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#that little glimpse of the kiss lmao
booasaur · 6 months
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Beacon 23 (2023) - Official Trailer
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gojorgeous · 3 months
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"creature of myth."
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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)
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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.
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halfvalid · 7 months
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nobody but you
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ABOUT
alternate title: the jealous character trope is actually kinda fun to write
rating: teen+
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!vinsmoke sanji | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 3.5k
description: sanji flirts endlessly with you while dining at the baratie. zoro is displeased.
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, no use of 'y/n', establishment of relationship, flirting, alcohol consumption, pda
author’s note: i got like ~5 requests to write this so here you guys go! this was a popular one lmao. the story is a vague spinoff to my other fic pretty in that, but it doesn't have to be read to understand this one.
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You’d volunteered to deal with the docking fees for the Going Merry, locking up the pirate ship as the rest of the crew entered Baratie. You were just five or so minutes late entering after the restaurant the rest of the Straw Hats had gone into. You’d never seen anything like it before—an eatery right in the middle of the ocean, in the shape of a giant fish. 
You stepped into the building cautiously, glancing around the wide expanse of the main room to try and catch a glimpse of your friends. The restaurant was big, with a mezzanine that you’d entered in and stairs leading down to the first floor. The host, a fishman who was standing at the reservation desk, glanced up to take a look at you. 
“Ah, you must be with the pirates,” he said pleasantly. “Right this way, miss.” 
You nodded, wondering how Luffy was intending on paying for the bill of such a place as you scoped out the area. It was far nicer than anything you would’ve expected—but then again, he’d somehow managed to score the Going Merry from Kaya back in Syrup Village, so you figured he’d work something out. 
Finally, you caught a glimpse of the rest of your crew, tucked away in a circular side booth that the fishman led you to. Luffy brightened upon seeing you, waving you over with a hand so excitedly you feared it was about to flop around like rubber. Considering his powers, that was a more than likely situation, actually. 
“Thank you,” you told the host, then turned towards your friends. “No food yet?” 
“You didn’t miss much,” Usopp said, a little snicker in his voice. “Just the waiter getting our drink orders. He was flirting the heck outta Nami.”
“Oh?” you asked, a smile flickering up your lips. The only open space in the table was between Zoro and Nami—you gave Zoro a confused look, and he gestured down to his swords, which were caught in the ledge between the chair and the wall. You snickered. “Ro. You’re such a loser.” 
“Shut up,” Zoro muttered, hand on your waist as you climbed over him to get to the empty seat. It stayed there for a moment longer, even after you’d arranged yourself in the seat, before he finally dropped his hand. Usopp made a face that you pointedly ignored. 
“What’d you guys order?” you asked instead. If there’d been a menu available, the waiter had probably taken it away; still, there wasn’t much variety in the East Blue, so you could expect there’d be a lot of seafood and not much else. 
“One of everything,” Luffy responded brightly. “So we’ll be able to try the whole menu!” 
“You sure that’s a good idea, Cap?” you asked, brows raised. Luffy shrugged. 
“I don’t see why not.”
“Quit it with the nickname,” Zoro muttered. Neither him or Nami had gotten any more receptive to it since you’d first started calling Luffy it. Usopp didn’t seem so keen on it either—if only because he fancied himself Captain Usopp. Luffy liked it, though, and that pleased you enough to keep using it.
“I’ll get you to start saying it eventually,” you teased, nudging Zoro in the arm. He shook his head, but there was a suggestion of a smile on his lips as he glanced away. “Just you wait.” You turned to Nami, eyes sparkling. “What about the waiter, though? Was he cute?” 
Usopp laughed at that, and Nami gave you a disparaging look. “Come on,” she started. “Not you too. Zoro was all—” 
The sound of footsteps cut off her speech, and you glanced up to find a lean, blond man pausing by the lip of your table. He held a silver plate, upon which perched a variety of different drinks—beers, milk, water. “Here are your drinks,” he said, voice lifting with an accent you couldn’t quite place. “And appetizers.” 
He had just finished placing the last of the drinks balancing on his forearm on the table when the waiter glanced up and registered you sitting there. His expression instantly changed, the crease of his mouth softening into a pleasant smile, his previously-dull blue eyes bright and sparkling. “Well, hello there. An addition?” 
“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” you said. The waiter flashed a grin, white ivories shining under the fluorescents.  
“Oh, absolutely no problem. They say those who are late are fashionable, and you, madam, certainly fit the bill,” the waiter said. Your eyes widened, glancing over to Nami to find her shaking her head, but the waiter didn’t stop there. “I’m Sanji. What can I get for you to drink? We’ve got a wide selection of fine wines that might suit your taste.” 
“Oh, um—” you started, glancing at the rest of your crew again. Usopp was hiding his snicker, and Nami was giving you a tired look. Assumedly this had been the man who’d tried it on her, too—to unfortunate ends, probably, considering how Nami was. Not that this would be any more effective on you. Your eye was already captured by a particular green-haired swordsman, after all. “I don’t really have anything in mind.”
Sanji looked pleased about that, clasping his hands together around his platter. “Ah, let me guess, then. A bayberry or red currant wine, perhaps? Fruity, tart, full of flavor.” he winked. “A feisty drink for a feisty girl.” 
“Can’t say I’ve tried it, but sure,” you said, the faintest smile on your lips. “I’ll let you know how I like it.” 
Sanji grinned, looking rather satisfied with that, a delighted little smile on his lips. “One red currant wine, then. I’ll have it right out. And would you also like to order a meal, or…” He glanced over at Luffy, presumably referencing your captain’s more-than-outrageous order. “Are you all set?” 
“I think we’re set, thanks,” you assured, and Sanji nodded. He flashed you another bright smile before turning on his heel back off to the kitchen. 
Usopp finally let out the laughter he’d been keeping in, choked sounds emitting from his throat as he thudded his chest with a fist. You rolled your eyes, but it was good-natured, letting Usopp laugh. 
“Well, at least I’m not being singled out,” Nami said with a sigh, and you exchanged a sympathetic glance with her. She patted your hand comfortingly, then scrutinized the water Sanji had gotten her. “At least he didn’t put it in a flute.” 
“Zoro, you’ve got competition!” Usopp called, still laughing from the entire ordeal. You glanced to your side, to where the swordsman sat. Zoro had stiffened sometime during the conversation, jaw clenched and arms wound tightly across his chest. He hadn’t even touched the beer that Sanji had set in front of him, eyes fixed carefully to a spot beside Luffy’s head and refusing to look over at you. 
“He’s a waiter,” Zoro said crisply. “He buses tables for a living.” With that, he grabbed his bottle, popping the tab and taking a swig. 
“I don’t know, man, did you see the way he took down those pirates?” Usopp turned to you, all excited again. “Oh, you missed this whole thing! Two pirates were fighting over a seat or something, and Sanji just demolished both of them! You would’ve loved it.” 
“He is a really good fighter,” Luffy agreed. Their words did nothing but seem to annoy Zoro further. 
“Can we not talk about the restaurant personnel? Surely you can think of more interesting topics of conversation.” His tone was sharp, and all icy, and you inched your hand closer to his leg to tap his thigh in question. He glanced down at your touch, but didn’t deign to say anything else. He just picked up his beer again, nursing it while the rest of the crew continued on with their conversation. 
