#married behavior no joke | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojorgeous · 4 months

Text

"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

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

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the-raindeer-king · 5 days

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(A/N: This is part 2 to my Mama Riley au! Thanks for all the love on the first one. ❤ no content warning and I'm trying to keep this gender neutral. Enjoy!!!)

You never expected your angry rant to actually change Simon's behavior. But it has, based on Mama Riley's weekly updates. He's stopping by more, staying longer. He's actually telling her things, mainly about his coworkers, but she's just happy he's finally opening up to her.

While you believe her, you're not seeing the change yourself. Fridays are when you have dinner with Mama Riley, and now apparently Simon too. He just… stares at you, a permanent frown on his face. As if you're the one intruding.

Part of you is glad he doesn't talk much. The few sentences he does speak, the low timber of his voice makes your heart race. Behind the scars and unwelcoming attitude, Simon Riley is a handsome man. But your loyalty lies with his mom. He needs to be a better son, and some silly crush isn't going to change your mind that easily.

Ironically, it's said loyalty that makes Simon fall for you so fast. His loyalty is rock solid, a promise held steadfast, an ache he feels in his chest every morning. There's no one Simon cares more about than his mom, and to see someone else care so deeply and fiercely about her makes you so insanely attractive to him. On top of that, your concern for Mama Riley made you willing to say something to him, and Simon knows he's off-putting and scary.

What I'm getting at is that this man is so down bad, it's not even funny. He'd literally take you to the court house and marry you immediately, if you were willing. But you're not, and he's kind of clueless on how to convince you to give him a chance. He'd rather catch a live grenade bare handed than ask his mom.

His mom who clocked the crush immediately, and is trying to help him without helping him. Even if their relationship is strained (much better now thanks to you!), she knows her son, and she knows he has feelings for you. And while she's not trying to meddle, she is trying to create opportunities for y'all to interact and get to know each other.

Opportunities that Simon keeps fumbling because he clams up so bad around you. He's never been good around people in general, and his crush on you just makes it twice as bad. Plus, he's aware that you hate him, and that's not doing him any favors either.

Mama Riley gives him time to make an attempt, only to watch him struggle and usually fail. But the attempts he's making with small talk, bad jokes, bringing you small knick knacks from deployment; it seems to be working. You're both opening up to each other, growing a friendship.

But as the months pass, nothing grows beyond a friendship. You don't want to ruin things between yourself and Mama Riley. Plus, you're not entirely sure where Simon's feelings lie. He's just as weird and off-putting as he was in the beginning, just now he tells you bad jokes and calls you ‘love’.

And, while Mama Riley promised herself that she wouldn't meddle - Simon's a grown man after all, he should be able to handle this - it's almost painful for her to watch the way you and Simon dance around each other. Nobody here is getting any younger, and after almost a year of watching you two, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

Simon's two months into deployment, when Mama Riley invites you over for routine Friday dinner. You're barely one glass of wine in, when she drops the bombshell on you.

“You know, Simon's in love with you.”

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #my writing #simon riley #there will probably be more. I'll have to learn how to make a masterlist but for now it'll be fine i guess lol #mama riley au

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goodbird1 · 4 months

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My firecracker

Alastor x fem reader

Word count: 634

Summary: Charlie learns about Alastor wife.

Warnings: mention of death and murder (please tell me if I miss any)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The hotel was celebrating for some reason or another he didn't particularly care. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a locket. Unclasping it reveals an image of a woman.

“I thought doing this would make me feel better in some way, or at least dull the pain for the time being” Alastor began, looking down at the locket. “It was foolish of me to think that would happen. It's happening all over again, and I don't think I have a chance to see you again.”

Tears started swelling in his eyes. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping them away.

“You know I always took you as someone who likes entertainment and parties are pretty entertaining” Charlie said coming out on the balcony.

“Oh I'm just getting some fresh air, it's far too stuffy in there” Alastor replied, shoving the locket back in his coat. Not before Charlie notices.

“What's that?” Charlie said, reaching out.

Instinctively Alastor slapped Charlie's hand away, holding the locket even closer now. Towering over her with a cruel look on his face, he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally he'd relish in it but this was no sight he wanted to see on charlie. Signing he pulled out the locket again shifting it through his fingers.

“My apologies dear,” he said, turning back to the city. “I didn't mean to snap, it's a locket with my wife's photo in it, it's the only thing I have left of her.”

“You never told me you were married,” Charlie said, coming to Alastor's side.

“I don't much like to talk about it” Alastor signed.

“Can I ask, what was she like?” Charlie questioned.

“Oh she was wonderful” He began. “She was a firecracker, always 3 steps ahead of everyone. Beat you in any game and once you thought you had the upper hand she'd pull the rug right out from your feet. She was kind and considerate, and believed in second chances. She'd taught me that. And oh she could sing like an angel. I would play the piano, she would sing and the world would fade away.”

“She sounds amazing, you know maybe if you redeem yourself you can see her again in heaven!”

“Haha oh darling, anybody worth knowing comes down here!” Alastor said between laughs. “She would always tell me she would rather burn in hell with me than sit alone in heaven. Did you know that our fathers decided to put us together to ‘contain our unnatural behavior’? And she came up with a plan to kill both our families and then burn the evidence! Oh it was then I knew she was the one.”

Memories started flooding back when they were both alive and then both died. But this time they didn't hurt so much now.

“What happened to her?” Charlie asked, bring Alastor back to reality.

“The first or the second time?” Alastor joked trying not to spiral.

“Both?” She whispered hesitantly.

“The first time she was in a tree, mistaken for a bird and shot down the fall was what killed her. The second time…” Alastor choked clutching the locket for dear life. Clearing his voice he started again. “Well you don't make it as far as I have without making a few enemies. They sent her back in pieces.”

“That's awful!” Charlie exclaimed.

“No need to worry they won't hurt anyone now.” Signing, he stepped away from the edge. “Come on dear, let's join the party.”

“Hey Al, can I ask one more thing?”

“And what would that be?”

“Do you think she would have liked the hotel?”

Turning fully around to face Charlie. A kind smile across his face with a hand reaching out for her.“Oh she would love it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hasbin hotel #x reader fic #fanfic

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puripurin · 3 months

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[2024 Valentines Day Special] [summary - Cupid wants your hand in marriage, but you think it's a prank.]

— "You, give me your hand in marriage!!" You stared at the pink haired man that had wings on his back with a blank stare. You look around at your surroundings once more before sighing.

"Sir. This is a 24-hour convenience store, not some comedy TV show." You yawned as you look down back at your phone because you figured he wasn't there to buy anything. Only thing is, HE FUCKING SHOT AN ARROW AT YOUR PHONE.

"The fuc—" Your mouth shut up so fast once you realized a heart-shaped tipped arrow was underneath your chin. You looked back up, and his face had an angry pout on it.

"Listen here, you! My mother says that you are my fated one, so you must give me your hand in marriage, or else I will find the entirety of your bloodline and end it right now." He huffed without looking away, making you feel he wasn't playing with his words.

"I- uh, but I'm not ready to be married as yet. I don't know your name, your likes and dislikes, nor have I introduced myself to your parents!" You tried reasoning with him, and it actually made him stop and think, so you spoke up again and pushed the arrow downwards.

"Don't you think I should be able to know about my "future husband", so we could have a "harmonious" relationship." You were bullshitting at this point because you still had your future ahead of you, i mean you were only 22.

"Ah... I see. Then we shall be boyfriend and girlfriend. Though, we shall be staying on Mount Olympus!" He smiled before jumping over the counter and on your lap.

"Wait, you're joking. It isn't funny to be pranking a minimum wage college student." You frown as you tried moving him away, but he sat there with no intentions to move.

"Well, you're not going to be a minimum wage college student in Mount Olympus!" He planted a kiss on you before making you open your mouth forcefully and shoving his tongue in it. He moaned in delight and hugged your body.

Once he pulled away, there was a warm feeling on your tongue that made you feel unsettled. All the pink haired man did was giggle at your behavior and blew a kiss at you.

"I've marked you. Now, the gods will know who you belong to." You blinked at him before trying to get up and leave from this ridiculous situation, but you didn't go that far as he summoned a portal to Mount Olympus and tossed you in, knowing that there was going to be a long fall and all you could say was,

"FUCK YOUUUUUUUU...." As you fell.

Hap Valinturns. Hope yall are giving your partners chocolate cus i want some. No, i don't have a partner but i got my friends :D. Anyways, it's short but dramatic like always.

No proofread

#yandere x reader #yandere #male yandere #yandere cupid

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yuwuta · 4 months

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*TEST DRIVE — YUUTA OKKOTSU

❝I WILL NEVER LEAVE BY YOUR SIDE, DON’T YOU KNOW YOU GOT A RIDE OR DIE

pairings. okkotsu/reader, uhhh implied maki/nobara and sort of itadori/fushiguro but that’s not so important for now

warnings, themes. non-curse/modern au, marriage of convenience au, i thought long and hard about who would fit this trope best and all i can say is that i didn’t really pick just one in the end, so if this spirals in a wedding/marriage playlist, you’ve been warned, um… sort of implied possessive behavior on yuuta’s end but it’s only teased for now :)

word count. 2.5k i can yap about him all day

playing. test drive/ariana grande, going crazy/exo, heart of glass/blondie, idea/taemin, tipsy/chloe x halle

“I just heard the funniest joke from Inumaki,” Nobara says, welcoming herself into your apartment. You’re not surprised, and continue with your dessert preparations. Yuuji, to your left, spares her a wave, before going back to diligently preparing the vegetables.

