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gojorgeous · 3 months

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

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autism-corner · 9 months

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i'm 2000 gems away from having 140 pulls saved up in nu carnival <3 the upcoming blade card better be good

#i think the next event will be blade's? probably #idk what'll go on with the morvay/aster cards rn but maybe theyre just a gacha? idk #anyway if they are an event itll just mean i get to grind more <3 #yayyyayy #sillyposting #140 pulls is actually insane. the guarantee SSR is at 150 and if theres a new event ill totally get enough gems/contracts to get there #it sucks tho ive only gotten 1 ssr out of the twenty pulls ive done so progressing is a lil hard :/#ill get through it =w=bb

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audrey-emeralds · 4 months

Text

Smashing Diamonds

Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader

Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex

A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!

Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.

However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.

" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.

~~~time skip~~~

After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.

" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.

" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.

" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.

" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "

You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.

Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.

You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.

" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.

" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "

You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.

" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.

" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.

" In that case, drink the fuck up! "

Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.

You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.

Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.

" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.

" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.

" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.

" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.

" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "

" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.

" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.

The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.

Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.

Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.

As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.

The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.

Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "

Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.

His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.

You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "

" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.

" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.

" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.

" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "

He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.

You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.

You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.

" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "

" Is this what you came for? "

You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "

Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.

As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.

" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.

" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.

" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.

" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.

" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.

" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.

He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.

You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.

" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.

" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.

" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.

Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.

" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.

" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "

" We will see if you will. "

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs imagine #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate euphoria #nate jacobs smut #jacob elordi #euphoria imagine #euphoria #audreyemeralds #audrey emeralds

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst

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eyelessfaces · 11 months

Text

apology

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel hasn’t come home in weeks. he tries to make it up to you.

warnings: smut, porn with minimal plot, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, a bit of angst, we're a bit mean to miguel because we're mad at him

tags: f!reader, sub!miguel (hell yeah), we make miguel suffer (sorry bb)

word count: 1k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

Miguel hadn’t come home in weeks, and it was with a guilty pinched smile and a bouquet of flowers that he reappeared at your doorstep.

When you first saw him, you wanted to take the flowers from his hands and slam the door right in front of his face, but you knew that he certainly had a good reason and excuse to have done what he had done.

He didn’t tell you much about it; you figured it was more about his spiderman activities than about his work, because he rarely told you about the spider stuff, wanting to keep you as far away from it as possible. You were sometimes mad that he wouldn’t tell you anything about it, but he kept on insisting that it was for your own good, that you shouldn’t get too close to it. He had already paid the price.

He apologized, apologized and apologized about not coming back for so long. You told him that it was fine, but he knew it wasn’t, he knew that you were hurt, he saw how you wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

He didn’t need this; he didn’t need you to hate him, it might be even worse and scarier than every universe collapsing.

He owed you an apology, a real one. He didn’t know if what he had in mind could work, but he could try.

Which was why he found himself with your thighs caging his face, your hand tightly gripping his hair. He sometimes got carried away, kissing and biting at your thighs while he repeated that he was sorry, over and over again, before you tugged his hair into diving back into eating you out like it was the last time he did it.

If you repressed your moans to let him know that you were still mad, he was doing all the contrary. He deeply enjoyed this, and he wanted you to know it. If he could spend the whole night between your thighs he would, and even though his crotch ached for some friction, all that mattered to him at that moment was you and your pleasure.

He mouthed at your pussy as if he was making out with it; licking long, slow and languid stripes through your folds, gathering your slick over his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

He pulled away to kiss the inside of your thighs, and just as you were about to scold him for it, he left a kiss at your clit before gently curling the tip of his tongue around it, making a strangled moan leave your mouth.

He smugly smiled at your reaction but quickly got back to work; he actually thought of something better, and pulled away, making you groan at the loss.

He laid down on the bed and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his chest, and you huffed out a laugh when he started to beg you to sit on his face, pulling your hips higher up his body so you could use him as you wished.

“Use me baby, I deserve to be used”

And it was a good idea, you had to admit. You could control it all now, grinding onto his face as if he was just an object. His nails were digging into the meat of your thighs, marking crescents into your skin as he hummed against you, his broad hands then shifting to your ass so he could knead the tender flesh, pushing you even lower onto his face. You even wondered how he could breathe, but your concern quickly flew out the window when his nose rubbed against your clit.

Your hand had unconsciously fisted onto his hair to hold him in place as you rocked yourself harder against his tongue, fucking it until you lost your mind; you pulled away and straddled his chest just as you were about to come, leaving him confused and wondering as he caught his breath, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices.

He licked his lips clean, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, so fucking pussy drunk. He sounded so gone when he asked you why you pulled away, but he looked even more gone as you got rid of his pants and explained that you wanted to come on his cock but that he wouldn’t get to come.

He let out a small whimper when you lowered yourself onto him, his hands finding and gripping your hips in a bruising hold.

You bounced on him at an unforgiving pace; his head was thrown back into the pillows as he let out small moans, trying to contain himself.

You leaned onto him and kissed his neck, softly biting at the warm skin before repositioning and putting your hands over his chest, his muscles softly twitching under your touch, your soft moans driving him even crazier.

You were close, you knew it, and so did he. He watched down to where you were connected and bit on his bottom lip as he guided your hips up and down, your rocking more languid as you tried to reach your peak. You felt him twitch inside of you and reminded him not to come, and he responded with a small wail as he nodded, still biting hard on his bottom lip, the poor skin almost bleeding.

You came with a silent cry, his hips snapping up into you and burying himself even deeper as he worked you through your orgasm, focusing on every muscle of his body to try not to come as you rode out your high on his lap, his own about to tip over the edge.