Despite Luffy changing the subject, Zoro didn’t speak, and you kept peeking glances over at him in concern. Your feelings for him had just continued developing ever since Syrup Village, although neither of you had reasonably talked about the closet incident since it’d happened. What with the reveal of Kuro and the escape from the marines and all, there hadn’t exactly been time to. But you’d been on good terms, and the actions he made around you—pressing a hand to your waist as you moved past him, turning towards you first mid-conversation, shoving you down when the marines had fired their first cannon at the Going Merry. 
Before you could whisper to him and question what his silence was about, though, Sanji reappeared, carrying two platters filled to the brim with plates. They were laden with different types of meat and vegetables, sauces glinting under the light and hot steam still billowing. 
He set the dishes on the table, somehow managing to arrange them so they all fit on the countertop. Sanji set down the last plate then turned to you, placing a glass and a bottle of dark crimson wine on the table in front of you. He had to lean over Zoro to reach, and Zoro flinched, but still didn’t say anything as Sanji uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass. 
“Tell me what you think,” he said, all smiles again. “I’ll be embarrassed if it isn’t to your liking.”
You picked the glass up, swirling it carefully inside the glass before leaning down into the cup to take in a full sniff. You tilted your head back to take a small sip, moving the liquid around your mouth to fully savor the flavor before finally swallowing. The wine was sweet, light rather than rich with a delicate tartness that burst on your tongue. You glanced up just to see a giant grin had stretched up Sanji’s mouth, brightening his face up considerably. 
“What?” you asked. 
“Not often do I see a patron who knows how to taste wine properly,” Sanji answered with a little duck of his head. “A lady of class, I see. How do you like it?” 
“Not too strong. I like the tartness,” you answered. “A good recommendation. Thank you.” 
Sanji gave you a little bow, hand flourishing to the side as he dipped his head. “I live to serve.” 
“Yeah, well, why don’t you serve me another beer?” Zoro said abruptly. Usopp coughed, and you could see Nami elbow him out of your peripheral vision. Luffy just looked confused. 
Sanji’s face fell almost immediately after Zoro had spoken, his eyes flickering away from yours. “Of course. I’ll be right back,” he said, a tight smile at his lips. He ducked out of the booth, and Zoro let out an irritated noise, tongue flicking against from the roof of his mouth. 
Usopp snorted, fully this time, and you turned to glance over at him—he and Nami were both hiding their gazes, though you could see smiles cracked along their lips. 
Zoro glared at them. “Shut it.” 
“Not saying anything!” Usopp said, though he half-hid behind Luffy like Zoro was going to lunge over the table to get to him. That didn’t seem… entirely unlikely, actually; Zoro’s right hand rested firmly on the handle of one of his swords, fingers ready to pull the blade at any second. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to say something. But not in front of everyone else. It wouldn’t be appropriate, you decided. 
Eventually your meal wound down to an end. Zoro got less and less tense throughout it, though you were fairly certain that was due to the drinks he was having rather than any actual reassurance. Sanji, thankfully, came back with the bill in the middle of a conversation you really didn’t want to think about—Luffy and his marine grandfather was not something your mind wanted to dwell on—only for him to disappear again. 
Just moments later, a man with a braided mustache came storming out of the kitchen. Luffy did some more of his Luffy nonsense, and, honestly—you were getting too tired about all of this to pay any close attention. You spared a glance over at Zoro again. His face was as blank as ever.  
“Okay,” Usopp said slowly, a few delayed seconds after who’d undoubtedly been the head chef yanked Luffy out of his seat. “I’m ready to check out whatever’s outside. Let’s go.” 
“What about Luffy?” you asked, perplexed. 
“He’ll find his way out of that,” Nami said with a sigh. She stood up, knocking back the rest of her drink. Since she wasn’t exactly wrong, you got up, glancing over your shoulder at the last of the group that remained seated. “Zoro?” 
Zoro was staring into his now-empty bottle of beer. He still seemed off, the line of his mouth creased downwards, jaw set tight. “Yeah,” he said finally, standing to his full height and slipping out of the booth. He offered you a hand, helping you down from your seat, but said nothing more. 
The four of you headed out to the mouth of the Baratie fish, which boasted a bar decorated with neon lights. You found a place to sit by the fish’s bottom lip, and you turned in your seat, staring out at the sea. The water was dark with the night, peaceful ripples moving across the water that sent shimmering waves across the blue. 
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Usopp said. “Come, Nami?” 
“Huh?” Nami glanced up, and you turned to watch the exchange. “Oh, I’m okay, Usopp. Thanks, though.” 
“No,” Usopp insisted, a smile still pasted on his face as he jerked his head, not very discreetly, in your and Zoro’s direction. Nami seemed to realize, then, eyes going wide before she got up from her seat. 
“Actually, on second thought, I’ll join you,” she said, far smoother than Usopp had been. “God knows you don’t have any money to pay for a drink.”
She breezed past him, ignoring the offended gape Usopp left in her wake before he was scrambling to follow her. You turned your attention towards Zoro—he was lounging in the seat across from you, one hand on his swords with his legs crossed. “Hi,” you said carefully. 
He stiffened. “Hey.” 
You pursed your lips, mulling over the ways to go about the conversation before ultimately deciding to spit it out. “What’s wrong?” At his raised brow, you were prompted to continue— “During dinner. You were acting weird.”
Zoro shook his head, dropping his gaze from yours. You could see the faintest trace of freckles spattered along his cheeks, the yellow glow from the lanterns reflecting off his skin. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… the waiter.”
“The waiter,” you repeated. Zoro shifted, legs uncrossing and hand tightening around his swords again. His voice was low the next time he spoke, and you could barely hear him, having to lean forward to catch all of his words.
“He was flirting with you.” 
Your breath hitched, but you tried to keep your tone casual. “He was flirting with Nami too,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Zoro still wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring out into the East Blue behind you. 
“That’s different.” Zoro’s eyes finally lifted, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as you met eyes. You shivered, gooseflesh suddenly prickling up everywhere on your skin—the back of your neck, up your spine, down your arms and legs. “I don’t like Nami.” 
You tilted your head to the side, meeting his gaze. The words sent a little rush through you; a rush you got practically every time Zoro looked in your direction, actually, which was only a little bit annoying. The amount of influence a man you’d known for, comparatively, not that long had over you had you rolling your eyes all the time, but… you trusted Zoro at this point, as uncooperative as he and Nami had been throughout your entire journey. 
“You’re jealous of a waiter.” 
“Don’t—” Zoro sighed. “Don’t put it like that.” 
“But it’s true. You’re jealous of a waiter,” you said, unblinking. Zoro rolled his eyes, teeth resting along his lower lip in an almost-bite. You snickered, tone sloping upwards to become more teasing, almost sarcastic. “How the mighty have fallen. From me practically begging you to say I looked nice in a dress to this.” 
“Okay, that’s enough,” Zoro said, uncrossing his legs to lean over and press his hand over your mouth. You laughed, surprised, as he leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the reaction. “Not another word.” 
He removed his hand, giving you a look. You betrayed his trust almost immediately. “Of a waiter.” 
“Do you want me to put the hand back?” Zoro threatened, but you were full-on laughing by now, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. The sounds escaped from your mouth, ringing out in soft, lively hiccups. He shook his head, hand falling to his side as he watched you, a ghost of a smile tugging up the side of his mouth. 
“Sorry, Ro,” you said, unable to suppress your grin even as your laughter died off. “It’s a little funny, you have to admit.” 
“I’d like to hear you talk if someone was flirting with me,” Zoro muttered, so quiet you could barely hear. You had to stifle another laugh. 