Maki is the only one to respond by turning slightly in her seat to raise an eyebrow at Nobara when she walks up to the island, “Since when do you think Toge is funny?”

“Not usually,” Nobara admits, taking the neighboring open seat. She crosses her arms atop the counter, and squints at you, “But he surprised me this time.”

Your eyes fidget to Maki, who seems equally confused by Nobara’s unnerving stare, then to Yuuji, who appears none the wiser, because he happily chirps, “Well, I wanna hear it! Tell us, Kugisaki!”

“He said that it was soooo kind of you to share your anniversary date with Yuuta and have us all over for dinner,” Nobara drawls, “Then I got confused, of course—but then I thought, ‘Maybe they’re secretly together and I just didn’t know. Wouldn’t be a huge surprise.’”

You flinch at that, “What do you mean that wouldn’t be a huge sur—”

“This is the funniest part, though,” Nobara squints, “He said that you’re actually married, and he meant that today is your wedding anniversary. He was pretty convincing, though. He’s very committed to the bit—even challenged me to ask you at dinner, but I figured I’d straighten it out now,” she drawls, reaching over to steal a cucumber slice from Yuuji’s station, “You’re not actually married to Yuuta, right?”

You pause, for too long. Maki’s disbelief shifts from Nobara to you, morphing into a threatening glare that makes you chuckle nervously. Yuuji keeps turning his head between you and Nobara, waiting for one of you to crack.

It’s not her. “Okay… define married,” you mumble.

Nobara all but jumps across the island, standing up and slamming her palms on the counter top. “What do you mean ‘define married’—there’s only one definition!” Yuuji frantically sweeps his preciously sliced vegetables out of her range. “You’re either married to Okkotsu or you’re not, which is it?”

You pause again. Too long this time.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Maki says, “It’s true? Toge says that shit all the time, how he can ‘still hear wedding bells’ when you two are around. Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

“Wait, you’re married?” Yuuji quips, “Since when? You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present!”

“Okay, okay—enough!” you yell, taking a step back, “It’s… true, but it’s not what you think. Yuuta and I are legally married, but we’re not together together.”

Nobara reaches to flick you on the forehead, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, we’re married on paper only,” you explain, strategically placing your knife in the sink, far out of Maki and Nobara’s reach.

“Say more words,” Maki demands, “Now.”

You sigh. Even Yuuji has paused his preparations, blinking at you with those big, wide eyes, and you know for sure there’s no way out of this now.

“It happened four years ago. I—”

Despite being the one who asked you to say more, Maki is the first to cut you off, incredulous, “Four years? You’ve been married to that beanstalk for four years and neither one of you twigs thought to mention it?”

“Maki, let her finish,” Yuuji pitches in for you, reaching a comforting hand out to your shoulder, “Maybe she was dying and needed Okkotsu-senpai to sign her insurance papers so the government didn’t sweep her away! I saw that in a K-Drama once,” he smiles proudly. Nobara pinches her face in disgust, immediately refuting and calling Yuuji an idiot for believing everything he sees on TV.

“Honestly, that’s not too far off. I’m not dying—and neither is Yuuta,” you hastily correct the worried faces peering at you, “But he was sick as a kid, and long story short is something got fucked up with his insurance when his parents died. It wasn’t a big deal, at first, but it spiraled into a bunch of issues, the biggest being the threat of taking his parents’ house away from him.”

Nobara pulls back, crossing her arms. “Why didn’t Gojo just do something then? That idiot has more than enough money to spare for some petty hospital bill, even with twenty years of interest.”

“He did,” you assure her, “But then the house became its own problem. His parents didn’t leave the deed in his name, and the community board tried to say that Yuuta had no assets and wasn’t a favored candidate for their neighborhood, even if he was their son.”

“That’s bullshit,” Maki interjects.

“Yeah, totally not fair,” Yuuji pouts, “That’s his dead parents’ house and they wanted him to prove himself?”

“Pretty much,” you sigh, “Basically marriage is something that helped prove his eligibility… plus some doctored philanthropic donations on Gojo’s end, and letters of recommendation from Shoko and her co-workers.”

Nobara tuts her bottom lip out. “I don’t know, I’m not buying it.”

“No, it makes sense. I’m sure by now all his parents’ neighbors are a bunch of uptight, old heads who didn’t want some kid throwing parties nearby,” Maki argues, “But once they hear he’s a young, married, nurse with a side hustle in philanthropy, I’m sure those geezers welcomed him with open arms. Sounds like some shit my family would do, too.”

Nobara hums, factoring in Maki’s evaluation. “Okay fine. Yuuta marries you, he gets his parents’ house back and probably commits insurance fraud too,” she settles, “But what about you?—You said this was mutually beneficial, so what did you get out of it?”

You probably should talk to Yuuta about revealing all the details of your marriage to your friends, but you knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Yuuta’s parents’ death and the issues that came along with it weren’t a secret at the time, but your problems are something you kept private. It’s a miracle you’ve gone this long under the radar, and you know Nobara isn’t going anywhere with unanswered questions.

“Permanent residency status,” you tell her, “Yuuta’s a citizen, so in marrying him, all my problems about finding a job in six weeks after graduation disappeared.”

“But… you got a job?” Yuuji questions, head tilted.

“Yeah, eventually, but I didn’t know I would, and it was either take that chance, or be forced to go back home, and my time was running out,” you reveal, twiddling your thumbs together, “Look, I would have said something at the time, but everyone had their own shit to deal with after graduation. I would have asked any one of you to marry me, but I knew Yuuta was the only one with a reason to say yes.”

The kitchen falls quiet as the news sits with your friends. Nobara and Maki’s stern disbelief slowly morphs into empathy, and Yuuji’s bright eyes grow steely with concentration as he pieces your story together.

Then he springs up, “Wait, I totally would have married you, senpai!”

You laugh, a lightness easing its way back into the room. “Thanks, Yuuji,” you lean to give him a kiss on the cheek, but you’re met with Nobara’s outstretched palm instead.

“Nuh-uh. Just because I think this marriage is insane doesn’t mean that I condone adultery.”

“It’s not adultery. I told you, Yuuta and I are married on paper only—he’s free to date and kiss whomever he pleases, and so am I,” You roll your eyes, pushing her hand away and giving Yuuji a kiss anyway, which he happily accepts, sticking his tongue out in mockery at Nobara.

Maki scoffs, “Are we sure that Yuuta knows that?”

“Of course he knows that.”

“So then why hasn’t he dated anyone?” Maki presses, eyes lowering into a teasing glare.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Who Yuuta does or doesn’t date isn’t really my business.”

Nobara pulls at her hair, “Yes it is. You’re his wife.”

“His contractual wife,” you correct.

“Contractual?”

“Wait—have Yuuta and Toge not totally kissed on several drunk, or am I the only one who saw that?” Yuuji interjects.

“No, that was you and Fushiguro,” Nobara says, “And nobody cares about you two right now.”

You put a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, “I care about you, Yuuji. Please, tell us about your drunk escapades with our dear Megumi.”

“Save it, Itadori,” Maki cuts in, crushing Yuuji’s bright demeanor, “You and Yuuta are way more pathetic. Keep talking.”

“Since when do you even like to gossip?”

“Since she met me,” Nobara gleams, proudly, “Now, keep going.”

You give Yuuji an apologetic glance before continuing, “I just mean that by the end of this year, Yuuta and I can get amicably divorced without raising any suspicion. Our marriage can’t be contested as a sham, I’ll be eligible for citizenship and housing on my own, and all will be well.”

It’s quiet again, for a moment. You bite your lip in anticipation. Ultimately, you knew that none of your friends would judge you and Yuuta for what you did, but it wasn’t exactly normal to marry your friends for legal benefits, and then hide your marital status from almost everyone you knew. Still, this conversation was going about as well as it could, until Maki starts laughing.

Her laughter starts off quiet, then grows gradually, until it becomes concerning. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Maki actually laugh before—a few amused grunts, and occasional drunk giggles, yes, but full-on, blown laughter is a first. It’s scary, and as you glance at Nobara and Yuuji, you’re clearly not the only one worried.

“You actually believe that he doesn’t feel anything for you—that’s rich,” she says through laughter, clutching her stomach, “God help you if you think you can just divorce him. You two are so fucked, you deserve each other.”

“Wait, speaking of rich, did you sign a prenup? Isn’t Yuuta totally loaded now that he’s a nurse and related to Gojo—I also don’t think that you’ll be able to divorce him that easily, but if you kill him, you could be an instant millionaire,” Nobara reasons.

“That’s so shallow!” Yuuji exclaims, “Also, I’m a nurse, and I wouldn’t say I’m loaded.”