He whined as you climbed off of him, his orgasm stolen away from him, just as you had promised.

You watched with awe and a sly smirk as his body stiffened, his cock twitching desperately in front of you, his hands pawing at the bedsheets in frustration.

You smirked proudly, putting a hand at his cheek before kissing his lips then his forehead, his eyes shutting tight.

"Look at you baby" you cooed, looking down at your hand softly stroking his thigh to tease him even more, so damn close to where he needed you. “Maybe I'm a bit less mad at you.”

—

please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!

masterlist | taglist | ao3

spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove @ilovemiguelohara @pandq707 @gobblegluckgluckgod @weasleybuns @midgardian-witch @daemontqrg

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #oscar isaac

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taexoxosgf · 5 months

Text

FORMULA 1

PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader

WORDS 3.5k

SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.

WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol

NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb

You spot Mark across the airport track.

Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.

Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.

You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.

You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.

ML: Enjoying the view?

ML: I know I am

You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.

ML: Come here.

You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.

ML: Baby don’t be like that

You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving

You: Bye

Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.

People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.

There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.

There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.

Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.

You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.

Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.

The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.

You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.

“Leaving so soon?”

You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.

“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.

Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.

All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.

You know what this means.

I don’t even want to think about it.

There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.

You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.

Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.

“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.

‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.

You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.

His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.

As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.

The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.

Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.

You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.

“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.

You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.

“Since when do you like good girls?”

Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.

He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.

“I did until I met you.”

“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.

One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.

You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.

Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.

His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.

You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.

His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.

“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.

“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”

“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.

He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.

You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.

Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.

“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.

You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.

He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.

His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”

He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.

“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.

His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.

You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.

“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.

“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.

Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.

As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.

“Don’t tease, slut.”

“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.

As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.

“Spit on it,” he demands.

From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.

Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.

Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.

The feeling was literal heaven.

Oh, how you could never get used to this.

His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.

Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.

Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.

A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.

“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.

You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.

As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.

“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.

“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”

Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”

This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.

“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”

Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.

“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.

Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.

The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.

“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.

His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.

“Fuck.”

You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.

Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.

“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”

You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”

“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.

“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”

His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”

“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.

“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.

“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.

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hobies-gf · 7 months

Text

On top 💭🕷️ hobie x fem reader

★ CW riding, cream pie, dirty talk, overstimulation, degradation, a little bit of praise ★ NOTES havent written anything in so long but im back now bbs, i promise ill post more

Riding Hobie always had it perks. You felt him deeper this way and he just loved to ogle at your breasts as you used him for your own pleasure.

Most times Hobie strayed away from this position, always preferring to give you what you want hard and rough till the bed shakes — but when you do get him into this position he can’t complain.

“Fuck baby, y’so wet all over me, nasty pussy can’ stop purrin’.” He groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his adam’s apple in the process.

You were bouncing on Hobie’s cock feverishly, palms on his chest and thighs burning. The constant sounds of wet skin clapping and clicking noises from just how much slick and cum had leaked out of your cunt filled the room and it was just so nasty that it only got you craving for more.

Hobie’s eyes were rolled all the way back into his skull, his hands shaking as he gripped you forcefully, pulling your hips down every time you lifted up. It was lewd, animalistic, but after cumming so many times neither of you cared enough to feel an ounce of shame.

You weren’t in any better state. You were drunk over the feeling off Hobie’s tip abusing the deepest parts of your pussy, clenching down on him just to feel the veins on his cock a little better. Drool leaking out the sides of your mouth, mind so fucked with pleasure that you didn’t even have the thought of ever closing your mouth. Yet you continued to bounce and bounce on his cock.

“Needy puppy, fuckin’ ‘erself stupid on my cock.” Hobie grunted. He planted his feet firmly on the bed and began thrusting up into you, his large hands holding you down by the hips. You cried out helplessly, your back arching painfully as you experience this entirely new wave of pleasure. It was too much, but with the way your tongue fell out from your mouth, Hobie only pounded into you harder.

“Like a bitch in heat.” He laughed. He laughed and it was really so annoying that he had the capabilities to make fun of you when you were a complete, fucked out mess on top of him.

"Ho — Hobie! S'too much!" You squealed.

You wrap your hands around his wrists and try to push him away because every sticky thrust had your thoughts fucked out of your mind and you wanted so desperately to keep yourself together somehow. But Hobie was so mean. So mean with the way he just laughs again and shakes his head. He flips the position and suddenly your back is on the mattress, knees right by your head and the squelching of his fat cock bullying it's way into your cunt only gets louder.

"Oh fuckfuckfuck — daddy s'too much, please please!" You look down and watch as Hobie continues to fuck into your messy cunt at a bruising pace. Lines of slick constantly breaking from his hips and your cunt every time he pulled away. His cock covered in your cum and it was all just so dirty.

"C'mon baby, cream on daddy's cock — mmh yeah, y'can do it, give it t'me nice and good." Hobie groaned. He slowed down a little but only to fuck you with deeper strokes. The tip of his cock pushed out parts of your belly and you could faintly see the outline of his dick through your skin. "Make a mess on this cock puppy — be fuckin' nasty with it."

Your breath was caught in your throat, head tilted back, back arched and eyes squeezed shut. It was too much, too many times did you come tonight — but were you really in a place to complain when your hips started to fuck back against Hobie's thrusts? Your body was so dirty, eager for pleasure when mentally you were completely gone.

The knot in your tummy quickly made itself known and you began thrashing on the bed, pathetic whines pushed out of you every time Hobie pushed his hips flush against yours.