“Okay, well, unlike you, I don’t get territorial over people I haven’t even talked about my relationship with, but I appreciate it.” You nudged him. “It’s kinda cute.”
Zoro seemed lost in the first half of your sentence, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. For a moment, you were worried that the closet had been a one-time thing—but no, he’d mentioned just earlier that he liked you, so clearly something else was the matter. 
Your worries were answered in just another moment. “...We’re supposed to talk about our relationship?”
“Zoro.” You gave him a look of disbelief, forced to suppress another laugh, though this time it was out of incredulity. “Yes. Have you ever dated anyone before?” 
Zoro made a face at that. “Keeping that to myself, thanks.” He dropped his chin, glancing down at where you were, still leaning over you so you were forced to crane your neck to stare up at him. He tilted his head to the side. “So what kind of talking are we supposed to be doing?” 
“You know, the establishment of being exclusive; a cementation of our feelings; what the relationship entails; where we want it to go…” You paused, watching as his eyes flickered down your face. Your words were going in one ear and out the other. “You’re not listening at all, huh.” 
“Not really,” Zoro said, not sounding very apologetic about it. His free hand came to cup the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up just so. “Is the talking really that necessary?” 
You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Eventually.” 
“Eventually,” he repeated, stretching out the syllables of the word as he quoted you. “So we can do it another day.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “What were you thinking?”
Zoro was slotting his lips over yours before you could say another word, his fingers digging into the hinge of your jaw to allow him better access. You smiled into the kiss, lips curling upwards and open to let him lick into your mouth. 
It wasn’t too risqué, but Zoro took your breath away all the same, an appreciative murmur low in his throat as he kissed you. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging him insistently downwards so you could get a better angle at his mouth, sucking gently at his lower lip. He nearly stumbled, losing his center of gravity before steadying himself, one hand coming to rest on your ribcage as the kiss deepened. 
“Guys!” Usopp’s voice came somewhere from the right, high-pitched and excessively scandalized. You felt Zoro scoff into your mouth.
“You realize you’re in public, right?” Nami deadpanned, plopping down in the seat next to you. You nudged Zoro’s head away, his hand still on your jaw, half-craned over your figure. Nami looked unimpressed, eyes flickering from Zoro to you and back again. “Get a room. Go back to the Going Merry for all I care.” She extended a hand, placing a mug of beer on the table before you before handing you a matching one. “I got you drinks. You’re welcome.” 
“Thanks,” you said, leaning up to press one final kiss on Zoro’s lips before turning to take the glass Nami had outstretched. Usopp groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and lifting a giant cup of something with the other. It was so big you wondered how he’d even been able to carry it. You eyed him. “You’re going to pass out drinking that.” 
Usopp made a face at you. You just laughed. 
“Sorted out your issues with the waiter, then?” Nami asked, turning to fix a knowing look on Zoro. He rolled his eyes, effortless as ever as he settled back down into his seat. 
“Still don’t like the waiter.” 
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, and Zoro scoffed, picking up the mug Nami had gotten him. You could see the smile behind the glass rim, though, even as he clearly tried to hide it, and matched it with one of your own. 
Zoro ducked his head to smile into his beer. Usopp made a gagging sound. “God,” Nami muttered, but their criticisms might as well have been deaf to your ears by then. 
All you could see was Zoro. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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homosubtext · 2 years
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hi i am promoting my fic(s) bc i have had so much fun writing them and i have so many ideas for more that will be coming soon. read it if you’d like to <3
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months
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Wing Grooming Part 2
lucifer x gn reader smut
thank you to everyone who liked the last one i didn’t expect it to be as well received as it was eee got me all giddy 🙈 i felt like it was only fair bust out a continuation, hopefully you enjoy this one as well and it’s to your liking. also i have some Alastor, Vox n Adam stuff drafted i may end up finishing since i don’t feel as shit at writing lmao anywayyy thanks again kiss kiss
warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, GN body i’m pretty sure-no language specific anatomy (e.g clit, breasts, pussy), but penatration is what’s written, begging from both parties, possibly switch lucifer, dom reader, breeding kink?, mating press (don’t quote me), no Y/N, written on mobile and once again no mention of or alluding to bodytype/hairtype/or skin colour enjoy :)
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"I think if we continue that, type of grooming, I won't be able to control myself." Although still shy about his admission his eyes were half lidded and his smile sly. You felt fire explode in your stomach all innocence out the window as your mind settled on one thought. You were gonna bang your friends divorced dad.
Smiling at the king you cautiously and slowly took his hand. “I think you should just relax and enjoy. Whatever happens, i’m more than willing to serve the king.” You lead him back to a seated position feeling his body slightly tremble as you spoke to him so softly. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Lucifer asked genuinely, worried he may have been crossing the line or putting you in a position which made it hard for you to say no. Now back in the prior position with you behind him, his wings splayed lazily behind him. You thought up your reply. “Lucifer, as much as i appreciate your concern, I’ve been stopping myself from drooling over you since you arrived,” You began speaking, tugging at his suit jacket colar. “That’s not because your the king either, if that’s what you think.” Jacket shedded your hands caressed the back of his neck and traveled down the centre of his back, to the base of all of his wings. Lucifer cleared his throat attempting to cover up the whimper that slipped past him in such a state.
You had him at your mercy, completely slumped posture relaxed, his legs spread out wide, eyes closed, you kept peaking around to catch glimpses of his gorgeous face. Continuing to do the first task at hand, you combed through his last set of wings, and Lord did the God make them sensitive for sure. Lucifer thought you must’ve been the true devil the way your hands worked only at his wings, meanwhile other areas of his body were becoming far more uncomfortable then his wings originally were. “Are you alright hun?” Lucifer chuckled lowly at that, teeth gritted. “Don’t pretend to be an angel.” Humming in response, you brushed his hair behind his ear while you circled around to join him on the bench. Sat beside him now, his eyes lazily met yours, a smile blessing his beautiful face.
Your stomach tightened with anticipation and want, leaning in slightly just to invade his personal space, you pretended not to notice the hump in his suit pants and dragged your hand from his knee, up to his thigh. Lucifers breath hitched meeting your waiting gaze, it was clear to him you’d brought yourself this far, it was his turn to put in some work. Although he found it extremely difficult with your dilated eyes staring at him expectingly while your thumb traced back and forth just inches below where he really wanted you to touch. Swallowing thick saliva he wrapped three wings around you, tugging your body agasint his effectively gaining a little noise from you. “Please,” He whispered to you body now turned toward in your direction, arm snaking behind your hips nestled between your body and his wings keeping their protective position around you.
You felt hungry for him, pure lust clouding your mind as you looked at his face. It held desperation, need, the way his brows knit together and upward, smile fallen into something that almost appeared pained. Moving your hand from his thigh to cupping his neck you pulled him toward you. The king didn’t stutter swiftly taking action to meet you in the middle. The two of you met with a sloppy kiss that held no real rhythm or direction, it was just the two of you breaking the thick tension by finally devouring eachother. Lucifer was no longer hesitant to give into the want he had, falling into your grasp while simultaneously pulling you as close as possible to him.
Your hand moved from his neck and trailed down the front of his chest and to the hem of his pants. Lucifer groaned into your mouth jerking upward into your hand, smiling agasint his mouth you pulled away causing Lucifer to chase your lips, eyes barely open. “C’mon big boy, lead me to your bed where you can comfortably stretch your wings.” Jumping to his feet he pulled you up with him. “Alright! Say no more!” The king excitedly exclaimed smile returning, snapping his fingers the two of you appeared at the side of his king sized bed.
