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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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Comte’s 4th Birthday Story Event: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

REEEEEEEE Ik it was a long time ago but life has been a [redacted], so I figured better late than never HAHA

So without further ado, anybody who’s curious feel free to click for more--I’ll put it under a cut for spoilers as per usual~

So in this story it’s the usual, a few days before his birthday, and they’re discussing a bump in the road. Essentially, it appears a friend of Comte’s is going to be celebrating a wedding, and as such he’s going into the suburbs/affluent part of the region to be able to attend. It’s only a few hours away from the mansion, but he will be gone for a few days with the arrangements made for his stay.

While this wouldn’t typically be an issue, MC has some things to take care of and opts out of attending with him (preparing for his bday probably LMAO) and Comte is immediately big sad. My favorite dramatic fool is already pouting, though he fully accepts and respects her decision. Besides which, he fully intends to be back in time to celebrate his birthday as well. He notes that he’s always admired how driven and independent she is, and has no intention of getting in the way of that. He’s just going to miss her, is all.

He says as much, figuring there’s no point in hiding it: “I really wanted to bring you with me to attend…but I suppose it simply can’t be helped” … “That’s not it…I guess I’m just wondering if you’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss you while I’m away.”

And MC’s just like “Aw, it’s okay it’ll only be a few days.” While Comte’s response is a very mature, high-pitched whining sound at a frequency only King (Theo’s dog) and Theo himself can hear. When MC tries to reassure him once more, his Hamlet impression continues: “Even the prospect of a few days away from you feels unbearable.”

Naturally, as any man do that loves his wife, he draws her close and proceeds to bang the living daylights out of her. I would offer details, but I have no deets to give beyond: [Well MC, it appears I won’t be letting you get much sleep tonight.]

Brief intermission for the vague sounds of fangirl cardiac arrest.

The scene opens again to him doing his walk of shame (the slut) down the walkway and into the carriage that will take him to his friend’s house. His thoughts carry the regret of burdening her with his desire, though MC is pretty much on cloud nine and unable to stop thinking about the heady night they shared in a good way. Bruh and the sly look when he figures out why she looks like that--I’m boutta call the police, he is going to make women and men alike act up.

MC scrambles to cool his already returning desire by insisting he will be late if he indulges any further, and he laughs and agrees easily–albeit with the slightest hint of reluctance. My favorite part in this exchange is that he kisses her forehead, adding that it’s because she’s the most adorable person in the world to him (a moment of silence for our uwus).

Fast forward to Comte trying to get home after the festivities are over. Problem is, it’s been raining like a mOTHERBLEEPER, and as such carriages have no safe way to traverse the roads at the moment. He waited out the first day as patiently as possible, but after the second–and no sign of stopping–his Leeroy Jenkins instincts kick in. He notes to the coachman that he’s aware he’s asking a lot, but they fully intend to take the long way which invites the least risk–and the rain is ebbing, even if the progress is slow.

It’s interesting because there’s another echo of his main story in this moment. He essentially showcases a desperation to return before the day ends, though without context it’ll probably seem a little strange, so I’ll do my best to explain. Basically, in his main story, MC notes that she doesn’t really care how different they are. Different time, different species, different experiences, so on and so forth. She hammers home that what matters is that the present is something that they actively share. It’s theirs. And no amount of divisions he desperately tries to draw will change that fundamental reality.

And it’s a little moving to see how deeply he takes it to heart? I think it’s one of those wonderful phenomena, personally–the way a person can influence how you think and act with their sentiments. Sometimes someone says precisely what it is we need to hear, and it changes us–while it can be for the worse, it can also be for the better. He notes that he spent so many birthdays; among the people serving his house when he was little, raising hell with his friends in his younger days, so on and so forth. Not unlike Leonardo, he says that after so many “special” days the faces become a blur, the festivities lose their luster. It’s just another day, at this point.