"'M gu— gunna cum." You sniffle, and Hobie thinks you look all too pretty, all too angelic for a situation like this. Pussy fucked, filled and stretched with all his cum. Legs lewdly spread, and your cute breasts bouncing every time he pushed in. His dirtiest angel.

"Cum baby, 'n scream m'name when ya do."

Your cunt tightened up around his cock and with a few more thrusts you creamed all over his dick like he asked, "Hobie!" Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you choke up a little, hands flying up to press your nails into Hobie's skin.

"Yeah, that's right pretty." Hobie moaned, his release soon following after as if your climax served as a catalyst for his own. You feel his warm cum fill you up for the last time for the evening, adding more to other loads Hobie had dumped into you. It was overflowing now and he clicked his tongue disapprovingly when he saw his cum spill out of your pussy as he pulled out.

“Bred y’so well hm?” Hobie brought up two fingers and fucked all the cum back in you slowly, your quiet cries do nothing to stop him.

You were tired out, exhausted and limp on the bed — only for your eyes to widen when you feel the fat tip of Hobie’s cock press up against your entrance, “One last round?”

#hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie brown smut #hobie x reader smut

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l0v3tast3 · 9 months

Note

Ok but older perv bf ghost would be such a menace like he would destroy your cunt in his back seat and then shake ur dads hand.( these older bf hcs make me go feral bb)

anon you are so right. he'll be so mean but like it's literally his fault that he's hot asf and u just wanna jump on him 24/7 ??? anyways tysm for the request and the kind words i hope you enjoy this anon !! ◝(⁰▿⁰)◜

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, f!reader, age gap (r is 20's, simon is late 30's), dumbification, conditioning (consensual), orgasm control, spanking, degradation/praise kink, overstimulation/edging, car s3x, size difference/kink, possessive!simon, c0ckwarming

✎ word count: 1.8k words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests are open!

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who wants to see you become absolutely brainless because of him. you're such a smart girl usually, among the top of your class at university, and simon just loves to see that whole façade crumble away. he knows a good fucking is just what you need to unwind from your classes, and he is more than happy to give it to you.

✧ ˖ ° seeing you go all dumb on his cock makes simon nearly giddy, the feeling of how you stop pushing at his abs and just take it once he bullies his dick in far enough to fill your brain with him instead of whatever you're studying, the sight of your eyes rolling back and your little hands weakly grabbing at whatever they can reach for some semblance of grounding yourself. you know just as well as simon does that it's useless; he makes damn sure that you have nowhere to run to when he has you in his hold.

✧ ˖ ° another thing he makes sure of is that you steadily become the one to come onto him first. simon wants you to be his own little nymphomaniac, addicted to his cock, to him. it all works towards melting your brain quicker and quicker each time. there's a certain dedication he puts towards it- even by the time he was done with you the first time you slept together, he's planning it out, figuring out which muscles to press into to get you to mewl for him, just the right angle to pound his dick into you, how much you can take before he starts seeing dew drops collecting on your waterline.

✧ ˖ ° even outside of the bedroom (or kitchen, or living room, wherever he has yet to christen next in his house) simon's working on it. he'll give you so many hoodies, jackets, boxers, anything that smells like him that you want, and then he tells you that if you're going to touch yourself without him that you better be at least wearing his clothes while you do it. eventually you'll get to the point where you can't get off without the thought of him, without his scent, then without him. there's no doubt either that whenever you do get worked up without him, simon makes sure that you always tell him. text him, call him, send a damn carrier pigeon with a letter, he doesn't care, but he's going to guide you through every orgasm you have.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who can get to be a mean dom. he loves punishing you for whatever reason he can find, especially when you touch yourself without telling him. simon is an experienced special ops soldier who's used his hands to torture people as much as he's used them to pleasure you, so he has not a single problem with knowing how to get the truth out of you. obviously he doesn't torture you, though (not in a way you don't like).

✧ ˖ ° if it's been a long stretch of time where you haven't been able to see each other, he'll pull you onto his lap and start out all soft. he'll run his hands all over you, move his lips against yours sweet and slow, whisper about how much he missed his pretty little girl. he'll listen with a happy hum while you tell him how much you missed him, how much you need him. he'll guide your hips lightly when you can't help but start grinding against his thigh, hands pushing up your skirt to see which pair of underwear he gets to rip apart this time. and then he'll ask you how much you missed him.

✧ ˖ ° from the start you know the question is a double-edged sword, but you always answer truthfully. it only took you one lesson to learn that simon knows when you lie to him (he didn't let you cum for three days while he kept you at his house the entire time). he always appreciates the truth, praises you for being such a good girl for him when you honestly tell him that you only touched yourself during the short phone calls he was allowed while he was away. there's a little part of him that's always a bit disappointed though, the same part that turns into glee when you sheepishly admit that you couldn't wait for him.

✧ ˖ ° simon's always a bit too quick at flipping you over so your laying face-down over his thighs. one hand wraps around your neck to pull you up and arch your back, the other flipping up your skirt and grabbing roughly at your squishy ass. "couldn't fuckin' wait f'me, huh? y'so desperate for cock that y'can't follow simple orders? thought i already taught ya how to be patient," he spits, letting you fall back against the couch so his hand can move down to plant itself across your back. that's when he starts, not even waiting for you to try to apologize meekly or defend yourself. slaps that leave bruises you'll be feeling for days rain down across your ass and simon makes you count each one. if you lose count or stop, he'll push open your legs to smack your cunt and start all over. simon doesn't let up until you're sniffling and whining and your underwear is soaked through (which of course he makes fun of you for).

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who really is an absolute menace with you. he dangles your pleasure over your head like something he grabbed for you out of the cabinets, keeping it just out of your reach until he decides to give it to you. there won't ever be a moment where simon doesn't have most, if not all of the control. there's something about having that command over you, feeling you hand over your trust, your body and mind to him that's addicting. so no matter how cruel he can get, he'll always make sure to ply you with as many orgasms as you can handle (and then some) to show his appreciation.