The teleportation was excessive for the short walk to the bed, but Lucifer was excited, and wanted to show off just slightly. Grabbing him by the vest, you pulled him back into you, quickly falling back into the kiss, like it was natural, your tongues twisting and breath intertwined. Lucifer busied his hands with your hotel uniform, unbuttoning the suit jacket and dragging it off your body. You followed his lead unbuttoning his vest and starting on the last layer of cloth. The two of you smashed against one another once bare, the feeling of lucifers hot skin against you made you moan into him, behind him his wings spasmed with every response he got from you. Your finger nails scrapped gently against his scalp, and you pulled him in impossibly closer by his hair. He nearly came in his pants at your subtle displays of dominance and cared less and less each moment about holding back, grinding his hips into your own he was practically humping you.
Since the two of you stood at the side of the bed, making out, you decided it was enough. With mild force you shoved lucifer back on the bed, causing him to yelp. He got up on his forearms watching you upbutton his pants with hunger in your eyes. “How can i serve you, my King?” Already palming his hard on he threw his head back moaning. “Ugh, fuck- please.” He whimpered looking at you through his lashes as you grasped him with light pressure through his boxers, your other hand coming up beside him avoiding leaning on the wings that laid out relaxed.
Slowly you leaned yourself over him biting your lip with a wicked grin. “Help me with my pants Luci?” You whined dragging your crotch up his thigh. It didn’t take long for Lucifer to snap the buttons off and yank them down from where the sat. You giggled at his urgency, you were being a tease you knew. But you wanted to revel in the sight that you had before you, Lucifer the king of hell, beaded sweat along his forehead, messy hair, wings out fully expanded, face flushed and body ever so responsive to any touch you gave. You loved how hot it made you to have him so vulnerable all for you when it wasn’t likely anyone had seen him this way since Lilith.
“You’re so handsome, my king,” You purred kicking off your pants, a little awkwardly, and tugged at his. A quick ‘off’ left your mouth and it was all it took for the king to arch himself up and kick off his own pants leaving you two in nothing but underwear. You sat on top of his bulge making him toss his head back biting his lip, still propped up so he could glance at your devilish form every now and again. Grinding down on him made him jerk up, eyes meeting yours by reflex as you leaned forward threading your arms through his, and past his wings onto the bed, preparing to teasingly grind on him. “No,” Lucifer whimpered against your lips promptly stopping you from connecting again. “I, i can’t, no more teasing, i need to fuck you.” He switched at the end from a breathless begging to an assertion of sorts, making you smile looking into his eyes you could only imagine how dazed and full of desire your own eyes looked.
It’s not like you, yourself wasn’t barely hanging on by a thread, so without anymore teasing you slid your underwear down and lined yourself up to Lucifer. Precum slid down the length making him slick, his eyes traced your form, enchanted by how sinful you looked above him. You had a coy smile on your face as your inched down onto him. His hands flew to your hips gripping at your flesh as he tried to stop himself from ferociously fucking up into you. The devil knew good and well he could have control, could bring you into a state of fucked out bliss that would outdo any future partners, but he much preferred letting you set him ablaze while he relaxed into your electric touch and natural control. Being at your mercy felt good, and he hadn’t had somebody put such attentive care into the way they touched him up until now. Finally sinking fully down, your back naturally arched, mouth opening with silent bliss as the king filled you up to the brim. Lucifer twitched inside you, his tail finally making an appearance by snaking out from under him and around your stomach.
“Holy shit Lucifer,” You whined needily rocking yourself into him rather than properly riding him. Although Lucifer couldn’t care less, feeling you squeeze him tightly your body heat mingling with his own, the frangrance you wore mixed with the natural scent of your body intoxicating him further, he was in bliss. Falling forward into him, your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand going right back to raking through his hair tugging him back into a sloppy french kiss. Bending his legs Lucifer met your thrusts by fucking upward into you, his wings curling up from their rest on the bed effectively coocooning the two of you together. “Lord Luce, please, fuck. You should let me help you more often,” The sentence you said was more needy moaning then words but it wasn’t unexpected with the way Lucifer had kicked up the game; leaving hickeys and bite marks along your shoulders as his hands gripped and massaged any inch of skin they passed. It was all consuming, not to mention he’d covered you almost entirely with his wings making it so you could only be so far from him, it was like he was trying to keep you as close as possible greedy for everything you had.
Swiftly, lucifer switched positioned lifting you like nothing, and placing you on your back, making it so he had the advantage above you. He wasted no time pressing your legs as far up to your shoulders as they could go, loving that same dazed look in your eyes that he had moments ago sinking himself into you at a new angle. It swelled his chest with pride seeing he had the same effect on you as you had on him. Now it was his turn to have a coy smile, looking down at you as you moaned in an octave he hasn’t ever heard from you before. Sandwhiching you down, he caged you with his arms and wings fully blanketing you with himself. You looked up as he kept a slow shallow pace fucking in and out of you. “Ready to feel what heaven has to offer, my sovereign.” Lucifer chuckled darkly lust taking control at your bodys willingness to mold to him and the position he wanted. You kept moaning shamelessly as he tortured you with teasing thrusts, eyes watching him closely like he was all you knew. Finally he amped up the pace, thrusting into you so hard your body jolted back. “Shit Lucifer.” You moaned biting your lip watching as he drank up the sight of you. “Mh you’re so sweet, next time, I’ll have to taste you,” He gritted out, fucking into you rapidly his wings still protectively covering you, keeping eyes closed, and leaning his sweaty forehead against your own.
“Oh-fuck me i’m gonna cum,” You squealed suddenly being hit by waves of pleasure when he hit that spot inside you. Lucifer groaned biting your shoulder, skin slapping lewdly as he jack hammered himself into you, chasing his quick rising orgasm. You mewled unabled to do anything but grip at his hair and back, toes clenching as your wrapped them as tight as possible around him. “Don’t pull out i need it,” You cried out throwing your head back in euphoria, it was almost there but you couldn’t fully cum yet and it was torture.
That was until Lucifer lost the last of his control, horns expanding eyes a dark glowing red. He growled, actually growled something that otherwise would’ve been demonically frightening and pulled you into another firey kiss. This time though it was passionate, like trying to convey through this moment, that he didn’t view this as a one off hook up. He pulled away from the kiss his lips inches away from your own as he moaned, clenching his teeth. “I wantcha to be mine, only.” He stated lowly, pace never faltering as he spoke, you whined eyes pinched close holding on for him. “Say yes,” He demanded rather darkly before pecking you on the lips, you clenched around him at that feeling yourself about to snap. “Yes, i’m yours only,” You whined drawn out as you felt yourself coming undone, bringing you into another kiss, he put all his weight on top of you the bed creaking and possibly sliding against the floor as he fucked you. Once you screamed out his name, crying for him to fuck you, pleading to fill you fully, he was done for. Your name repeatedly fell from his lips as he cried as well gasping and panting as he pumped himself and his seed deeply inside of you, which only dragged out your orgasm longer.
The way you two finished was pornographic and the room was filled with the scent of sex. Lucifer slumped on top of you, the two of you panting violently, entangled in eachother and not in a rush to move away. You brought your hand up playing with his hair as he laid on you. “Stay with me tonight,” He started to say hushed seemingly afraid you’d now reject him. “I don’t want to be alone.” He finished quietly, you hummed continuing to play with his blonde locks, now sticky with sweat. “Of course Luce, I don’t want and never intended to leave you.”