“That’s because you’re not cute like Yuuta,” Nobara mocks, “If you were, then you’d make the big bucks.”

“I’m cute!” Yuuji cries, turning to you, “I’m cute, right?”

You reach to pat his head, “Yes, Yuuji, you’re very cute. And perfectly well off enough. Yuuta works inhumane hours for his money, don’t be like him.”

“Itadori, you make, like, quadruple what the average person makes,” Maki reminds him, “You just spend it all just as quickly.”

Nobara scoffs, “Which he can afford to do because he’s a nepotism baby.”

“You just said I was poor and ugly, and now I’m a nepotism baby? Pick a story, Kugisaki!”

“I don’t have to pick shit. Nanami-san sponsors your entire life, and enables your bad spending habits,” she huffs, “Yuuta’s a nepotism nurse, too. In fact, you both make me sick.”

“Okay, then by that logic Fushiguro is also a nepotism baby!”

“Well, duh. He’s, like, the poster child for nepotism babies all around the world.”

You drown out Nobara and Yuuji’s argument, mulling over Maki’s words instead. Did she mean to imply that Yuuta would make your divorce difficult on purpose?—you don’t see why; Yuuta doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body, and it wouldn’t serve him any purpose. You didn’t sign a prenup, but you would never argue ownership over any of his assets, and you know that Yuuta knows that; he’d already given you so much, you would never try to take anything from him.

In fact, getting divorced would only open more doors for him. You don’t know if Yuuta hasn’t dated in the past four years out of some lingering loyalty to your marriage, but if that was the case, then you don’t want to stand in his way for any longer than necessary, and you especially don’t want him to grow to resent you for it. He would no longer be unnecessarily bound to you; he’d be free, legally, to carry on with his life—you would be the only one indebted to him for his boundless kindness.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought much of your divorce throughout your marriage. You knew that after five years, you could get divorced without consequence, but you hadn’t pictured how that would go. The thought of it somehow messing with your relationship to Yuuta, and your mutual friendships makes your head hurt. Maybe you should have married Yuuji instead.

“Are you kidding, Yuuta would have mauled him,” Nobara chuckles, “Plus he would have lost his childhood home.” You blink. Guess you said that last part out loud.

Her words spark more bickering between her and Itadori, and this time you turn to Maki. It was evident that she was just as much in the dark as anybody else about your secret marriage, but, still, it seemed like she knew something that you didn’t.

“Maki, does... you said I think that Yuuta doesn’t feel anything—then what does he feel?”

Maki blinks, then shakes her head, “You clearly don’t know who you married. That’s for you and your husband to work out.” She continues, this time that same wicked laughter is back, “Just know that whatever your plan for divorce was, it’s not going to be that easy. Yuuta is stupid, clearly, but he’s not that dumb. At least, I hope not.”

You pout, shoulders slumping. That was about the most cryptic and least comforting response a person could give, but you shouldn’t have expected more from Maki. Luckily, Yuuji moves to give your shoulders a comforting rub, forgoing Nobara’s exclamations of him being a homewrecking harlot.

At this point, you can’t tell if their arguing or your overthinking is causing your headache. Maybe you should cancel this group dinner all together; there’s no way you and Yuuta won’t be the topic of conversation all night, and you’re not exactly looking forward to pairing Maki’s mystic messages with Toge’s public humiliation, unless you start consuming liquor now.

Deciding that’s the best plan of action, you turn to your cupboards to reach for a bottle of wine, pawning off popping the cork to Maki when your phone buzzes, catching your attention.

It’s a text from Yuuta, similar to one you’ve received on this day every day, for the past four years, with something a little extra tacked on this year.

from: yuuta 🌟 — happy anniversary (and i’m not just saying that because the feds are watching) (＾∇＾) — cheers to us, and many more! 🖤

#tldr; this is all toge's fault lmfaoooooo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta fluff #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jjk smau #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo smut

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Hahahaha good morning I had the wildest dream last night so I’m going to inflict it on all of you:

(I’m not done with keeper/kept. Just had to get this out)

Warnings for obsessive/possessive behavior, unhealthy and semi-one sided relationship, not-quite-dark John price.

John Price who decides it time he has a wife. Not retiring, god no! He’s not done yet. But his home is lonely when he’s on leave; he’s getting sentimental as he gets “older”. So, he wants a wife.

In theory, it sounds like just what he wants. A pretty warm thing snoozing in his bed when he gets home at ass o’clock in the morning. Someone to fret over new scars and fresh bandages. Someone to fuss at him for “taste testing” meals and wrinkle their nose at his cigars.

In practice, it’s not so easy. If it was, he reckons he would have been married by now. Good thing he’s already got the perfect candidate picked out.

You own a small business in his town. Not fabulously wealthy, but comfortable and independent. Something to keep you busy while he’s away but you make your own hours so your schedule it flexible to see him when he has infrequent leave.

And he adores you, knows that you’ve got more than a little crush on him. You smile and blush and reciprocate his interest, have only refrained from perusing anything because you didn’t think he was serious. But oh, he is.

One day you say something particularly charming and he says, “marry me.”

He’s been dropping these little jokes for a while now and you always start laughing because it’s just the kind of dramatic humor you love. Today you say something different than your usual overdramatic “oh but it could never work, captain.”

Today you say, “if only.”

How pathetic is it that you’re holding a candle for a man you’ve never even gotten a coffee with? Your family laments that your can’t spend your whole life married to your job. That they want grandchildren and nieces/nephews, someone to tell embarrassing stories about you to on holidays. You used to roll your eyes, but the prospect doesn’t feel so obligatory anymore.

Anytime you imagine it, it’s John Price there. You’ve stopped trying to imagine it for your heart’s sake.

Except a week later he’s sweeping into your shop and dropping a kiss on your cheek. An unusual greeting, but maybe he’s in a good mood. His hand lingers on the small of your back while you show him the new product that just came in.

You live above your shop and one day he shows up at the door with a bottle of wine, telling you he could use some good company. You’re shocked and confused but he looks like an amalgamation of every heartthrob in a hallmark or romcom you’ve ever “ironically” enjoyed. You invite him in.

By mid morning, he’s had you in every room of your apartment. Ate you out slow and greedy on the counters. Bent you over the dining table. Bounced you on his cock on your couch. Fingered his cum out of you in the bathtub. And absolutely ruined you twice over in your own bed.

He even changes the sheets before the two of you pass out that final time. And when you finally do wake up, he’s taken the initiative to brew coffee and make breakfast. It’s like a dream.

He fucks you against the door before he leaves.

When he’s deployed again, he calls you every night. You don’t expect it the first time, but it’s a sweet gesture to show things aren’t ruined. You’re not expecting the second time either and have to call him back when you climb out of the shower. The third time you wait for it, but still startle a bit when his name pops up on the screen.

He calls you every night he can while he’s away. You don’t know what to make of it.

Then one day you come back from errands to see movers in the yard. You think it’s some kind of mistake until John meets you at your car.

“Fire in the next building over,” he explains. “Their insurance will cover all the damages but it’s not safe to stay in your place. Mine’s just up the road. Figured you could stay until it’s sorted out.”

You want to be annoyed, and you almost are. But the overwhelm of nearly losing everything - only to have all the stress already handled and the important, nerve wracking decisions smoothed over? You just take the good luck.

To thank John for his generosity (and to fill the void of not running the shop) you bustle around his too-big house. Cook meals, keep things tidy. Keep John company when he manages to snag you from your gratitude-induced work.

He spends hours fucking you nice and slow, whispering things you barely remember in your ear. That you’re perfect for him, so sweet like a little wife, that he’d come home to you for the rest of his life. You kiss him quiet and rock back against him when it starts sounding too tempting.

Eventually, the repairs on your shop/apartment are done. It feels like a rude awakening to a pleasant dream. Instead of moving your things back, John moves more things in. When you tell him that you appreciate his kindness, but you should probably get back to your own space, he gets an odd look. Asks what you mean when this is your space.

And the trap springs closed.

“John,” you half-laugh, shaking your head. “We’re not actually married you know?”

“Not last I checked.”

The marriage certificate gets framed in the bedroom you’ve been sharing for a month. You storm out and stay in a hotel. He lets you for three days before coming to retrieve you. When you try to be stubborn, he gives you an exasperated look (as if you’re the one being unreasonable) and politely asks that you not make a scene by forcing him to carry you of there.

For your own reputation, you comply, glowering out his car window the whole ride to his house. Try to give him the silent treatment which lasts about 30 minutes before he’s got you moaning and whining on his cock.

He drives you to the shop in the morning and picks you up at night. Anytime you try to put your little foot down, he just scoops you off them. The neighbors start cooing that he’s such a good man. You try not to scream.

When he’s finally deployed again, you try to move all your things back to your home. Except the movers apologetically tell you that they can’t trespass on John’s property.

Fine, you’ll do it yourself. Somehow.

You pack two suitcases and some of your cookware. Load it all up in a rental - because John sent your damn car into the shop - and trying to get comfortable in your own flat again.