✧ ˖ ° his brutishness can come in the form of wanting to see just how messy he can get you to be. he'll bury his face and fingers into your cunt until there's a puddle forming underneath you, and when he's done there, simon stuffs you full with his cock and fucks you until your makeup is running with your tears and smearing across the sheets. he'll rip off the clothes that bar him from seeing your gorgeous body so that you have to wear something of his afterwards. and god help you if he wants to fuck in the backseat of his car before you both go someplace. which, (not) shockingly, is something he wants to do before he meets your parents.

✧ ˖ ° with the car parked not too far from your parents house in some spot where people won't think to give the tinted windows a second look, he'll have you working your way down on his cock. every time you whine about how you're going to be late, they're going to know, they won't be happy, simon gives your ass a sharp slap and snaps his hips up into yours. "would y'rather i fuck you in your room while they're home? don't think you can keep quiet enough for that," he mocks, his tone condescending despite the fact that he's already planning on doing just that at some point.

✧ ˖ ° once you're practically limp against his body, letting him use you like his personal toy, he'll finally cum. you finish with him, your third orgasm in less than an hour, as he buries his cock to the hilt inside you and grinds his hips up. once you're semi-conscious again he helps you put on your underwear and pants and gives you his hoodie. and after you've taken off your ruined makeup and redid at least some of it, you'll drive the remaining minute to your parents house, where simon seems to know just how to get them to love him. meanwhile, you'll be shifting in your seat next to him while his cum creates a stain on your jeans.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who wants you to be with him basically 24/7 while he's not away on missions. you're his girlfriend, of course he wants to spend as much time as he can with you! never mind the fact that this man has probably been boxing away his libido for years. so while he's at his home, so will you be.

✧ ˖ ° you'll find that any clothes you bring over to your stays with simon don't really go missing as much as he blatantly makes them unwearable for you as long as you insist on still bringing them. why would you have any need for those when he has plenty for you? it's not like you'll be wearing clothes much anyway while he has you. it's a lesson you learn quickly to pack light, otherwise you'll be going home with scraps of fabric. simon doesn't not like your clothes (he thinks your style is adorable on you), but the way you smell like him with his hoodies and shirts, the way they're basically dresses on you serving to remind how much bigger he is than you, it drives him even crazier.

✧ ˖ ° because of how touch-starved (and horny) he is, simon prefers to always physically have you close to him. which means lots of cockwarming; he won't lie about how much he loves watching you try your very best not to squirm on his lap, not to lose yourself to how full you always feel with him inside you. whether you're watching a movie or he's working in his office or even just trying to sit down for a meal, simon will preemptively have you sinking down on his cock, chastising you about how eager you always are for him to just fuck you. it's nearly torture for him just the same as you, but the difference is that he has a lot more self-control than you do- just enough to give your thigh a stinging pinch every time you move a muscle.

✧ ˖ ° no matter how long he keeps you there, it'll always turn into simon pushing you against the nearest table or wall and fucking away the last few straggling thoughts in your head. he always waits until your breathing gets ragged and your nails are digging in hard. until you're panting against his neck from the effort it takes to not bounce yourself on his dick. until you're begging. "what? turned y'into that much of a whore that y'can't go five minutes without my cock? fine." he'll say it as if he's doing you a favor, as if he's going out of his way to satisfy the nymphomaniac that he himself has proudly created.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #reader insert #— ask!#— lilly writes! ♡

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bucknastysbabe · 4 months

Note

Babes, I was thinking, dom! Bucky and reader where his dumb ass doesn’t give her aftercare and then she’s upset. Later, his ass brings it around and makes her feel better. I go feral for aftercare in fics because I’m secretly a little bitch and need reassurance. The raunchier the smut the better. I’m a whore. Love you, babes 😚

HI BUCKYBUDDY MWAH MWAH LUV U💋💋Less get intewww it! I haven’t written a dom buck in ages and then angst and fluffy fluff after??? *chefs kiss* As always thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy this, imma put my whole freak nasty abilities into the raunchy, then my soft baby into the fluff. I too need some reassurance bc I’m actually a huge baby🤣

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dom!Bucky barnes, Dom/sub, Bucky is an idiot, pnv!sex, bad bdsm etiquette, sub drop, hurt/comfort, big dick bb, fluff n smut n angst, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving), safe words, anxiety/negative self talk/depression

Your lover was in a mood, not necessarily angry but aggravated. He initiated the little playtime scene, coming home and growling, “Can’t catch a fucking break. Need my little girl to help me let off some steam.” His broody eyes roved over your reclined form, clad in skimpy shorts and a little tank top.

You couldn’t deny your sexy, fucking gorgeous man. A rough fuck would be good for him, and nothing was better than getting your pussy goddamn murdered by his cock. You instantly acquiesced, reminding baby of your safe words.

No time was wasted, Buck hauled you to bedroom, landed a sharp smack on your ass along the way. Clothes shredded, some haphazardly thrown, boots flung so hard the lamp rattled as he kneeled on the bed. You stared with wide eyes, unsure of what next considering how fast the situation was moving along.

“Get it wet baby, you know what to do, staring at me like some fuckin’ virgin,” the brunette snarked.

Crawling forward— you gripped his girth, lapping and enveloping the tip. Buck’s vibranium hand wound itself in your ponytail, yanking with a snarl, “Deeper baby, c’mon now.” He was lucky you had a lack of a gag reflex, tucking your lips and swallowing him down. He groaned in ecstasy, head falling back as he cursed, “Good little slutty girl, that’s it.”

You breathed through your nose as he murmured, “Gonna fuck that tight throat of yours.” Your lids fluttered at the feeling, lips stretched tight around his thick cock, throat full, the salty taste of pre-cum wetting your tongue.