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kiss-me-cill-me · 2 months
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hear me out:) reader wants to try vanilla sex with Dr.Crane since he always has some kind of twist or experiment when it came down to it. And he ends up doing her against the wall and it’s just really intimate. love your works, and it’s totally fine if this isn’t something you would write🤗
I love a challenge haha ;) And I always enjoy getting to explore different sides of a character. While he might not be nice in most of my fics, I do think that Crane has a sweet side. Somewhere in there lmao. Thank you for requesting, anon!
V. planifolia
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Your boyfriend comes home unexpectedly early, and you take the opportunity to try something new.
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of bondage, mentions of edging, slight overstim, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint, dare I say... some domestic fluff? (in MY Jonathan Crane?!), established boyfriend/girlfriend relationship
A/N: The biggest mental hurdle I had to overcome in writing this was referring to him as "Jonathan" instead of "Crane" lmao. He's just always Crane in my head. And while things are pretty vanilla, he's still sassy, because... well, it is me writing him lol
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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You were so used to your boyfriend coming home late that it was almost a surprise when he showed up just thirty minutes after you'd finished dinner.
“Jonathan?” you called, cautiously getting up from the couch to investigate.
You'd heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, so logic dictated that it couldn't have been an intruder. But it was barely seven o’clock, and Jonathan didn't usually get home until after you were already in bed. He worked long hours; he always had. So you were shocked to see him standing there in the entryway, setting down his briefcase as he closed the door behind him.
“Baby? What are you doing home early?”
At the sound of your voice, he looked up. A small smile fluttered over his face; his eyes pale and tired, until they caught a glimpse of you. There was that mischievous little spark that you loved.
“Sorry to startle you,” he replied. “I can leave if you'd like.”
He was joking, and you laughed a little as your arms wrapped around his waist. Your bodies found each other easily, and you felt yourself sink against him in that comfortable way that you knew so well.
“No way - you're not getting away from me that easily,” you teased.
Your lips brushed against his, and Jonathan pulled you in closer until you were kissing him. As you sighed happily, you realized that it had been - approximately - forever since the last time you'd had an evening alone with him. You pulled away and looked back at him softly; gentle concern tinting your eyes.
“I'm happy you're home, but is everything okay?” you asked. “You really are back early.”
“Everything’s fine,” he assured you.
Jonathan gave you one more squeeze before he gently broke the hug, trailing off in the direction of the living room. You followed, a small skip already creeping into your step. Your smile threatened to break out at any moment. It was so good to have him home.
You watched from the doorway as Jonathan dropped heavily onto the couch, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling as he sat. His jacket was already thrown over the back of a chair, and he rolled up his shirtsleeves, not watching what he was doing.
“I know that I haven't been home much,” he continued. His voice seemed to fill the room, making the small space feel even more intimate. “Work has been eating me alive.”
“I hope not literally,” you joked.
Though you could never be sure. Some of the patients he worked with at Arkham were… unique, to say the least.
“Not yet.”
He lifted his head to look over at you, briefly, before reclining again and throwing an arm over his face. Even with his eyes shielded, you could still feel the lingering, icy cold rush of his gaze. You walked over and knelt at his feet, helping him to remove his shoes.
As you tugged at the laces, you felt a surge of devotion wash over you. Jonathan always worked hard. Even though, yes, he wasn't around much during the week, he made sure to provide for you. In fact, you were sure that was all part of the reason why he so often worked late. 
Once his shoes were off, you let your soft fingers drift up his leg, brushing against the fabric of his trousers.
“Did you have dinner? Do you want something to eat?”
“Maybe later,” Jonathan replied, as he took hold of your wrist.
Gently, he pulled you until you were standing up, and then until you were straddling him, your knees pressed into his sides.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” you asked, settling into his lap.
As you spoke, your hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Kneading into his tension, you could feel as his arms relaxed under your touch. 
“I just want to spend time with you.”
His fingers trailed over your thigh, and you knew instantly what he meant.
“Oh, so that's why you're home early,” you teased.
You leaned in to kiss him again, this time slipping a finger to hook under the knot of his tie, pulling him closer to you. His tongue brushed against yours, and it sent an electric jolt down your spine.
“Aren't I allowed to miss you?” he teased back.
You felt your cheeks heat up. Both of you knew very well that Jonathan was always the one in charge in the bedroom, and hearing him talk as if you were the one who imposed rules on him made you feel flustered.
“You have no idea,” he continued, “how hard it is to work late, when all I can think about is how you’re here all alone. Waiting up for me. You've been good though, right? Haven't been touching yourself without me?”
The heat on your cheeks deepened, traveling all the way down to your core. 
“O-of course not,” you replied, cursing the way your voice caught in your throat. It was just like him to somehow have you wrapped fully around his finger less than five seconds in. “You know I wouldn't.”
Jonathan hummed, and pushed your hips up and off of his lap as he brought a hand down to brush softly over your clit. You jumped, even feeling him through all your clothing, and your knuckles stretched tightly over his shoulders. 
“Seems like you're telling the truth…”
And you were. You melted into his touch as Jonathan swirled his fingers against you, pressing them roughly. After going without for so long, every nerve felt as if it was on fire in between your legs.
“Ohh…”
Your soft sigh earned you more pressure from Jonathan; his fingers nearly digging into your clothed cunt. You rocked your hips, desperately throwing your head back as you held onto his shoulders for support.
“Stop,” he ordered.
“Mmmmmph.”
Your petulant whine filled the room, and your frustration only grew as Jonathan took his hand away. His command had been gentle, but you were so needy that it felt like torture.
Swiftly, Jonathan stood up and took you with him. Still holding onto your hips for support, he made sure your feet were on the ground before stepping forward. He backed you up with him, until your shoulder blades hit the far wall.
“I really have been away for too long, haven't I?” he breathed, filling your mouth with the taste of anticipation.
“It's okay… I know you're busy at work.”
“You're too nice,” Jonathan sighed. “I want to hear just how badly you’ve missed me.”
Almost instantly, he got what he wanted as you cried out, shocked by the way his leg pushed eagerly between yours. He pressed harder, still looming over you.
“That's better.”
“Jonathan-”
“Want me to tie you up like I did last time?” he interrupted. “Or do you want to try something new?”
It was impossible to miss the hint of excitement in his deep voice. You moaned as he dragged your hips down even harder, pressing your bodies together with an intensity that was almost too much.
“I- was thinking it might be nice to try something a bit different,” you answered, your voice slightly fragmented as he unbuttoned your pants.
“Mmm. You have any ideas?”
You took a deep breath. What you had in mind probably wasn't the same as whatever twisted idea was running through Jonathan’s head. It wasn't that you didn't like experimenting. It was just… you didn't like doing it all the time. 
“I was thinking… what if we just took things slow?” you ventured.
“What? Like you want me to edge you?”
“No, not… exactly like that.”
It was getting harder to articulate, as Jonathan’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as he moved up toward your jaw.
“Like what, then?” he whispered wickedly, right in your ear.
“Like… what if we were just kinda… gentle?”
Jonathan pulled back to look at you, the slight hint of a frown on his lips.
“But you like when I'm rough with you.”
“I do!” you rushed to agree. “It’s just that… sometimes I want you to be slow and sensual.”