Note, one interesting thing here that stands out to me is that I feel like this is a reflection of both of their larger struggles. Where Comte can’t stand the relentless flow of time rendering him the only constant (and something of a ghost, never fully present), Leonardo can’t bear birthdays because it means remembering people who still mean the world to him, but are long gone. People he can never see again, never laugh with again, never share his life with again. And I think that’s a very profound pain, an anguish that just keeps on settling its weight. (Oh, Sisyphus…)

Comte’s is similar, but different. He actively works to keep his distance-- unlike Leonardo, he approaches immortality in the pragmatic way. He knows getting close will hurt, so he opts out of that–keeps a step behind, an easy smile on his face. Betrays only fragments to anyone, always has his guard up. But the downside of being so guarded means you eventually feel hollowed out and alone; nobody truly knows or understands you. There is a distinct loneliness in that approach, where memories only become reminders of how nothing ever improves and how bereft you are of warmth.

Leonardo, at least, gets to have the joy of being known from time to time. But loss and estrangement from those people means double the pain in the long run, because he loved them fully. Comte chooses to live in the cold to protect himself, but ends up in a kind of catch-22; the cost of forgoing loss means a constant deadening of his own feelings. It means living in a kind of fog, where there is a distinct discomfort in the silent obscurity of your own heart.

There’s something I’ve come to believe in my short course of living, so I guess I still need time to determine how true it is. But…I feel like, when people live this way, where who they are is a lie or it’s at the very least carefully concealed, we in part start to become that lie. I think it’s fascinating because Comte seems to have so much personality to him. He’s dramatic, he’s thoughtful, he has a sense of mischief about him, he has strong ideals, and he has an even more ironclad moral grounding. And yet, when he talks about himself, he always uses descriptions that hinge on emptiness. Like he’s worth so little, worth nothing. And that’s what I mean–he’s been trying so hard to glide on the surface that he has come to believe he really is equivalent to something that ephemeral. Like there’s nothing more inside him, or if there is, that it will never be worthy of much. I think it really speaks to the ways behavior impacts the psyche, even though the opposite tends to be considered the only possible cause and effect relationship.

He’s so determined to live for and in the future while he’s in the present, that he forgets to enjoy himself and really live. And while that approach is certainly understandable, I do think he loses parts of himself along the way. Only to be rediscovered and placed back into his hands by MC: [Today–this moment–our now, I don’t want to miss it for anything.] And that's not even touching on how quick she is to make them a we; she's not letting him keep that distance. It’s not “you have the ability to share this day with me” it’s “we’re here and in this together.”

I feel like what I love about this is that it’s not only about how sweet he is on MC, but also about how much he’s truly living again for the first time. His defenses are slowly inching their way down, he’s letting himself hope and want things and look forward to things again. The thing about being a responsible person is that–while responsibility is all well and good–sometimes you become so mired in doing the right thing and planning the most optimal outcomes that you just aren’t thinking of yourself anymore. That is, if you ever were to begin with. He went from the careful cultivation of a life as an aristocrat, to a life that spoke of more freedom and fun beyond those iron wrought gates, before he returned to the structure of what he knew. Freedom speaks to him I’m sure–we all need it in some measure to survive. But I do think a good portion of that was unfulfilling for him after a point. It was only feeding the void that was beginning to form inside him. He was instinctively retreating into himself to avoid pain, and in doing that the only result was feeling like a coward and a fake. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t able to be himself, and nothing was fulfilling–every single day just another forward march.

I think it comes as no surprise he took up Vlad’s initial invitation so willingly.

But then I digress, back to the story. There’s another timeskip and it finds him racing down the hall of the mansion. He’s hoping to make it in time but knows he’s racing against the clock, and fully expects MC to be asleep by this point in the night. Midway along his path he thinks he spots MC and falters in his step, blinking. He decides to hang back, watching the figure enter his room with a great deal of curiosity and resists every urge to burst in after her. He hears MC speak into his pillow, her voice muffled but clearly despondent: “I miss you, Comte. I hope you get back home soon…”

Comte pretty much dies right there. I literally have no better explanation for it. He freezes, his heart sputters and stops. He’s just completely taken aback.