His heavy balls slapped your chin as you gripped strong thighs, your lover grunting and keeping your head still with that metal hand, fucking ruthlessly. Tears sprung to your eyes, pussy throbbing and leaking. Bucky groaned again, pulling you off his dick, wet and messy.

All you could do was gasp and whimper, drool falling from your swollen lips. He smiled darkly, caressing your reddened face with big hands. Bucky cooed, “You’re so damn pretty.” He seized your lips, wet smacks filling the quiet room. You instinctively moved to your back, legs spread for him.

Buck tutted between kisses, “Nuh-uh, on your belly.” You whimpered sadly as he gave one more kiss, those huge hands of his flipping your frame over, pulling your hips up in a quick jerk. He palmed a breast roughly, pulling at your stiff bud, so sensitive you couldn’t help but mewl.

Another hand thumbed your swollen cunt, laughing, “So wet for me. Sweet pretty slut, get your mouth around some cock and you’re wetting the sheets.” He thumbed your clit with a slick thumb, grinning sharply at the whine of his name. You warbled, “C’mon baby, fuck me, I helped you out.”

A yank of your ponytail brought his lips close to you, nipping at your earlobe, muscled body pressed to you. Bucky rumbled, “Can you be patient sweetie? I asked if you’d help me let off some steam and here you are making demands like an entitled bitch.”

He pinched your clit, forcing a yowl out your lips. Your boyfriend nestled his cock against your swollen folds, rutting playfully slow. Bucky asked, false sweetness lacing his tone, “You gonna’ shut your mouth and let me do my thing?”

Yank. Nip. Slap.

“Y-yessir, Bucky, I’ll be good now, m’sorry.”

“Good girl.”

He shoved his cock in with no preamble, filling your pussy to the brim with a filthy squelch. Bucky’s hands faltered at your hips, breath stuttered and harsh, he grunted, “Fucking hell, god your pussy— hah, fucking tight.” He took a moment to steady his knees, effectively caging your own in.

“Arch,” he commanded. You did so, pressing your lower body to the bed, whining, “S’big.” He patted your ass and claimed cockily, “I know, slutty hole like yours can take it.” More tears leaked, he was on one today. You couldn’t deny the sweet pleasure and the mean words, made you throb that much harder.

His hands possessively splayed up your back, clasping them upon your shaking shoulder. The force of his thrust shoved you forward into the mattress with a muffled cry. Bucky’s hips clapped against your ass, brutally fucking you open. All you could do was drool and keen his name and other nonsense.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, pussy weeping and convulsing around Bucky’s huge cock. It dragged against your ridged insides, nudged your sweet spot, battered your cervix. Nothing was spared when your lover filled you up, feeling like he was in your belly. The soldier was grunting and moaning deeply, smacking a vibranium hand across your ass. He sped up his movements, beginning to pant. Bucky asked, “Good little slut, always such a good hole for me.”

You babbled, “Yes, yes, always, just for you!”

He rewarded you with a hand to your engorged clit, working it the way that made your legs shake— like they weren’t already jello. Bucky hauled you up with his free hand, using his strength to keep your overstimulated body aloft.

“Y’gonna cream on my big cock doll? I can feel ya’ squeezing me. Pussy’s jus’ begging for me to fill it up. Fucking hungry for it, you’re such a nympho for me.”

You were crying and shaking, nerves alight, pussy unbearably sensitive. You sobbed his name over and over, skin too hot and your clit shooting fire up into your belly. Buck cried out your name when you stiffened head to toe, core clamping down on him, gushing slick all over his still pumping dick.

You mewled and whimpered, falling limp, weak hands still gripping the sheets. Bucky managed longer, overstimulating your abused pussy. He didn’t last as far as you feared, leaning over your frame to mouth at the nape of your neck as he pumped you full of cum. So much cum it flooded your channel, spilling out and onto the bed.

Bucky had intense orgasms courtesy of the serum. He’d inhale sharply, shuddering as his overfull balls emptied for what felt like years. He leaned back up and pulled out with a soft noise, watching your ruined cunt with a smirk.

He got up to get a towel to wipe his dick off, coming back to get you clean. Bucky was pulling on his jeans now. You turned to ask, voice still slurred from your fuzzy brain, “Where’ya going Buck?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and replied, “Gotta meet up with Sam, won’t be longer than an hour. I’ll be back, why don’t you grab a hot bath, I’ll bring back something to eat for you?”

A dreadful feeling consumed you. Bucky was busy, you didn’t need to whine for him to stay around. You rasped, “Can you get me a water bottle?” He nodded and padded off, returning with the cool water, handing it over with a kiss to your forehead. You struggled with words, scared to start bawling. Bucky always took care of you after an intense session. The mean ones.

He laced up his boots and slung on a jacket, blue eyes turning back as he stated, “Won’t be long I promise, ‘kay babydoll? Text me if you need anything.” You nodded while sipping the water, watching his familiar walk leave the room.

You flopped back onto the rumpled bed, body and cunt sore from the rough play. Emotions began to well up out of nowhere— embarrassment, loneliness, sadness. What if Bucky really meant all that he said?

Just a hole for him to fuck. Easy slut for easy access. You stifled a sob and failed. Everything felt like shit. You shivered from the intense anxiety, too struck to do anything but get under the mussed covers, mind whirling to all the worst places.

God. What if he told Sam about how wanton and loud you were, baring your neck at the slightest snap of Bucky’s fingers. You sobbed some more, grabbing a pillow to hold. It smelled like him, comforting, then sickening.

Managing to crawl out of bed you walked on jelly legs to the large bathtub, sprinkling the lavender epsom salt. Something to abate the cold. You ended up sobbing more and shaking in the tub. The need to call Bucky was heightening, but your brain whispered, “He’s busy, you’d be bothering him, just fuck off.”