Except it’s all wrong. The scent of smoke still lingers, it’s cold because the heating hasn’t been turned on yet this year. Half your things are gone and there’s no food in the fridge or pantries. You tough it out. Buy a ready-made meal and new bed linens and pillow. Sleep in a bed too cold even with the heat finally on.

When John calls, you don’t answer. He sends a text that simply reads “I love you.” You toss your phone across the room.

The next night, when he calls again and you don’t answer, he sends a “stay safe, love.” You spend twenty minutes with fingers poised over the keys. Chug a glass of wine and send back a neutral “you too, John”.

When he calls on the third night, you pick up, bark a sharp “knock it off” and hang up. Another text that he was so happy to hear your voice.

Another call, you pick up and demand “what are you doing?” He chuckles on the other end. “Calling my darling wife. I miss you.” You believe him. That’s the worst part.

When he gets back, you ride the long, long river of denial right up until he’s at your door, eyebrows arched. “Really, love,” he hums, “you didn’t have to come all the way over here just because you missed me.”

You want to hit him. You storm off to your bedroom instead. He wanders the house. You hear him clattering in the kitchen and wandering around the living room. When you hear the door close, you think he’s finally left and given all this up.

Twenty minutes later, he’s casually removing the door (sans hinges) and gathering you up. When you get back to his house, he carries you inside and fucks the tantrum right out of you in the shower, growling that you don’t smell like home anymore.

When you wake up from your three-orgasm induced nap, he’s washing the clothes you took to your old flat. On your left hand is a pretty diamond with “JP” carved into the band.

At the store, people start calling you “Mrs. Price”. The neighbors (John’s neighbors) invite you over as “the Prices”. You glare at him when he starts looking too smug about it.

When he’s set to deploy again, he sits you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with arms.

“Don’t make me come get you this time,” he warns, pressing kisses along your jaw. “This is gonna be a rough one. I just want to see you when I get home.”

It’s a warning that you know to heed. You don’t try to leave this time. When he calls, you answer, rattling off stupid details about your day. You’re shocked to hear him remember names and dates and tasks with everything else hes got going on. Promises he’ll deal with the creep at the post office when he gets home.

“And… you are coming home… right?” you ask.

“Nothing could keep me away, love.”

He doesn’t call for three days straight. You tell yourself the tightness in your chest is just anxiety over how the hell to handle his assets if he’s dead.

At 3am, the bed dips, a warm body pressing up against your back. You recognize John’s arms wrapping tight around your waist. You stir.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Perfect now, love.”

“Mm welcome home.”

“Good to be home, gorgeous.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #john price x reader #john price #captain john price

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izvmimi · 3 months

Text

three for one - izuku x reader

cw: children mention. pregnancy mention. husband izuku, married female reader. reader wears a dress. a/n: a repost!

“I’ll be home in an hour. I can’t wait to see you.”

You smile ear to ear as you hang up, still savoring the sound of his voice, but in the immediate silence thereafter, the trepidation you’ve been feeling for the past month and a half resurfaces.

You let out a sigh as you set your cell phone onto the dinner table and return to the stove, turning pork cutlets that sizzle in oil and stirring a pot of soup. Rice steams in the cooker on the countertop, and the smell of Izuku’s favorite foods fill your home.

It smells heavenly, but you’re exhausted, and while the thought of the joy in his expression spurs you forth, you consider for a moment if you should have just aimed for takeout and an evening cuddling on the couch. The fact remains however that you haven’t seen your husband in two months and if you plan to give him life-changing news, you should probably do it over a home-cooked meal, even if he wouldn’t care either way.

After all, you’ve been hiding the truth from him for months now, and you can’t possibly any longer.

Your belly turns a little, and you worry that you might throw up again before you see him. The table is set by now, and you clean up as much as you can of the kitchen, hoping that the sound of running water calms your nerves.

Before long, Izuku makes it home, right on time, and he’s a whirlwind of motion and joy - his bags go flying out of his hands, as he whisks you into his arm, nearly smothering you with an embrace.

“God, I missed you.”

He spins you as you reply the same, and you can’t help but laugh and squeeze silly tears from your eyes as you wrap your arms tighter around his neck. Your Izuku is back, safe, and you couldn’t be any more grateful.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” you say in a voice that’s thick with affection. Your lips meet quickly and don’t separate, engrossed in a dizzying kiss. Your hands run through his messy waves and once your lungs all scream for air, he buries his head into your neck, making a show of inhaling your scent.

“I missed you so much,” he repeats, kissing your cheek. “So much.”

More kisses pepper your skin, and you blink back a few tears, and nod somewhat embarrassed. You’ve learned to be comfortable with his love language heavily reliant on touch. When he finally pulls back to look at you again, his smile is wide and innocent as usual, familiar and comforting.

Your Izuku, back for you. No scars, no injuries, you are thankful.

Once he’s finally set you down completely, he begins to tell you excitedly about his adventure, but you don’t miss the gentle yet protective hold on your arms, and the careful once-over, where his eyes quickly scan your body for bruises and other injuries. It’s a habit he’s picked up over time that’s made it nearly impossible to hide your clumsiness from him (something that further reinforces the behavior). It makes you particularly nervous today however, given the circumstances.

Today you wear a baggy dress with an undershirt that covers your arms, the changes your body has undergone in his absence much less evident, but he can still see the anxiety that underlies the excitement in your eyes.

If he does notice, he doesn’t say anything immediately, opting again to kiss you on the forehead, and pet your hair gently.

“Were you good while I was gone?”

The warmth in your cheeks returns, and you nod but give him a playful punch on his shoulder anyway for the paternalistic remark. He grins, then changes the subject although he too is a bit nervous, your slightly muted behavior getting to him. His eyes glide over to the rest of your apartment finally, and then to the dinner table, lighting up immediately.

“Oh my God, that looks amazing.”

He moves over to the dinner table to peruse the wars; you follow him quickly, tension dissipating slightly with the discussion of food.

“It better taste amazing too,” you joke, bumping himn on the hip. He takes the liberty to go one step forward and pat you on the ass before running off to the guest bathroom to wash his hands.

“Scrub beneath your fingernails!” you call after him, teasingly. You take the opportunity to wash your own hands in the kitchen sink again and consider what to do next.

How do you say this? Should you wait and let him relax first?

Surely it’s better if you say something before he puts two and two together? After all, the moment your clothes come off, he’ll notice.

Or perhaps he won’t. Perhaps he’ll just assume you’ve gained a few pounds and say nothing, kissing your belly softly as he’s prone to do. Perhaps it’ll be lovemaking as usual, and his usual sensitivity to your body and needs won’t be enough to notice.

But what if he does?

You were pregnant before he even left.

The days leading up to his trip had been hectic to say the least. Between the two of you preparing his departure, and the unnecessary safety precautions Izuku put in place for you for his absence, and your own work with the new Hero commission ramping up in urgency, you had barely registered that you’d missed one period and then another until you found yourself with a very positive pregnancy test.

What if it wasn’t the right time? Your marriage was still fresh, you’d just settled into the groove of being young professionals who lived together full time, and Izuku was so damn busy all the time-

“Come eat, love,” he calls from the other room. Your hand goes reflexively to your lower belly.

You have to tell him now or you’ll agonize over it. Now is the time.

—

“Is it good?” you ask , smiling as you watch him eat with gusto. It’s a silly question because he’s nearly cleared his already overloaded plate.

“Incredible,” he says between ravenous bites. They say watching someone you love eat fills you up, and it’s true. Your cup is full of love.

“You’d say that even if it were awful,” you point out.

“Yes,” he admits, “but I haven’t had to,” he teases. You narrow your eyes at him playfully and he does an air kiss, cheesy enough to make you blow air out of your nose. You pick at your own dinner, but manage only to get a few bites in, which he notices.

It grows quiet for a moment as you think, and you wonder again if now is really the time, but he beats you to breaking the ice.

“Babe, is everything all right?”

Your heart starts to pound. You glance up from your plate towards him and he watches you curiously and patiently, a fleck of rice still stuck to his bottom lip. You consider deflecting, telling him something else that is not really a lie, because his gentle gaze and furrowed eyebrows betraying concern distress you.

You don’t want to add more to his plate, figuratively.

And yet…

You swallow hard.

“Everything’s fine,” you start, and he nods, “but I have something to tell you.”

Izuku looks slightly surprised by the necessary warning shot. You don’t usually extend him that courtesy, so it’s clear that whatever you’ll say next is serious.

You breathe out slowly through your nose. Izuku watches you again carefully as you steel yourself.

“So you know how we haven’t been trying, but we’ve been a little less careful recently?”

Izuku’s eyes widen, and in the split second where the realization sets in, you can see his cheeks flush deeply and his mouth drop open in an ‘o’.

He immediately jumps to his feet.

“You’re pregnant?” he exclaims.

You nod slowly, and he seems to genuinely bloom with excitement.

“You… fuck, I-I can’t believe this! This is so exciting… babe!”

His hands rest on your shoulders then glide to your cheeks where he squishes them before kissing you again, barely able to contain himself.

Then immediately he starts to pace, the muttering beginning as he figures out what’s going to happen next.