And then, naturally, he goes about feral with desire as is his modus operandi: “Oho, I heard something incredibly cute just now. Were you also having a hard time spending so long apart?”

MC: “…!”

[Startled, she turns around and her eyes widen and widen.]

MC: “Comte, how...”

Comte: “Took a detour in areas with less rain.”

MC: “?? Wouldn’t that still be hard in weather like this?”

Comte: “I told the coachman I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it was only for a second, I wanted to spend today with you…”

[Everything I was thinking while in the carriage spills out of me long before I can help it. I am reminded again of just how utterly irreplaceable an existence MC is in my life.]

Comte: “Even so, it seems interesting that I would find you in my bed”

MC: “...! A--Ah, I’m so sorry for entering without permission!”

[I quickly grab hold of her before she can scramble out of my bed, coaxing her to sink back into the sheets.]

In between a lot of intense making out and [redacted], the larger overtone is that her reciprocated ardor just destroys him inside:

MC: “It was...because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about wanting to see you…”

Comte: “!”

[You know just how to drive me mad with desire.]

Comte: “I’m the same...the first thing I did was look for you. Even though it was only a few days, your voice, your body, everything...I missed you”

[Because today, our ‘now’--I never want to lose a single moment with you as long as you’re by my side...]

Comte: “I’m so happy to be able to be with you, right here and right now.”

It gets funny too because Comte is trying to take it slow, but when she tells him “Happy birthday” and goes on to say she was so glad to greet the day he was brought into the world by his side, he just loses all control LMFAO. It ends with them getting more heated and [redacted], to the point where he doesn’t even hear the clock strike midnight.

And if him being the cutest and sexiest romantic wasn’t obvious enough, he spends the next morning just sighing blissfully with her in his arms:

[The next morning, when I wake up, MC is still fast asleep. I mean, given she only fell asleep a few hours ago. I’m still reveling in the afterglow of a sweet night filled with her cries, the way she looked at me and held me. MC...]

[I relax to the sound of her breathing steady with sleep, stroking gently at her hair as I hug her from behind.]

Comte: “I’ve had countless birthdays. In an endless life, I was convinced it was just a day that would come and go every time.”

Comte: “It was only after meeting you that I could understand there was no such thing as an overlapping or identical moment. I don’t want to miss a single second by your side...that’s what I think now.”

[I admit the truth of my heart, brushing a kiss against her cheek. Over and over and over again, showering her in my affection--]

But dun dun dun!!! MC was awake the whole time, so when she fidgets a little at how ticklish his kisses are, he 👁

[Oh, I see. Well then, two can play at that game...]

Comte: “Your punishment is to stay in my arms just as we are...how’s that?”

He gets his mischievous (and hilarious) revenge for being revealed (HORNY TIME), though it’s so suffused with love it’s hard to call it revenge hahaha. She reminds him to go easy on her because they have his birthday party to attend later, and he agrees~

Honestly after such killer hurt/comfort spice fluff, I can only tremble at the thought of what his 5th year bday story will be

It’s either going to be Some Angst^TM or even more killer fluff, and either way that means my days are numbered

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #ikevamp leonardo #the way this man makes me have So Many Thoughts #every time i remember this story i just go dreamy-eyed #hes an absolute romantic and i die head empty only love comte #not incorrect quotes #rambles #fangdad propaganda #comte propaganda

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touyota · 3 years

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Hoe Hoe Hoe

☁️ Summary: Satoru Gojo *cough* *cough* I mean Santa Claus jingles your bells on Christmas Eve.

A/N: y’all this fic whooped my ass literally, but i think it came out pretty good. i think my smut is getting better, so hopefully i keep the momentum going for all my future fics. (also ik i’m late for the holidays but better late than never!)