Eventually the water got cold and you stepped out, body less achy. Drying off and slipping on this fleece hoodie thing your friend gifted you felt somewhat comforting. You didn’t want to get back in the ruined bed.

Instead the couch and a fluffy blanket would do. The water bottle and phone instinctively came with you. You blankly stared out the window, petting Alpine, still fucking shedding tears. The fluffy white cat seemed to sense your bad mood, curling up on your belly, purring.

Your phone sat on the table, annoyingly catching your interest. With an irritated huff you finally grabbed it. There was missed calls from Bucky, a couple of texts from him too. Even Sam had sent something.

Sliding open the phone you read the texts.

“At the Thai place, the usual?”

“You’re probably sleeping but I got Pad See Ew anyways.”

“You okay doll?”

“Hello?”

Then there was three missed calls. You made to dial back, spirits lifted a bit. The sound of the door busting open startled you. Alpine jumped, skittering off. A bewildered Bucky was making a beeline toward you, thick brows pulled together. The takeout bag was left on the ground. He grabbed you up and placed you onto his lap, placing fervent smooches all over your face.

The show of affection made you bawl again. Bucky’s warm flesh hand rubbed circles on your back. He murmured gently, “Babydoll, m’so sorry, I should’ve just cancelled the plans. Sam told me to go home and pull my head out my ass when I wouldn’t stop checking my phone.”

He looked so worried, babbling apologies, pulling you even closer into his frame. You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened, usually you stick around, then I got all s-sad.” Swallowing heavily you continued, “M’not just some whore to you am I? Everything’s s-so-so mixed uh-up. In my head.”

Bucky sighed, “Oh my love, no, no, you’re everything to me. I didnt communicate, forgot about aftercare— sweetheart I can’t live without you. Breaking my heart baby. Can’t believe I just left my doll all alone like that.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking your face into his scruffy neck, letting out the rest of your emotions. Bucky cooed and coddled you, planting kisses on the crown of your head. He murmured, “Let it out, you still got some dinner and cuddles.”

Your breathing evened out enough to reply with a teary smile, “Okay, yeah, I am hungry.” Bucky somehow carried you around like a koala while he fed you the noodles, then ice cream, and more water. You felt better by the second, growing sleepy in his big arms.

“I love you baby doll, don’t ever think I don’t,” he swore.

“I love you too. So much. But we need to sleep in the guest room.”

The pair of you chuckled, sharing sweet kisses as the big softie carried you to the direction of the other bed. He gently laid you down, more lovey nonsense and kisses adorning the movement. Bucky climbed under the covers, pulling your body close to his. You fell asleep feeling warm and loved.

He might be a bit of a dumbass, but god if he didn’t make up for it.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #dom bucky barnes #read the tags :)#answered ask

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leclercstarrs · 4 months

Text

best friends, cassie howard and maddy perez.

summary: in which things heat up when cassie and maddy approach you at a party.

warnings: switch!reader, threesome, face riding, oral!

notes: enjoy this draft while i work on new things! promise to post something good in a bit! p.s, this is not proof read, sorry babes!

Cassie Howard and Maddy Perez have been close for a long time now. They are used to sharing things, like lots of friends do. From clothes to beds when Maddy sleeps over at Cassie’s place to escape the yelling in her house, and now, you.

When the two girls heard from BB that you were throwing a party, they immediately told you that they’d be attending, and then went home to pick what to wear, even if the party wasn’t for another week.

Now, it’s the night of the party and they enter your house, getting stared at by guys from school as they move through the crowd of drunk teenagers. It’s impossible not to notice the blonde and brunette duo, their matching outfits showing off their bodies. Cassie is, of course, wearing the pink set, while Maddy has on the same set in black.

“Do you see her?” Cassie attempts to ask her friend, her voice going unheard considering the loud music. She stops walking in the middle of the living room, Maddy following her lead.

“Hey, have you seen the host?” Maddy asks a random boy beside her.

“(Y/N)?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Cassie nods. The boy points towards the kitchen and Cassie quickly grabs her friend’s hand, leading her towards the kitchen. “There.” The blonde grins.

“Damn.” Maddy mumbles, watching as you’re lying down on the kitchen island as Jules does body shots on your stomach, a group of people cheering her on. “I’d kill to be Jules right now.” Maddy jokes, earning a laugh from her friend.

“Jules, come on, you’ve had enough.” You prop yourself up and off the counter, taking the bottle of liquor out of her hand before she pours another drink. Jules has been doing this for a while now, to the point that her best friend, Rue, gave up and walked away. “Jules, go find Rue and get a glass of water.” You sigh as the girl tries to take the bottle back.

“God, the two of you are so boring.” She huffs, however, still following your advice and walking out of the kitchen, the crowd slowly exiting as well.

Getting off the counter and tugging at your dress, you pull the tight fabric down your legs a little. You then place the bottle on the counter after taking a quick swig.

“Hey.” Maddy and Cassie smile in unison when they approach you.

You try to hold yourself back from gasping at the girls, looking them up and down. “I see the two of you went for the matching look.” You laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Maddy rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue.

“Oh, it definitely was. You both look hot.” You grab two red solo cups from the counter, then taking the same bottle from earlier and pouring the two girls drinks.

“Thank you.” They take the cups and are quick to down them.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” Cassie suggests, turning to look at Maddy, then back at you.

You bite your lip as the two girls stare at you in anticipation, copying your move from earlier and checking you out, admiring how your dress fits on you. “Let’s go, this party could use some fun.” You cave.

“For sure.” Maddy and Cassie are quick to lead you upstairs and towards your bedroom.

“Cute room.” Cassie sits down on the bed next to you and Maddy, looking around the room.

You start feeling increasingly anxious, unsure of what to do and say. However, you push through it and try to remain calm. “Thanks.” You smile.