“Why didn’t you tell me immediately? I can’t believe we’re gonna have a little girl or a boy-”

This is the hard part.

You slowly and deliberately raise three fingers and he freezes. A second then two passes, and you blink and then he blinks and the two of you watch each other in silence.

He mirrors the action, raising three fingers to meet yours.

“Do you mean… three…”

“Yes.”

The blood seems to drain out of his face.

“Oh. I need to sit down.”

He means it. As he settles back down into his seat, he genuinely looks dizzy and you make some sort of distressed sound between laughing and crying while he’s rubbing his temples, trying to make sense of the loop you’ve thrown him for.

“So… we’re having triplets.”

He looks up from the fixed point he was staring at on the table then at you, and you nod slowly. The both of you take a good look at each other again, and you sigh.

“I know this is so much all at once,” you start, “I’m sorry I-”

“Why are you apologizing for getting pregnant?” he interrupts with a chuckle. You give him a surprised look, then consider it. It’s true. Why are you apologizing for pregnancy?

He reaches over to grab your hand and squeezes it.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, pulling you towards him. You move over to him and he makes space for you to sit in his lap. Your head rests against his chest, and his heart, despite all the news you’ve just dumped on to him, now beats steadily despite yours that races.

Izuku thinks again, pulling your hand to his lips and kisses it softly. You can see the gears turn as you watch his profile, planning, strategizing. In this moment, you realized you were being silly.

“We’ll be fine,” he repeats. “We can handle anything.”

He turns to you, green eyes twinkling. “Right?”

You smile, genuinely, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Right.”

Bonus:

“You would fucking have triplets after I have my second, wouldn’t you, asshole?!”

“Kacchan, this has nothing to do with you!”

“Like hell it doesn’t! How dare you compete with me?”

You and Bakugou’s wife give each other a look and both sip your tea in unison, in amusement.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #cw pregnancy #cw babies #cw children

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jeneveuxrein · 3 months

Text

inevitable (BLACKPINK Jennie)

word count: 7.5K

(something light, in a sense it’s the prequel to best behavior, but my apologies for not getting this out when it was supposed to be, enjoy!)

-- --

The question is out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. It’s become a habit more than anything, but you promised it would be something you break in the new year.

You just didn’t expect the answer to change.

“Okay, Tuesday works.”

Your jaw almost drops, but your lips stay in a straight line, slowly curling up. If you’re being honest, you want to scream at the top of your lungs because finally.

“Sweet,” You answer nonchalantly. “I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Sure,” The woman stands from the barstool, a soft smile on her face. One you’re not familiar with, especially directed at you. It’s sincere, and personal that it almost feels like you’re seeing a side that’s been waiting to be shown. There’s something in your chest that blooms. “See you then.”

A small wave from her friend has you returning it back, watching them walk away. You hear giggles, and you know she could never keep her excitement to herself.

It sets in quickly as the door shuts behind the pair, internally fist pumping. All the time and effort finally paid off.

Kim Jennie said yes.

-- --

You laughed at Lisa’s joke, sipping your beer as you leaned against the counter. She was telling a story about how one of her dancers walked in on her changing, ogling a second too long that she ran out of the room. Only things like this would happen to her.

Someone asked a question when she walked in.

You almost dropped your drink because there was no one that had ever caught your attention like she did.

She practically lit up the room, and for some reason, you felt a little lighter. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this felt pretty damn close.

You played your cool, not wanting to seem too forward, too eager, to talk to her. That didn’t mean your eyes glanced away, they kept searching for her in the room as Jisoo pulled her into whoever they walked by. There were handshakes and hugs, and you wondered where you’d fall.

Your heartbeat lightly thudded on your chest when they were a few feet away. You’d soon get to meet her, and you hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

“Jendeukie,” Jisoo fondly called her as they stood in front of you. She introduced your name. You froze when your eyes met her—love at first sight never seemed so close, because you’d have to bet she felt it too.

Whatever it was.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jennie extended her hand out, a shy smile in her face

“Right back at you,” Throwing her a wink as her hand gripped around your palm. You noticed how soft her hand was, small too, but there was something about it that just fit right.

“Oppa! Don’t you dare,” Jisoo slapped your arm enough for your hand to drop Jennie’s. “I refuse to let the mandu be part of your list. Absolutely not.” She shook her head, disapproving already when you hadn’t said more than four words to her.

Jisoo dragged Jennie away before you could respond.

Lisa chuckled next to you, shaking her head. She knew you too well to know you were instantly attracted to the woman. It was obvious on your face. “Please don’t.”

“I’m going to marry her,” You said simply.

Lisa almost spit out her drinking. You weren’t one to mention commitment when you were dating all these women, let alone marriage.

“What?”

“I’m going to marry Jennie,” You shrugged, as if it was for certain, a small smile formed on your face when your eyes met her across the room.

A smile returned.

You groaned, frustrated again at Jennie’s rejection. You didn’t understand why she was being difficult. You thought she was interested in you.

“Unnie said no again, huh?” Rosie asked, chuckling as the waiter took away the empty plates.

“I literally don’t get it,” You shook your head at your phone screen, re-reading Jennie’s no. “Does she not like me?”

Rosie rolled her eyes, used to your dramatics. “She probably doesn’t like you the way you do if she’s said no four times already.”

It had been a month since you met Jennie, and you saw her frequently, thanks to Lisa inviting you to come along. At first, you didn’t want to go, but she’d slip in that Jennie would be there too. It was an easy decision to join whatever they did, even though you’d end up taking an insane amount of pictures.

Jennie was shy.

Or, at the very least, shy around you.

You would describe it as ‘shy’ because she hardly interacted with you. You had to approach her first, grasping at straws to have any kind of conversation with her.

You were able to get her number one night after clubbing, mentioning this restaurant that you thought she would like. It was the perfect segue to ask her out, but you later saw on her socials she went with one of her friends. She did, however, message you a thank you for the recommendation.

“I don’t get why you’re trying so hard,” Rosie commented as you pouted at your device. “Jennie’s never had a boyfriend, and sorry if it’s harsh, but I genuinely don’t think you’d be her first serious relationship.”

Something you knew very early on, but you were aware of the effect she had on men and women alike. You witnessed a lot of people ask her out. She entertained it, flirting right in front of you.

It wasn’t like you could say anything. You were just some guy that was around Jennie. You weren’t even sure she considered you a friend.

“You’re right,” You flip your phone over. “It’s probably not meant to be.”

You knew you wouldn’t listen to Rosie. There was something in your gut that told you to keep trying.

It felt inevitable.

You were almost at your breaking point. You didn’t know what would push you over the edge, but you were sure it was close.

Jennie said no again.

You offhandedly asked her to dinner after walking her to the train station. You took the opportunity to be alone with her while the others took a car to their respective homes.

You were thankful for your ‘friendship’ that had developed over the past few months. It had gotten to the point where you could hold a conversation, and she wouldn’t look at you with a blank stare. She even sometimes approached you, asking how you were and what was going on in your life.

Yet, you couldn’t figure it out.

Some days she’d always be near you, keeping you within arms reach.

Other days, she’d hardly look your way.

Rosie was also confused by Jennie’s attitude toward you. It took some time, but after a while, over a quick bite after work, she asked you if anything was going on. You couldn’t give her an answer since you were trying to make something happen, but rejection was always the outcome. Rosie didn’t know what was going on. She even went on to tell you that she asked Jennie herself how she felt about you, but she couldn’t get an answer out of her.

You were rolling with the punches at this point.

Christmas was around the corner and you wanted to do coupley things with someone, but the someone you wanted to do it with was making it difficult.

The worst part of hearing another rejection was that you had to see Jennie this evening.

Sana was hosting a holiday get-together slash birthday party before your friends leave to spend the end of the year with their families. She was adamant that you had to go because there was a surprise that you didn’t want to miss. When it came to Sana, you had to be weary. It took a bit of convincing, but you reluctantly said yes when all you wanted to do was stay home and play video games, especially with how work had been going.

Lisa mentioned earlier in the week that Jennie would also be there, which your enthusiasm to be at the same place with her waned these past few weeks. You’d be happy to see her, but at the same time, the no thank you she gave you echoed in your head.

You arrived at Sana’s, knocking on the door as you waited for someone to answer. You heard the sound of conversation on the other side, which meant the party was in full swing. A moment later, Momo opened the door, face lighting up as soon as she saw you.

“Oppa! You made it,” Momo greeted, hugging you briefly before ushering you in. You weren’t used to her being this excited to see you. She usually just gave you a nod, but as soon as you entered, you felt something was up.

“Hi Momo,” You smiled, handing her the bottle of wine Sana demanded you bring as you took your shoes off.

“Go to the kitchen,” Momo nodded encouragingly, the same smile still on her face when you walked in.

This is weird, you thought before doing exactly what she said.

You said your hello’s to a few of your friends, who had the same excitement on their face as you walked by.

You saw Jennie across the room, next to one of her friends, Hyujin, and Jisoo, laughing at something the latter was saying. She looked up as soon as you walked by. You didn’t say anything except shooting her a small smile before reaching the kitchen.