Your arms inched up to hook round his neck, and you pulled him in for a soft kiss, trying to show him what you wanted. Jonathan was stiff at first, but eventually he melted into the slow movement of your lips.
When the kiss broke, Jonathan took a step back, removing his thigh from between your legs. He pushed his hands under your waistband and started to, very slowly, shove the fabric down over your hips.
“We can try that,” he relented. Then added with a mischievous wink, “But if you get bored… just let me know.”
You hummed as his hands slid over your curves, dragging your pants down with them. Jonathan never did anything halfheartedly, and if you wanted it slow, then that was exactly how he would give it to you. Even if it did drive you crazy in the process.
Your slacks fell, pooling below you on the hard floor. Jonathan paused for a moment, before planting a kiss on the exposed skin below where your blouse had started to fall away. He pushed back your collar, to kiss more and then send a shiver right after, as he breathed over the wetness that had been left behind by his mouth.
He stood up straight, pressing an airy kiss to your forehead as his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties.
“Am I doing it how you want me to, darling?” he asked.
You felt yourself swoon again. You weren't used to him following your lead quite like this, but you liked it. A lot.
As was clearly evidenced by the wet spot that had started to seep through the fabric that Jonathan was toying with. He found the trace of your arousal easily enough, and pressed two of his fingers into the damp cotton.
“Nevermind. I have my answer.”
Slipping your already-ruined panties to the side, Jonathan brushed his fingers over your core before bringing them up to your clit. Swirling with just the right kind of pressure, he dragged a soft moan from your lips.
“Oh my god,” you sighed. “Keep going.”
He kissed you, slowly but sinfully, swallowing all of your breathy sighs and words of admiration as they slipped out. It was impossible to contain them, especially when you started to feel his own arousal as it pressed up against your hip, seeming to grow more impatient the harder he got.
“Jonathan- so close,” you whined, breathless already.
“You sure you don't want me to edge you?” he asked, maybe a little hopefully.
“No - please, let me come.”
The pressure was already building. Soon, neither of you would have any choice in the matter. You just had to get him to keep going, long enough for you to push past the point of no return.
“Well, if you're asking so nicely…”
Another searing kiss sealed your fate, and you scrambled to hang onto Jonathan as you felt yourself start to crumble.
He held you, still pressed firm against the wall, and you heard a deep chuckle resound from his throat.
“Good to know even this kind of stuff makes you a mess,” Jonathan droned. “Or maybe you're just so used to me doing everything I want to you, that this actually counts as variety now.”
You were barely listening to him; still too distracted by the delightfully sore feeling that seemed to permeate your whole body.
What you did notice was him slipping your panties the rest of the way off, letting them fall at your feet before gently guiding you to step out of them. With that done, he turned his attention to your blouse, delicately removing it and then tossing it to the side.
Your hands came up clumsily to paw at the buttons on his shirt, trying in vain to release them. Jonathan saw you were struggling, and gave you a small, knowing smile.
“Let me help, darling. It seems like you're having some trouble.”
You moved your hands to let Jonathan take over. He loosened his tie easily, and popped three of his buttons. But, quickly, he lost interest, and instead moved to unzip his pants.
When he finally sprang free, his cock hit your still-throbbing clit.
“Ah!” you hissed.
“Still sensitive?” Jonathan asked, rubbing himself leisurely against you.
Your only response was a whimper, but that was answer enough. Jonathan’s lips curled into a wicked smile, as he hovered close to your ear.
“Hold still,” he teased, reaching down to line himself up.
You squirmed, fighting within yourself as half of you wanted to scream at the sensation while the rest of you, conversely, needed to grind down harder. Every contact made you jump, and as he pressed in, you saw stars.
“Jonathan…”
You had expected him to start moving, but instead he held off. Staying right where he was, Jonathan paused so that you could feel just how completely he filled you. 
“Everything okay?” he asked, sickly sweet voice dripping into your ears.
“Fuck,” you replied.
He laughed.
“You’ve lost quite a bit of your usual eloquence.” He started to drag himself out. “But okay. Since you asked nicely again…”
As he pressed back in, slow but rough, you couldn’t help letting out an undignified sound. Jonathan smirked.
When he did it again, your whole body shifted, pressed up by the force of his thrust. Your head rolled back, hitting the wall lightly before lolling off to the side. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighed.
As he spoke, he reached down to hook one of your legs up and over his waist. The new angle caused you to let out another choked whine, which earned you an even harder thrust.
“Maybe we should do this more often. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you like this.”
You could only imagine how you must have looked. Mouth hanging open and eyes half-shut, rolling back into your head from the pleasure as your chest heaved and your knees gave out. Jonathan smoothed a thumb over the edge of your jaw.
“Even though I can’t stop thinking about all of the other things I’d like to do to you,” he added, punctuating the sentiment with his hips. You swore you felt him shudder.
Kissing your suddenly-warm neck, Jonathan thrust into you again. Your hips snapped back weakly to meet him, and you heard yourself start to moan. You held onto him tighter, dragging your nails down his arms.
“I thought you wanted to be gentle?” he teased.
He hadn't been going very fast, but now he slowed down entirely. For a moment, the two of you stood, face to face, your breath and his in a sweltering mix, pooling out in the scant space between you.
Jonathan’s forehead came to rest against yours, and you looked up into the blur of his eyes. Two hazy pools of blue ice that were filling your vision completely.
“Want me to speed up?”
“No, this is nice,” you replied. A bit dreamily as your senses took time to adjust. Your skin prickled at his touch as he brushed a hand lazily up your arm.
“I can be slow then,” he laughed. “But it might be too hard if you keep looking at me like that.”
“How should I look at you, hm?” you teased.
“Like you’re pretending you don't want to be turned around with your wrists pinned up against the wall,” he teased back.
He pressed into you, exploring how deep he could go before you started writhing against him. Your leg on his waist tightened, pulling him in and holding him firmly in place for a kiss. 
You knew he might take some convincing, but you were prepared to take all night to show Jonathan just how good things could be, after practicing a little patience.
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toxicanonymity · 7 months
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he's only human
1.1k, raider!joel x f!reader, OC Carter x himself
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kinktober-ish special? mild voyeurism w/ a seasonal flare 🎃 Raider Master | About Raider Carter SUMMARY: PWP with inner conflict. Joel POV as he goes down on you, then Joel's right-hand man Carter hears/sees a glimpse of you and Joel for the nth time and has intrusive thots when he jacks off.  A/N: Overlaps with the end of ✨ hunger, starts with Joel POV and shifts to Carter POV. This one goes out to @romanarose, charter member of the Carter fan club - feels like so long ago lmao. @toxicfics for notifications. WARNINGS: oral f receiving (from Joel), brief p in V (Joel), mild voyeurism then jacking off (Carter), mild angst - intrusive thots.
Joel’s had his head between your legs before, but not like this. Not intentionally, not because he craved it.  Not for his pleasure or yours. Not with his hand wrapped around his cock. God damn, it’s paradise, he’s like a starved animal.  You taste like home.  He’s dreamed about it– in a cozy log cabin, he had you laid out on a sheepskin rug by a fireplace and just devoured you without a care in the world. Then he woke up and remembered not to be that happy.  Now that he’s let himself have this, he can’t physically get enough.
He opens his mouth wide, tonguing you hard, mapping and claiming every crevasse of you, thirstily taking every drop of you he can find, nosing your clit, kissing it, sucking, thumbing it as his tongue gathers slick from your entrance again and he palms your breast. There’s nothing else in the world right now. His world is between your thighs.