“(Y/N), don’t be shy. Take off my shirt.” Cassie says, her soft voice encouraging you to comply. Your lips part as you carefully remove the thin pink fabric off of her body, revealing her breasts.

“You’re so beautiful.” You hum, leaning towards her and pressing gentle kisses on her neck, before stopping when Maddy interrupts.

“Awh, what about me?” The girl on the other side of your bed whines, her lips forming into a fake pout. Unlike Cassie, Maddy proves to be more dominant with her actions, grabbing your hands and guiding you to pull off her black top. She tosses her shirt on the floor, Cassie then doing the same. “Here.” Maddy quietly says, once again taking your hands and placing them on her breasts. Her nipples are hard, Maddy’s entire body begging for you to touch her. You carefully massage them, eager but quiet moans escaping from the girl.

Cassie then moves closer to you from behind, stopping you from continuing on with Maddy as the two girls work on taking your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your small thong.

Maddy gently moves you hair out of your face, “Lie down, baby.” She instructs you.

You do as she says, lying back on the bed, unsure of what the girls have planned. Cassie climbs towards you, leaning down and kissing you, before positioning yourself so her cunt is hovering about your mouth. Now, you understand what she wants. “Say please.” You change your tone, feeling more confident in yourself.

The blonde whines, “Please.”

“Good girl.” Maddy chimes in. She’s now starting to work on pleasuring you, kissing up your thighs, until she reaches your cunt. You can feel her breath, it’s as if she’s waiting for you to make the first move, so you do.

Cassie fully places her cunt on your mouth as you slowly lick one stripe up her folds. “Fuckkkk…” She moans, desperate for more and starting to grind against your tongue.

“Keep going.” Maddy tells you as she starts to do the same to you, instead thrusting her tongue into you, earning muffled moans from you as you move your tongue around Cassie’s folds, coaxing out juices as you make your way to her clit. More moans abrupt from you and Cassie. Maddy is teasing you, her tongue flicking slowly on your own clit, your legs slightly shaky. Your hands make their way up Cassie’s waist, sitting there for a moment and guiding her hips with the movement of your tongue on the swollen nub. Cassie has different plans, however, her mouth dropping in pleasure as she drags her hands to her tits, getting you to massage at her nipples, adding to the wave of pleasure going through her.

“Shit, (Y/N).” Cassie gasps, her eyes rolling back.

“Doing so good for Cass, hm?” Maddy muffles as she eats your pussy.

Like the two of you are in sync, you and Maddy thrust your tongues deeper, Cassie going silent, unable to even make a sound as she desperately cums on your face. Moments later, you do the same as Cassie, Maddy sending you over the edge. Your juices flow out of your cunt, Maddy pulling away and licking her lips. “You taste so good.” She smirks.

Cassie gets off of you, her chest rapidly moving up and down as she relaxes after her orgasm. “You’re so fucking good at that.” She praises you.

Meanwhile, Maddy slides your panties back onto you, then moving towards your face. “Mm, Let me clean you up.” She gently grabs your face with her hands and kisses you, the two of you exchanging Cassie’s juices. Next to the two of you on the bed, Cassie grins.

“We should seriously do this again.” Cassie catches your attention and you and Maddy stop kissing.

“Obviously.” Maddy laughs.

#this is really long sorry yall🤓#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #euphoria x reader #euphoria x y/n #euphoria x you #euphoria imagine #euphoria fanfic #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x y/n #cassie howard x you #cassie howard smut #cassie howard x y/n #cassie howard x reader #euphoria smut

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

slow down, i'm not going anywhere

g. satoru + fem reader

note : i cooked up something for my man. my yummy lovely bb boy 🥰 just had brainrot for car sex with him. if u want more car sex w gojo then here's this post i made a while back !! anyways i am working on a cult leader suguru fic and it's proving so difficult to write i almost wanna trash it lol✌️

summary — some yummy car sex ft. your overstimmed bf and his pretty muscles

warnings — 🔞 minors don't read/interact, smut / 18+ content, not proofread, car sex, pwp, overstim., nicknames (kitten, baby, slut), creampie + unprotected sex + c*m/creampie visuals, kinda sub gojo but also dom??, delicious dirty talk 🙏

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

... just thinking about gojo's muscles flexing and twitching when he's overstimmed.

his hair is ruffled at the back as it presses into the headrest. the car light would illuminate his features better if it weren't for the steamy haze of sex in the air.

you've got a good view of those tensing abs since his shirt is sloppily split open to reveal them to you. the base of his shirt is getting soaked in your juices. and his breathing is ragged as you ride out another orgasm on his lap. your hand rests on his abdomen, fingers feeling the dips of his muscles as they tense up while. he can feel his thighs shudder under you, dick numb with pleasure to the point where he can't focus on anything else but that feeling you're giving him.

gojo loves it when you admire his body, it makes him feel loved. makes him feel special. fuels his ego till it pops but he's too blissed out and overstimmed to be cocky now.

your eyes and hands roam his pecks. his abs. the contours of his body. the dips n curves. you feel his muscular thighs supporting your heavy bounces.

his physique looks so pretty when it's tensing up, and his face is even prettier — his forehead is beading with sweat, his eyes are lidded so much that you're sure he can't see through them right now, his cheeks are damp and his lips are puffy and red from the erotic, hyper make out session that preceded this even more erotic, hyper lap riding session.

"you always make such a mess of me, baby..." he says in a low, strained voice.

you can hear the effect of so many orgasms in his words, he sounds like he's just exhausted himself at the gym.

"c-can't think straight with those hips on top of mine, haha." he tries to laugh, then hisses when you bounce too fast up and down. he grabs for your curves, moaning, restraining your movements with that exciting strength.

"ahhhh tha-that feels too good, kitten, slow down a bit." he begs lightly.