☁️ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Elf Reader

☁️ Warnings: Size kink, bulging, slight breeding kink, gojo’s massive 🐓

The holidays were always an overwhelming time at the workshop. You and your fellow elves worked overtime to fulfill the yearly abundance of Christmas lists that were received, and to be quite frank; you were due for a fucking break. As a head elf, you spent your days monitoring the shop floor and managing quality control. Everything and anything went through you, especially before it got to Santa.

You were handling a crisis on the floor, something about a particular video game console shortage, when you received a message from the big man himself.

“I swear... if I hear another word about how we are out of stock, I will personally shove a candy cane up your ass. We’re fucking elves, just go make some more.“ You shooed the elf off before taking a deep breath. You wanted to tear your hair out, every minor inconvenience didn’t require your assistance, yet they always found a way to you. In a last-ditch effort to keep your composure, you began to practice a method you learned in your weekly anger management meetings.

“One….two….three….four….five” You exhaled, opening your eyes to see a particular pink-haired headache, elf approaching waving and skipping towards you. You started counting faster; hopefully, he’d be gone at the end of your count.

“One..two..three..four..five”

“Boss! Oh, boss! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Fuck he was getting closer. You braced yourself, hoping he was referring to another supervisor standing near you.

“Onetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfive”

“What’s with the counting boss? You must be counting down the hours before we give everyone the best Christmas ever!” Yuji cheesed, barely able to contain his giddiness. Oh, bless his heart, Yuji was somewhat new to the shop and was a hard worker, but a few screws were missing upstairs.

“I have a bomb ticking inside my head.” you deadpanned, hoping to spook him off so you could go hide in your office.

“Oh…..Oh no, boss, you need to get checked out immediately, we need to call the police, the ambulance, the bomb squad, we might have to cancel Christmas. If we cancel Christmas, they won’t get their presents, and they’ll all be upset an-“ It was truly endearing. You could almost see the steam pouring from his ears as he panicked about you and your well-being. You pinched his lips shut before he managed to alert the rest of the workshop.

“Yuji, I was lying…what do you need?” The panic drained from his face, a relieved smile taking its place.

“The big man wants to see you, something about squashing a few last-minute details. He trailed off, focusing his attention on someone in the distance. “Nobara, stop drinking my eggnog, and don't touch my cookies!” Yuji ran off, thankfully abandoning your conversation.

You began your trek to the big man’s office, the big man being Satoru Gojo, direct descendant of Kris Kringle and newly appointed Santa Claus. Gojo was indeed an enigma, barely leaving his office only for special occasions such as Christmas Eve and Christmas itself. The only way you could speak to him was if he requested you directly.

The walk to the office required dragging yourself up to three flights of stairs before you reached the red door decorated with brightly colored green tinsel and oversized candy canes.

You made sure to knock, you weren’t completely devoid of manners, and you wanted to keep your job. A sultry voice sounded through the door.

“Come on in.” You gently open the door, almost tip-toeing in before slowly closing the door.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I don't bite unless you want me to.” You scurried towards the desk, not wanting to waste any more of his limited time.

“......Sorry, Mr. Claus, I came as soon as Yuji told me he said something about a few last-minute details.”

“He was right; come sit right here.” As inviting as he looked, patting his lap, you took several hesitant steps before perching yourself on his lap. “Get comfortable; we have a few things to discuss, nothing outrageous, just a few... things.” You played the velvet fabric of your skirt as he droned off about the minor details that could’ve been dealt with by any other elf. You grunted in response to the open-ended questions asked. “I think that’s it. Did you get all that?” He skimmed through his never-ending checklist to confirm.

“Oh...um, yes, I did, in fact, I’ll go deal with that right now.” You dust your lap off and lean forward to push up off of the oversized chair. Only to find that you haven’t moved an inch. “Um…...Mr. Claus…I can’t move, and I need to….” you trailed off, disrupted by a gloved hand tilting your chin, forcing you to look directly into those soft blue eyes.