You scanned the room, noting the food and alcohol spread prepared by Sana, before your eyes fell on the back of someone familiar. You couldn’t quite place it, but you saw this person conversing with Sana and Lisa.

Sana shrieked when she realized you were there, halting most, if not all, of the conversations in her apartment.

“Oppa! Come here!” Sana waved you over, and as she did, the person in question turned around and you couldn’t help the grin forming on your face. “Look who it is,” She pointed excitedly.

Mina.

Being in the presence of your ex-girlfriend was a pleasant surprise.

You hadn’t seen Mina since she graduated and moved back to Japan. You spoke with her a few times, wishing birthdays mostly, but that was the extent. You kept up with her socials and whatever Sana or Momo would tell you, and from what you gathered, she had been doing great.

She was also still as beautiful as you remembered. Time had made her even more so, that you felt you were in the presence of a goddess.

You told her exactly that, which was met with an eye roll and a cheeky smile.

“Still with the compliments?” Mina shook her head, cheeks turning red as she sipped her wine.

“Never enough for you,” You leaned forward, hand resting on the back of the seat.

To your friends, the witnesses of your relationship, they wouldn’t think anything of it. It was a familiar sight to be close with Mina, regardless of how much time has passed. They knew how hard it was on you when the relationship ended, but everyone knew that it wouldn’t last. She was always meant to go back to Japan. There was an expiration date the moment you decided to be together.

Could you have followed her to Japan? Yes, but would you? Probably not.

You were in love with her, but you were glad you experienced your first heartbreak with her.

It was a lot of catching up, talking about what happened then, in between, and now. Mina was doing well for herself, developing games for one of the country's biggest companies. She lived a simple life, hanging out with her friends and occasionally traveling with her family abroad.

You were proud of who she had become. She wasn’t the same woman you fell in love with all those years ago–shy, reserved–that much was obvious. She was still shy, but there was an air of confidence around her that wasn’t there before. She glowed, smiling at your stories and laughing at your antics. You could tell she was proud of you too.

The topic of relationships came up, which Mina told you candidly that she was seeing someone. His name was Kyo, a bit of a hot-head, but he was only ever like that with his cousins. You were happy she found someone who drew her out of her shell.

In love always looked good on her, even if that meant it wasn’t with you.

“What about you?” Mina placed her wine glass on the counter, the rest of your friends in their own conversations around you. They’d join in, but ultimately left you two in your own space.

“What about me?” You sighed. “I haven’t really dated anyone since you.”

Mina tilted her head, analyzing your face. It was jarring whenever she did that. She always said there were ‘tells’ when you liked someone, even on a superficial level. Having been her friend before you started dating, she could figure out if there was a crush involved.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Mina’s eyes squinted, lip pouting as she took her eyes off you to look behind you. “But then will you tell me why I’ve been on the receiving end of a death glare since you sat down with me?” You almost turned around, but she rushed out, “Don’t.”

“What’re you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow, confused.

“You like someone, and they’re here, aren’t they?”

Leave it to Mina who could always see right through you.

A dejected yes fell from your lips, shoulders dropping as you quietly explained the situation with Jennie. There wasn’t much to say except you had been asking her out for quite some time, but it hadn’t gotten anywhere.

“I don’t know her, but if I had to wager, she probably likes you too.”

There was no way.

Jennie hadn’t come up to you since you arrived. You hadn’t even thought of her until now, too swept up with Mina’s presence .

“Doubtful.”

Mina made a humming sound before changing the subject, not commenting on it anymore. You didn’t have it in you to ask.

You waited for the elevator when you heard a set of footsteps approaching you. Your pulse quickened when you saw Jennie and Hyujin walking towards you. You decided to leave the party as soon as Jeongyeon suggested the start of playing games, mainly because you didn’t want to referee disagreements between Jihyo and Nayeon. It somehow always fell on you.

“Hi,” You bowed your head slightly the closer the pair got to you.

Hyujin smiled, giving you a soft hey as she stood next to you. The other woman looked at you with a tight smile before facing the elevator.

“Oh, shit,” Hyujin said after looking through her purse, “I have Jisoo’s keys. I’ll be back. If the elevator comes, I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”

Hyujin took off right as the elevator doors opened. You internally groaned as Jennie walked in, following after her.

Once the elevator door closed, you felt the hairs on your neck stand. The air around you suddenly felt tense, and you didn’t know what to do. You watched the numbers decrease, the elevator descending that it felt like forever being in such close quarters with her.

“How was your night?” Jennie’s voice came out so softly. You almost didn’t hear her.

“Oh, uh, well it was great.”

“Good. I’m glad,” You braced yourself, sensing her next question. “You spent a lot of time talking with Mina-ssi. How do you two know each other?”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” You raised your arm to scratch the back of your head. You had no reason to feel embarrassed, but you felt the need to explain yourself. “We dated in school, but broke up because she moved back to Japan. We’re still cordial.”

Jennie turned her head slightly, giving you an inscrutable expression. You still couldn’t figure her out, but if you had to describe it, she looked annoyed.

“Ex-girlfriend?” You didn’t miss the way she emphasized the first part. “It seemed a little cozy between you two.”

You were getting baited, and you fell for it.

“Mina has a boyfriend,” You deadpanned, crossing your arms.

“Sure she does,” Jennie rolled her eyes. “She didn’t act like she had one.”

Whatever she implied, you wouldn’t have any of it. You had always been protective of Mina, and her comment pissed you off.

“You don’t know her, so watch what you’re saying,” You said lowly, eyes glaring as she turned her body to face you.

“If I had a boyfriend, I don’t think he’d like me cozying up with someone that wasn’t him.”

“Why do you care?” You turned, nearly towering over her as she looked up, “Why do you care what Mina does? Wait, I think the better question is, why do you care what I do?”

Jennie scoffed, shaking her head, “I don’t know how that relates to anything-”

“I know you were staring at us when we spoke. Mina felt it across the room,” You cut her off. You took a small step forward, invading her space when you heard her breath hitch. “Jealous?” You grinned as her eyes widened.

The elevator ringing broke whatever trance you two were in. You stepped back, giving Jennie space as you watched her shake her head.

“Goodnight Jennie. I’ll see you around,” You say quietly, nodding as you walk away.

You didn’t know what the hell that was, but you didn’t look back. Your thoughts were in a mess because you saw a glimpse of how Jennie felt.

You couldn’t get your hopes up again.

-- --

“Just checking in,” The waitress serving your table is here again, for the fourth time. “Your date will be arriving soon, yes?”

“Yes,” You lie because you haven’t heard from Jennie since this morning to confirm the time and location. “She’s stuck in some bad traffic.”

The waitress nods politely, walking away before she stands among her colleagues. They whisper something, shooting you pitiful looks and it adds to the sting of how the night’s unfolding.

Jennie’s late.

Today is also her birthday, which you were completely unaware of.

The only reason you know is because later in the morning, while checking your socials, Lisa posted a picture of a birthday greeting to Jennie. You immediately called Rosie to make sure, uncaring that you woke her up in the middle of the night since she was in Australia. She hung up as soon as she said yes.

You didn’t think Jennie would want to spend part of her birthday with you, of all people. You also didn’t think she wouldn’t share this piece of information with you. Your mistake for not knowing it was her birthday because she only ever said it was at the beginning of the year. Sure, you could have asked for an exact date, but still.

This wasn’t how you expected things to go.

Things were weird between you and Jennie after Sana’s party. You didn’t bother meeting with them when Lisa invited you. You had to clear your head because all these mixed signals from Jennie were throwing you off. If you were in the same vicinity, especially with the not-tense exchange in the elevator, you were sure you’d say something you’d regret. You were still surprised she didn’t slap you for what you said. It was warranted.

You saw her right before the year ended, and things were the same–in a way.

You still spoke to each other the same, but there was something between you that you couldn’t ignore. She felt it too. There was some truth to what you said, even if it was very little, because she acted very much like a jealous girlfriend. You contemplated talking to Lisa about it, someone who gave reasonable advice, but opted not to because Lisa had been trying to get you two together, that it would make her try harder.

Jennie was more guarded than when you first met her. She was still polite and open to talking to you, but you got the impression there was more she wanted to say. She never did, leaving you to wonder.

Then, you happened to be meeting Jinseok and Habin for drinks after work when you saw Jennie sitting alone at the bar. You didn’t want to say hello, but something compelled you to. When you approached, Jennie’s face lit up in surprise, but a small smile formed. You made small talk, asking about her day and what she was doing there, which she said she was waiting for Hyujin in the ladies’ room before they went off to dinner.

You couldn’t help yourself from asking will you go on a date with me, but the words fell from your mouth. You froze, realizing that you didn’t intend to ask her out again, but it happened and she actually agreed.

Jennie chose today as the day, but she’s not even here. You were losing hope that she was even going to show since she’s thirty minutes late. The sympathetic looks you’re receiving from the staff has you feeling low.

You fold the napkin on your lap, placing it on the table. You couldn’t wait anymore, chalking this date as a fluke. She probably didn’t mean to say yes.