“Joel,” you whimper. His cock twitches dangerously close to climax and he stops moving his hand. 
“I want it,” you beg. God damn, it’s the prettiest sound. 
Joel pries his mouth off your cunt and catches his breath. 
—Carter—-
Carter comes up the hill and sees the fire roaring with two big pots of water. The dog growls quietly at him, but quickly goes back to working on — is that a duck head?  Carter walks up to the fire and peeks into the pots—hot damn, a duck in each. As he approaches the trailer door, he’s probably a little quieter than he needs to be.  He hears you and Joel both moaning.  Joel’s moans are muffled, and yours are unrestrained. Carter’s cock twitches when he realizes what Joel’s doing. Blood rises to his cheeks and he swallows, but doesn’t walk away just yet. 
“Ain’t done,” Joel growls and Carter’s heart jumps, thinking Joel’s addressing him. It wouldn’t be the first time Joel kept going with Carter right there. Certainly not the first time in earshot. But the first time doing this. Carter could look if he wanted to right now, but he doesn’t, not even when you completely unravel as you moan Joel’s name. He can picture you writhing in bliss, even if he doesn’t want to. 
Shit. Carter adjusts himself.  He should go. As he turns to leave, it’s a quick, involuntary glance he takes. A split second but it sears the backs of his eyelids.  Your spine is arched, nipples jutting toward the ceiling as Joel pushes his length into you. Carter’s heart races and he doesn’t linger. As he begins to walk away, Joel sighs, “ohhh, fuck.”
Carter’s quickly gotten hard, too hard. This is too much, it’s not gonna go away. He shouldn’t let himself get like this, too easy to turn on. He hasn’t relieved himself in too long. The old magazines are so faded and wrinkled by now, they just remind him of the outbreak. He thinks about how all the models are probably dead, the men and the women. His mind sometimes drifts to you, he can’t help it.
Alright, he’s got to do this quick. The woods, the edge of the woods. Like he’s just taking a leak. Carter palms his hard cock over his pants on his way to the forest. This damn dog better not snitch on him after Carter kept his mouth shut earlier. 
When he reaches the woods, he urgently undoes his pants, takes his cock out of his boxers, and spits in his hand. He sighs when he wraps his hand around it.  He tries with all his might to pry his thoughts away from what he saw, but he keeps coming back to different scenes of you and Joel. He really can’t really help it, it’s the only sexual content he’s seen in years that doesn’t depress him, and Joel isn’t shy about it at all. He knows Carter would never do anything. If Joel knew some of Carter’s thoughts, though. . . 
He tries to think about an ex-girlfriend, but he thinks of you in Joel’s lap. He thinks about the last girl who sucked him off, but he feels ashamed, he shouldn’t have let her, she was desperate. He thinks about you in Joel's lap again. Carter thinks about you in his own lap—no, fuck no, he squints his eyes shut and shakes his head trying to force the thought away. He thinks about Halle Berry in James Bond, she wasJoel's favorite Bond girl too.  Carter thinks about you writhing under Joel right now–NO! 
He thinks about the goddamn preview of Jessica Biel in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003, with her low rise jeans and tank top that never got to grace the big screen--he's tried to construct this movie from scratch in his mind on long treks. He thinks about Jessica Biel cresting the hill begging him for help, nipples poking through that tank top, raising his rifle, looking for Leatherface, Jessica Biel's jeans riding so low, but somehow still hugging her body. Then he thinks about your body, and Joel grabbing your ass, and god damn it, he tries to think about nothing at all. 
He focuses on his cock. He spits on it again. His eyes follow the veins as his hand glides along his light tan shaft. He’s blessed, he knows it.  He moves his hand faster, cups his balls with the other hand. He pumps his stiff shaft, closing his fist over the pink head. It's a nice dick. Maybe he’ll have someone to give it to one day. He thumbs the precum at his tip.
He thinks about you sitting on Joel’s cock in the van that day you ran, only a foot away, the way the sex smelled, he pictures Jessica Biel cresting the hill again for a split second then remembers Joel is splitting you open on the table right now, just right over there, he can still see it, he can hear it, and you’re probably falling apart right about now–oh shit–no, fuck, uughhhhhhghhh—his cock begins to pulse. He angles it onto the leaves in front of him. “Ahhhhhh,” he sighs as quietly as he can as he empties himself.  He feels a rush of guilt. 
He can so vividly picture the barrel of Joel’s gun right between his eyes right now. More vividly than what he just saw in real life. Carter would never, ever do anything. Honest to God, he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t. It’s just that he’s only human, and you’re there, and sometimes it feels like Joel can’t go even a few minutes without touching you in places that shouldn’t cross Carter’s mind–your thighs, your ass. Joel makes sure everyone sees you’re his, and sometimes that just. .. .does something.
You are Joel’s. Carter loves you and Joel together even if you make Joel a little crazy, even if it’s caused more friendly fire than Carter ever thought he’d clean up. You make Joel a little crazy, but you also make him a little better. You’re Joel’s, that’s how it should be.  But you’re also a pretty girl, who makes pretty sounds, and that’s hard to ignore sometimes. 
-------
Thank you so much for reading! I was writing the next part of raider with a brief turn in Carter POV and my fingers slipped.
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peachdues · 3 days
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y’all want a little sneak peek of some soft Compass content?
Note that this scene will not be included in Part I, but will be featured in a later installment, should I continue the series.
CW: mention of robbery • injury • gang member!Sanemi • protective Sanemi • slight skip between scenes because this is just a teaser lmao
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Your face pales as he thunders toward you. “Sanemi, wait — it’s not that bad —“
But he doesn’t listen; not as he reaches for you, his hands cupping your jaw, trapping you in place. His eyes are wild as he scrutinizes your face, hands tilting your head every direction, assessing.
His eyes run first over the cut on your lip before settling on the bruise forming along your cheek. At the first glimpse of the faint swelling along your cheekbone, his frantic, angry concern melts into something colder; more frightening.
Murderous.
Your fingers wrap around his wrists as he begins to tremble. “Sanemi,” you say lowly, urgent. “Sanemi, I’m okay — it was just a robbery —“
“Just a robbery?” His voice is hard and unforgiving. “Just a fuckin’ robbery?”
“I’m going back to headquarters,” Iguro says quietly, eager to distance himself from the pair. Without another word, Sanemi’s fellow hashira retreats to the back of the store and slips out of the service entrance.
Sanemi makes a mental note to thank him later. His hands remain on your face, his finger gingerly wiping away the smudge of blood where it’s dried on your lip. “What were they after?”
“Just the cash in the register,” you wince. “They were just some petty thieves —“
“Give me names and I’ll handle it.”
“It’s not like they identified themselves,” you say, exasperated. “And I definitely wasn’t about to ask.”
“Descriptions, then,” Sanemi says through clenched teeth as he leads you through the back exit of the store, arm latched firmly around your waist, guiding you to where he’d unceremoniously propped his motorcycle against the alley wall.
“Get on the bike,” and because Sanemi can see you hesitate, can see the protest building on your tongue, he sharply adds, “Now.” He reaches for a spare helmet and shoves it toward you.
You can’t help it. The moment you spy his arm lifting to push the helmet down over your head, you flinch. Hard.
All at once, Sanemi’s panicked anger winks out like a star. His arm drops limply to his side. He does not reach for you again.