“Tsk tsk tsk, I knew you weren’t paying attention, puddin’.” He faked a face of hurt before using the arm that wasn’t wrapped around your waist to swipe his cluttered desk clear. “I said that-” Pausing to slam your form down unto the oversized desk. “I said that all I want for Christmas is to fuck you until this desk breaks.” He whispered, pressing several gentle kisses along the column of your neck. The room temperature had increased tremendously, and the red wool suit pressed against you made it no better.

“Uh...wow...um, it’s getting kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” You pulled at your collar, hoping to put some kind of separation between you two. You were in no way trying to reject his advances. You were just entirely ambushed by how fast things were moving. Another urgent concern was the sheer size of “Santa.” You were already genetically disadvantaged in the height category as an elf, but this behemoth of a man towered over you. It left you to believe that he was more than proportionate in the nether regions.

“I think you’re right. See, that’s exactly why you’re my right-hand puddin’.” Before you could blink, you were almost instantly rid of your gown, leaving you in your unfortunately modest black undergarments. You pouted, wishing you were given some kind of warning in advance. “Poor baby, next time I’ll let you get all dolled up for me, maybe I’ll wrap you up with a bow and leave you under my tree.” You couldn’t contain your whimper at the thought, roping your legs around his waist, mimicking the same motion with your arms around his neck.

A loud horn sounded off, signaling Santa’s departure was nearing. “As much as I’d love to sit and ravish you till dawn, duty calls.” You were drawn into several more gentle kisses before Gojo deepened the kiss, nearly smothering you. You were on the brink of suffocation when he finally eased up, allowing you to catch your breath. when you felt your panties tugged to the side. “You have such a pretty pussy puddin’. I could sit here and play with it all day long.” Two callused fingers daintily drew circles around your clit, stopping to pull at the sensitive nub causing you to whine at each tug.

“Ah- p-please...Santa” You couldn’t wait anymore. Each stroke brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“Please, what pretty girl? I won’t know until you tell me.” Purposely speeding up his ministrations.

“Please...please...please...fuck me.” You cried out, you could barely contain yourself, and he wasn’t making it any better.

The air knocked out of your chest as the blunt tip of his cock breached your entrance. There was a brief pause before Gojo’s hips slammed forward, setting a brutal pace. You couldn’t form any thought, only incoherent mumbles, and whimpers leaving your mouth. The desk was rocking with each thrust, nearly throwing you off.

“Y-you feel so fucking good, ugh...this sweet little pussy sucking me in. You like that, huh? Using you like a little fuck toy? Y-yeah, you’re Santa’s little fuck toy, you just lay there and look pretty, and I’ll fuck you full of my kids. I’ll make you Mrs. Claus, and you won’t have to work in that shitty little workshop anymore. How does that sound?” Gojo’s cock pounding away at your cervix, blurring the lines of pain and pleasure.

You could almost cry because it all sounded fucking amazing. You were floating on a cloud each stroke. The rhythm was slowing to deep, deliberate thrusts when you felt an oversized hand rest on your belly.

…….Holy shit.

You nearly fainted seeing the outline of his massive cock bulge through your belly. You could tell Gojo was close, skin slapping as his thrusts sped up again. The final press of his palm forcing you over, and Gojo the same with his final thrust. Both of you were murmuring and moaning as he nudged into another breath-taking kiss. The desk finally loses its bearing and falls apart, leaving you both as panting messes on the ground.

You had wood chips in places that they shouldn’t be, and the chuckling giant next to you wasn’t helping. Your quirked an eyebrow up and questioned him. “What’s so funny?”

“I think I need to add a new desk to my Christmas list.”

#satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #tw: size kink #tw: bulging #tw: breeding #satoru gojo

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