When you turn to wave your waitress over, you’re met with the sight of Jennie rushing towards you. She pants, out of breath, once she reaches the table, shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry,” You hear her say, watching her lean on the chair. “My phone died as I was leaving my place, and there was traffic because of the snow.”

You lower your hand, giving her an understanding nod. It didn’t matter if she was another thirty minutes late. None of that matters now because she was always going to show up.

“Happy birthday, Jen,” You say softly, standing to help her take her coat off.

She gives you the brightest smile, which has you absolutely giddy.

It’s getting late, but no one in the restaurant seems to mind. It’s practically empty except for a couple of the staff–your waitress included–as they begin setting up to close. You assume they wanted to see how the night would pan out.

This has been the best date you’ve ever been on, and you hope that there’s another and another.

It’s different being with Jennie like this.

You’re so used to being with her with other people around, that being alone with her made you nervous you wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Surprisingly, you had a lot to talk about. She’s much more open with you, telling you about her day and how her coworkers held her up after work to ask more details about the date she was going on. You teased her, which she took in stride because it was a big deal she had a date. She explained she didn’t talk that much about her private life, but it slipped out that she had plans with someone–a man of all people–to celebrate her birthday.

“I didn’t even know it was your birthday. I found out through Lisa’s post.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to think it was a big deal.”

It is a big deal that you’re spending part of her birthday with her, and she knows it. She’s making a statement, and you think you’re understanding it correctly.

You’re also learning Jennie’s much more expressive than she lets on. She’s generally cool and collected, smiling at the right times, when she’s around you and her friends. She’s animated when she tells you about herself, what she likes, dislikes, and how she cried watching a recent drama because it was so sweet. You’ve watched her expressions change throughout the night as she tells you things you’ve never heard about her.

“You didn’t have to pay,” Jennie looks away when the waitress picks up the bill, your card tucked in between the folds. “I’m still sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine,” You wave her off. You planned to pay anyway, regardless if it was her birthday or not. You cared the most about Jennie showing up. She scared you a bit running late, but she’s here.

“You say it is, but I feel terrible about it,” You can tell she means it. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Jennie,” You say softly, reaching for her hand on the table, hoping it wouldn’t be too much. She doesn’t flinch, thankfully. “It’s okay. You’re here. I’m honored you wanted to spend part of today with me.”

“Still,” Jennie pouts, and it makes you want to kiss it away.

“Answer me this then,” You rub the back of her hand with your thumb, “Why’d you finally say yes? I’ve been asking you out for months.”

You can see the wheels turning in her head as she formulates an answer. The waitress is back with the paid bill, giving her time to think of a response as you sign. Once you shut the book, you wait expectantly.

Jennie sighs, this time reaching for your hand, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, “I couldn’t really give you an answer. I’ve seen how you interact with girls and Jisoo-unnie has been in my ear about how you’re a player and not good to women. She even went as far to call you a pig,” You couldn’t stop the eyeroll if you wanted to, which Jennie doesn’t miss. “But after seeing how you were with Mina, it’d made me think Jisoo’s wrong, and that it’d be nice to be with you like that.”

“So you were jealous,” You smirk behind your wine glass. Jennie pinches your skin, but quickly soothes the area with her finger.

“I wouldn’t call it jealousy,” Jennie shakes her head, adding, “I don’t get jealous.”

“Sure.” She’s in denial, but this is still too new for you to start joking with her like that–whatever this is.

“Anyways, I saw a side of you I’ve never seen,” Jennie’s gaze meets yours. “I just thought that could be with me.”

You take a moment to process everything she said, but it’s all jumbled with how she’s looking at you.

The only thought you have right now is that you want to kiss her.

“Jennie,” You groan as your back hits the doorknob, metal digging into your body as she presses herself against you.

“What?” Jennie murmurs against your lips, hands swiftly moving to unbutton your coat, shrugging the article of clothing down your shoulders before it hits the hardwood floor.

“We don’t have to do anything,” You moan out after her teeth bite gently on your bottom lip.

You didn’t think the night would end like this.

You offered her a ride home since you drove, and you didn’t exactly trust a stranger since it was late. She declined at first because she lived on the other side of the city, and she didn’t want you to go out of your way. She relented after assuring her that you wanted to, adding sweetly that it was making up for the time spent waiting for her.

You couldn’t explain it, but something shifted once you entered the car. The tension was palpable that you couldn’t do anything but focus on the road. At one point, Jennie took your hand and placed it on her thigh. Her fingers played with your hand, lightly brushing over your skin that had your body shivering underneath her touch.

If Jennie noticed your internal struggle, she didn’t say anything. She kept on talking as if your body wasn’t having a visceral reaction.

As soon as you parked in the driveway, shutting the car off, Jennie turned to you, fingers interlaced, “Do you want to come inside?”

You berated yourself for making a simple question sound so dirty, but you nodded dumbly as Jennie smiled. She let go of your hand and turned away to open the car door. You hurried out of the car to get the door for her, which you were able to open it enough for her to stand up. When you shut the door, she leaned against the car, looking up at you.

Neither of you moved, but all of a sudden, her lips were on yours and your hand shot out to grip the car frame. Her arms encircled around your neck, pulling your body flush against hers. You heard the soft moan as your tongue grazed her bottom lip, automatically granting you access that ignites a fire.

You thought of your first kiss with Jennie in your head multiple times, but the reality was so much better. Her lips were soft, but demanding, as the months leading up this moment boiled over. You felt all the pent up energy in your body leave as your tongues wrestled in a frenzy.

Jennie pulled away, breaking the kiss, as her hand found its way on your chest to gently push you off. You didn’t say anything as she dragged you towards the entrance, dazed from the kiss.

You probably should have paid more attention to your surroundings, but you wrapped your arms around Jennie as she inserted the key into the lock, making sure she knew exactly how she made you feel.

Once the door opened, Jennie pounced.

“I know we don’t,” Jennie tears her lips off yours, trailing kisses on your jaw. “I want you.”

“Are you sure?” Your control’s slipping when she sucks lightly on your neck. You want her, that much was obvious. You also want her in the morning and the next.

“Yes, and before you ask again, yes,” Jennie leans back to look at you, giving you a small nod that she feels the same.

You’re about to say something when Jennie drops to her knees, hands unbuckling your belt and untucking your dress shirt. Your head falls back, hitting the door as she quickly undoes the button.

“I want,” You try to get out but Jennie palms you through your briefs, “To go out again.”

“We will,” Jennie nods, slipping her hand underneath the waistband before a soft fist encircles around your cock. “You’re bigger than I imagined,” She comments as she strokes you slowly.

It goes straight to your head as she frees you from the confines of the fabric, shrugging your pants down mid-thigh. You watch her eyes widen as she sees your cock up close.

“Jennie,” You grit out, the sight of your cock over her face has you losing your balance. You’re thankful the door’s holding you upright.

Jennie gives you an innocent look before her next move has her everything but. She pokes her tongue, flicking your tip, that has you pressing your weight against the door. Your hands ball into a fist as you watch her kiss all over your cock. She licks up and down, swirling over the tip, and you can’t help the guttural groan leaving your body as her lips wrap around the head.

That’s when you knew you were in trouble.

You’re entranced as Jennie slowly takes more of you inside her mouth. You could cum right then and there, and you almost do the moment your tip touches her throat. She coughs slightly, pulling back for air.

“I don’t think I could take you right now,” Jennie whispers, gaze locked on you while her hands don’t remain idle.

“Practice makes perfect,” You quip, ignoring the tension in your stomach as her mouth engulfs you again. Her cheeks hollow out, the suction causing your eyes to roll back. “You’re so good.”

“Am I?” Your cock’s out of her mouth, a resounding pop echoes through the house.

“Yes,” You nod, bringing a gentle hand to thread through her locks. Her expression darkens, eyes filled with lust that has you wondering how far you could go. “So good.”

Jennie raises herself, keeping her hand around your cock. You gulp when she leans against you, breath against your lips, “As much as I’d like to drain you with my mouth, which I will at some point, I need this,” She squeezes your cock, the pain never felt so good, “Inside me.”

You can’t do anything but nod. Jennie literally has you in the palm of her hands, and if she wanted you to fuck her, who are you to say no?

You’re doing everything you possibly can to not snap your hips forward. You’ve resorted to doing mental math because the sensation of Jennie’s pussy wrapped around your cock has your head(s) spinning.

Her walls pulse as your length sinks deeper into her. You couldn’t ignore the sounds falling from her mouth, the soft moans and breathy sighs as her body takes you in.

It isn’t without preparation because you spent a fair amount of time in between her legs. You might’ve gotten drunk on her taste, that she had to physically pull you off from overstimulation. You didn’t know how many times she came, but it was evident on your face and the bedsheet.

“You’re too big,” Jennie pants out, hands wrapped around your wrist, gripping tightly that her nails dig into your skin.

“We can stop,” It pains you to say that, but you don’t want to hurt her.

Jennie frantically shakes her head, biting her lip, “No no no. I want it, please.”

“Baby,” The nickname leaves your mouth easily, and her pussy twitches, “Just breathe.”