his cock is so sensitive, and you've got it tightly wrapped up in your gummy walls; he can feel you pulse through every orgasm. feel you shudder each time his cock beats into a sweet spot. it drives him nuts, that milking sensation of your contracting walls, it feels like you're pulling on his soul.

when you whimper weakly against his sweaty forehead, mouth pressing to his skin, "but it feels good..." and roll your hips at a faster pace contrary to his needs, he lets out the most erotic, high-pitched noise you've ever heard a man make.

"sh—iiiit baby! hah... hah... slow down, i'm not going anywhere. w-we've got time, don't needa rush. 'promise i'm not goin' anywhere, not when your pussy feels this good." he struggles to look at you through his lidded eyes. his lashes look so pretty up close, especially in this dim light; there's nothing but abyssal black night outside the car. the radio is turned down low, the squelching sex sounds easily drown out any noise coming through the speakers.

your boyfriend looks so exhausted from cumming inside you three times by now. so you give into his wishes, though it felt good to have his cock beating that deep sweet spot inside of you. slow, swirling rolls of your hips, grinding grinding grinding until he groans and tilts his head off to the side in pure pleasure. the two of you relish that sloppy sound of frothed up cum. it cakes at his base. it feels so delicious that he wishes he could pull his phone out to snap a pic to save into his private little folder titled my baby's designer pussy :)💗

"oh my god... that's it... fuck, feel me there? yeah? feel all that cum, too baby? so fucking nasty... " he groans.

and he moans dramatically. because gojo is such a performer; a real dramatic sex star.

after those hard hits and enduring his sensitivity, slow sensual strokes are just what he needs to tip over. his cock feels raw, pure pleasure pulsing through it like electricity. and you feel raw, too. it almost hurts to squeeze your gummy walls around him. he always stretches you so good, regardless of how tight you are on that day.

"baby... cum with me." he commands, a glimpse of dominance showing in his demeanor after he was acting so docile for so long under your hips.

and getting filled by gojo? it's more delicious than anything.

thick, creamy. his cum smells pungent, it squirts out into your pussy and just spills right out because he fucked your hole too loose, and runs down his cock right along that thumping vein. a sweet fresh load adding to the rest of those nasty, gooey white releases.

he chuckles after cumming, and pants and heaves right against your ear. your bodies are just melted together, sticky and sweaty. he likes feeling as if he's glued to your body.

he notices you digging your nails into his biceps for stability, feeling a rush at the sensation. "y-you're so pretty when you cum and shake for me..." he murmurs against your cheek, nose grazing your skin. he means that. you really are so pretty. and not like the textbook definition; but like an otherworldly goddess.

and you act as kind as one, treating him not as if he's a god but like he's just your precious baby boy. he loves that. he needs it. that comforting voice calms him down after cumming so hard in your pussy, and that soothing hand on his cheek gives him shivers of happiness.

"fuck... 'needa... pull it out... hnnn..." it's always funny when he pulls out with a — pop — and you see him wince at the slight overstim. his cockhead always gets a fright when squeezing out of that tight entrance.

"how the hell am i gonna drive home with all this cum over my pants haha... you made a fucking mess on my dick, baby. look at all that cream..." he laughs, looking down between the two of you. both of your clothes are soaked right through. the windows are steamed up.

"sorry..." you mumble with a small smile, feeling a bit drunk off the pleasure that the two of you shared these past two hours in his car.

your eyes glaze over his chest; it's pretty when it's heaving heavy like that. with sweat running down the middle dip of his abs. and the sheen of your juice smeared on his v-line. snowy white pubes creeping up cutely to make a happy trail.

"you're so pretty, satoru." you murmur admiringly, voice shaky after such a long session in his car.

his heart flutters. but his response is cheeky, masking how shy he truly felt at such a tender compliment. "oh yeah? 'well if you think i'm pretty you should see my girlfriend. she's hot as hell."

you roll your eyes and get off his lap. he frowns then laughs, "aw no, i thought you were gonna straddle me while i drive home..." and he'd started the engine, you felt the rumble in your thighs. it's funny, a hunk of muscle like him sitting in a muscle car.

"i'm pretty sure that's a safety hazard..." you chuckle lowly.

he rolls his eyes and nods. "yeah yeah. mmm baby wait. come here, let me kiss you — thanks for riding me so good. you fuck me up like no one else, you know. 'n in my car too... heh... scandalous lil' slut."

he pecks your lips, the savory taste and lip-locking sound pleases his senses.

and the poor man. he has to drive home with cum-soaked pants. but it's worth it. the next time he sits in his car to go somewhere, he smiles when he finds your lacy panties still tangled around the gear shift. seeing them makes his mind race with the memory of this night and how hard you rolled those hips against him. it gets him bricked up, yes, and he maybe has to jerk himself off in his car before actually driving otherwise he'll be heading down the highway with a boner sticking up in his face.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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gojorgeous · 4 months

Text

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.”

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong.

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.”

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.”

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.”

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–”

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.”

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–”

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry.

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm?

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer.

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach.

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope.

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road.

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.”

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.”

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.”

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare.

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to.

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto.

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck.

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed.

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home.

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.”

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.”

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.”

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–”

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.”

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours.

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly.

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs.

“Feel anything?” he asks.

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter.

“Sleep, baby.”

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot.

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs.

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.”

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint.

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-”

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.”

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.”

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place.

“No, baby.”

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully.

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin.

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.”

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight.

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants.

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead.

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit.

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives.

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him.

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need.

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled.

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away.

“Gonna knot you good, princess.”

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes.

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk.

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss.

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything.

“Sugu–”

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling.

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens.

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness.

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that.

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…”

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much.

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine.

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.”

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams.

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.”

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it.

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…”

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl.

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised.

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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