Her grip loosens as you watch her chest rise slowly before expelling a long breath. Your jaw clenches as you feel your cock slide in more, and you shouldn’t have glanced down.

It’s absolutely filthy the way she sucks you in. You’re over halfway in, and you genuinely didn’t know if you’d be able to last.

“Kiss me.”

You bring your lips down, distracting her and yourself. She moans into your mouth, greedily swallowing every sound and breath as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you deeper into her body.

“Fuck,” Jennie’s head snaps back, tearing her lips away as her little move brings all of you in.

You swear you feel something leave your body, whether it was your impending orgasm or your soul, you didn’t know. All you know is that having Jennie wrapped around you—tight, wet, and hot—has you burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“You feel so good,” You groan against her skin, pussy tightening at the praise. “Jennie,” You choke out.

“Tell me I’m good,” Jennie commands quietly, and there’s a shift in the air, something you’ve never experienced with any of the women you’ve been with—something darker.

“Who said you were?” You taunt, nipping softly at her ear.

“You don’t think so?” Jennie plays dirty, wrapping her legs around your waist, pulling you deeper into her that has both of you sucking in a breath.

“That definitely wasn’t good,” You grit out as you subtly shift your hips, eyes rolling back as she chuckles.

“I’m sure you could make me,” She kisses you sweetly on the cheek before saying, “You know you want to.”

Things go downhill, or uphill, depending on how you look at it.

In that very moment, her words break something inside you, unleashing the control you tried so hard to keep. You don’t give her, or yourself, any notice when you slide your length out, keeping your tip snug between her lips before thrusting back in, her body jolting at the movement.

“God, yes,” Jennie moans, her limbs hugging you tighter to her body as you start bucking into her, hands sliding underneath her small frame.

You’re not sure if you black out, but the only thing spurring you on is Jennie’s moans and breath on the side of your face as you pump in and out of her slick. You thought it would be difficult, given how long it took for her to take you, but as you move easily within her body, thrusting and rolling your hips to hit that spot inside of her. It’s like she was made for you.

“Jen,” You don’t recognize your voice after a particularly hard thrust and squeeze from her, signaling that you were close.

“That fast?” You don’t need to see her face to know she’s smirking, but it’s a façade. The way she’s pulsing around you proves she’s right there with you.

“You feel so fucking good,” And her pussy reacts, squeezing as her breath hitches, nails scratching down your back. “You like hearing that, huh? Be good for me, baby.”

It happens suddenly, knocking the wind out of you as Jennie’s body seizes, back arching, chest pushed against yours when she screams. A gush of wetness covers you as her orgasm rips through her body, triggering yours that you had no time to pull out. You capture her lips, groaning as you paint her insides white, hips stuttering as her walls throb—pulse—along your cock.

Jennie whines as her wombs fill with your essence, moaning, whispering how good it feels inside her. She rocks her hips, making sure she milks you dry before her limbs sprawl out on the bed.

You’re usually not this reckless, especially when it comes to sex. You tend to use protection, but that seemed to go out the window. Jennie was too determined, too tempting, too hot that it didn’t cross your mind—at all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You mutter, pulling quickly out as your lust-filled mind clears. Jennie lets out a small gasp. “Fuck I’m so sorry.”

“What? Hey, where are you going?!” Jennie’s legs try to wrap around you before you step away, but you’re quicker.

“We didn’t use protection,” You say harshly, shaking your head at your carelessness.

“Okay? And?” Jennie sits up as you start pacing back and forth in front of her. “I’m clean and on the pill. Are you?”

“Of course I am. I get tested regularly,” You roll your eyes, slightly offended by her accusation.

“Okay, so we’re fine. If I wanted to use a condom, I would’ve made you put one on, so can you just come back to bed. You’re stressing over literally nothing,” Jennie reaches for your arm, pulling you to stand in front of her. “It was great,” She places a soft kiss on your stomach, peering up at you. “Lay with me.”

Jennie’s stronger than she lets on, pulling you down to lay next to her. She rests her head on your chest, locking a leg over yours so you have nowhere to go. It calms you, being wrapped around by her. You sigh contentedly as her finger absentmindedly traces over your abdomen.

“You know,” Jennie says quietly, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been with you since the day we met.”

“You had your reservations, it’s understandable,” You place a soft kiss on her forehead. “But I swear that I’m not that much of a fuckboy as Jisoo makes me out to be.”

Jennie chuckles, shaking her head, “I see that. I do. I think I can trust you.”

“Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend? One date was all it took?” You tease, earning a light slap.

“Maybe take me out some more, and I can see us being together,” Jennie kisses underneath your jaw.

Something blooms in your chest, that same feeling you had when you first saw Jennie all those months ago. It’s scary to feel this strongly about her so quickly, but you’ll lean into the feeling because whether you want to or not, you know you’ll fall in love with her.

If you haven’t already.

“And with how you are in bed,” Jennie murmurs against your skin, “I’m not entirely keen on sharing you with anyone.”

You don’t plan on being with anyone else after her because there’s something there that only she could get to.

Instead of being all sweet and romantic, you opt to respond with a joke, “So you are the jealous type.”

“Possessive might be a better word,” Jennie whispers seductively. “I’m sure it would take very little from me to make you mine.”

“Do I want to be yours?” You quip, rubbing her skin softly.

“I’m sure I could convince you,” Jennie mumbles, kissing you sweetly one last time before she climbs on top of you. “Right?” Her eyes narrow as she subtly grinds along your cock, waking at the movement.

“Maybe,” You nod, eyes locked on her as she smirks.

“Can you go again? Or do you need a break?” Jennie bends forward, meeting your lips with hers. She dips her tongue into your mouth and you moan softly against her.

“I might need some help,” You say sheepishly as she giggles.

“I want you in my mouth anyways,” Jennie murmurs, trailing her lips down your neck as she shifts her body. “I’ll be good.”

And fuck you know she will be.

-- --

“I love you,” Jennie drunkenly mumbles against your lips, wrapping her arms around your neck as she tries to deepen the kiss.

“Baby,” You smile, trying to keep this kiss as PG as possible given you’re at a club with all of your friends.

“I do,” Jennie pulls away, pouting.

That’s the thing you’ve learned about Jennie these past few months. She doesn’t talk about her feelings a lot, but when she does, it’s one of the things you love the most about her.

And yes, you love her. You’re in love with her. You told her after three months of making it official. She didn’t say it back, nor did you expect to. She keeps her feelings to herself, only sharing them with her closest friends. As time went on, she opened up, telling you how she felt in not so many words, but enough to know she was falling for you, hard.

“I love you too, Jen,” You grin, watching her roll her eyes underneath the strobe lights.

“You’re not hearing me, I love you,” Jennie crosses her arms. “Like I’m in love with you.”

Oh.

“You’re drunk,” You shake your head because her telling you she’s in love with you, drunk, in the club, with all your friends around, wasn’t how you expected this confession.

“I am,” Jennie nods, scooting closer to you enough to swing her legs over yours. “But I know what I’m saying and I’m in love with you.”

“You’ll tell me again in the morning?” You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to get your hopes up.

Jennie nods, leaning forward to kiss you again. “I’ll show you just how much I love you till then.”

You tap her legs, moving them away, before standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Jennie asks as you pull her up, interlacing your fingers together.

“Home,” You say simply, and she gives you the brightest smile before nodding.

“Make me cum tonight, yeah?” Jennie whispers seductively in your ear.

Like you won’t.

You’ve always been a light sleeper, and when you feel the bed dip, you wake up slowly. You watch Jennie slip on your shirt, feet padding into the bathroom.

Last night was intense in the best kind of way.

Jennie showed you exactly how much she loved you by the way she rode you until you came inside her. She wouldn’t let you rest, keeping your cock inside of her until you got hard again. She begged you to keep fucking her, the word daddy got thrown around, and that was it for you.

Right before she came, she told you she loved you again and you let her come around your cock as you fucked her from behind, thrusting inside of her before you met your release.

Jennie’s back in the room, sliding underneath the blanket before snuggling into your side. “I know you’re awake.”

“What gave me away?” You ask, clearing your throat when you realize your voice is thick with sleep.

“You always wake up whenever I leave the bed,” Jennie murmurs.

“Can’t help that I miss you as soon as you go.”

“Such a sweet talker,” Jennie giggles, “But I do have something to tell you.”

You wait, giving her the time she needs to gather her thoughts.

Jennie lets out a shaky breath before looking at you, “I love you. Like I’m in love with you, and you know that I’m not really someone who expresses my feelings, but yeah I’m in love with you. I think I was always going to since the day I met you.”

You smile, closing your eyes contentedly. “Thanks.”

“What?” Jennie slaps your chest. “Say it back!”

“I love you, Jen,” You open one eye, “You’ve known this.”

“I know,” Jennie huffs, slapping your chest again. “But still.”

“Careful, I don’t need you getting all soft on me now,” You tease and she huffs against your neck.

You might be joking, but you know how serious Jennie’s being. She’s never had a relationship, and you feel some pressure being her first. It’s not enough to have you running because you want to make this work.

She is, after all, the woman you’re going to marry.

-- -- --

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