He murmurs your name and finally, you look to him, eyes full of guilt that matches his own.
“I would put a bullet in my head before I ever raised a hand to you.”
You nod, mortified. “I know,” you whisper. “I know that.”
And you do. If there was one certainty in this — this thing between you, it was that Sanemi could not hurt you. No matter how angry, no matter how frantic he was, all that fell away the moment you were within his reach.
His voice is gentle, so very gentle as he asks, “Can I touch you?”
You nod and he folds you between his arms. His lips press gently against your forehead and then he breaks away, his hand cradling your face.
———-
You shouldn’t be surprised at the soft knock at your bathroom door; that he’d heard you pitiful attempts to stifle your sobs behind your hand and under the spray of the shower head.
A rush of cool air breaks up some of the steamy humidity of the bathroom. Sanemi softly calls your name. “Can I come in?”
You squeak out a soft yes, your eyes squeezing shut as your tears escape down your cheeks, mixing in with the shower water streaming over you.
He pulls back the shower curtain and his face falls as you shrink back against the soap-scummed tile.
“C’mere,” his hand lands softly at your waist and he tugs you in. You follow without resistance, eager to melt into the reassuring warmth of his skin.
It dawns on you that the arm locked around your waist is half-holding you up, Sanemi bracing your weight against him.
“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He murmurs between kisses against your ear, his other hand cupping the back of your head, cradling your face into his throat. “Just let it out.”
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satoruhour · 7 months
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🪻ugh your drabble about sore reader reminded of this one hc I think of so much that it’s embarrassing. Imagine gojo getting on sorcerer!reader’s nerves to the point that she and utahime almost have an anti-gojo hate club, and one time while bantering with him she jokes about his size or how he’s so self centred he probably can’t even make a woman cum.
Satoru only says “wanna see what I’m all about?” and safe to say she gets dicked down like there’s no tomorrow. Throughout the night he also makes fun of her for being all talk in the beginning but cumming so easily, makes her beg for it, will never let her live it down. Next day Utahime’s real pissed she lost her club’s vice chairperson.
My kitty isn’t even purring atp she’s meowing loud and crystal clear. Satoru who’s smug and a big tease in bed is so unbelievably sexy to me
a/n: discussions of incompetent dick game LMAO, oral f! receiving, fingering, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple rounds
OHHHH MY GOD YOURE SO RIGHT ACTUALLY HYACINTH ANON sorry i took so long to get to this sobs. yes yesyes id like to think sorcerer was with them before but left the scene like nanami and never truly kept in touch with the students at tokyo high. id also like to think this happens before the actual series starts (ages 24 - 25) bc gojo might still be honing his technique and theres still that playful banter at that age. god and they have a school reunion and he does some annoying crap dude.... utahime is DEFINITELY debriefing with you after that whole thing. shes by your side the whole night recalling on the stupid shit gojo did as a hs kid, when he collapsed that mansion without putting up the veil. you had to calm her down LMFAO
but at the reunion there was alcohol and you both get hiiiiigh and all things get 18+ almost immediately, talking about how gojo def cant find the clit and he fingers women wrongly and cant make any use of his dick thats probs small 😭😭😭 which is like ... you also have an inkling that he might not be that small because he is .... 2 metres tall but ya never know with how cocky gojo is. and that inkling is gone instantly when u hear him talk cause his voice is so ANNOYING and dripping with cockiness. he also has that certain lilt in his voice that you realise he uses only with you, overly teasing and silky smooth and u hate how you notice that
gojo is fucked up as well, u know he doesnt hold his liqour well but hes sober enough to ask “wanna see what im all about?” and you especially hate how you look around to see where hime is at and when u just catch a glimpse of her heading into the bathroom, youre nodding slowly and you do nooooot know what youre getting urself into !
needless to say, gojo is already getting u so hot and bothered just from a simple kiss. he warped you two back to your apartment (bc he rather die than get found out by megs and tsumiki), which he has been to before !!!!! gods even the tension back then was so palpable but gojo was in a vulnerable place with geto and everything and didnt want to do anything that would hurt his heart more. you two make out for A WHILLLEEEE and if ure wondering if hes alr so good at kissing, what else is he good at ....?
youre proven wrong time and time again when gojo goes striaght for your clit, rubbing slow circles and he has u begging for more, more something just mere rubs. gojo has the gall to lick a stripe up your soaked panties and sucks a little at your clit and god he is LOVING the way all your previous insults about him fall short of your lips and doesnt have the same punch: “still doesnt prove your dick’s b-big—” gojo lips your panties to the side and eats you out. he eats. you. out. to prove a point but also he falls in love with your pussy, slobbering all over it and shit. “didnt tell my your pussy was so good, baby.” “cat got your tongue? do i live up to your standards?”
you realise hes cocky for a reason and that his tongue game is fucking insane. the same goes for his fingers, locking eyes when he first inserts his digits in and your moan is like heaven to gojo bc he likes nothing more than to prove people wrong. and this is the best way to do it !!!! “cum on my tongue, sweetness.” oh YOU DO !!! YOU DOOOOOO
and then you think gojos done with making his statement. nah. youre so fucked out just from oral and hes smirking down at you, bringing your hands to his crotch.
“what?”
“wan’ you to open my pants yourself.”
“so it’s small?”
gojo scoffs with a smile, he already finds himself addicted to you and your taste. “no. just curious to see your surprised face.”
it gets him off every time (even after dating. and cmon dont tell me you WONT be his gf or at least his fwb after this?) you react like that, mouth open and eyes never leaving his exposed cock that he could probably slam it inside.
wee woo and once he starts to fuck you ooohhhhhhggggghhh eveyrthing you say is INCOHERENT. you try to string words together, insults and name calling here and there but it’s always interrupted by moans and whines. “you’re so— mmhfuck— insanely anno— satoru!” its words and words but none of them make sense. youre drunk on his cock. he fucks you in every position imaginable and the first time he wants to pull out bc he isnt an asshole, you're trapping him between your legs and begging him to cum inside, inside, inside WOOOOWWW HE GOES INSANE.
“i’m on the pill, s-satoru! wan’ your cum inside, please, please—”
“you’re driving me fucking c—crazy. i will, i will.”
anyway yeah you guys go multiple rounds and youre rendered speechless at every turn, surprised at yourself that even when youre spent youre sinking down on his cock and riding him yourself right after you both came. everythings sticky and gross and gojos still sensitive but hes hooked on your pussy and lets you do whatever <33
the next morning u wake up caged in his arms and hes saying something annoying again. “wanna make this a regular thing?” and you attempt to reject him, pushing him away and getting up from your bed but youre sore everrywherreeee and he swoops in just as youre about to fall. “dick too good, huh?” you roll your eyes and just let yourself be pampered by him. you spend that next day just making out and being close to each other and u wonder what to tell utahime LMFOAAOAOA
you end up getting a few missed calls after gojo had sent a selfie of you both, blanket covering your naked bodies after doing the obvious and he just chucks ur phone to the side and continues to kiss you LMAOAOAOAO. oh sigh thats such a nice scenario maybe ill write it properly one day
hello hello!
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zqmbiescorpse · 11 months
Text
THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST
lottie matthews x female reader
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a/n: i used the word 'homosexual' once and every time i see it i giggle a bit, so if it feels out of place for you it felt out of place for me too lmao
summary: you and lottie have always been suspiciously close for best friends. one night at a party, the feelings finally surface. the only thing left to complicate the situation is a plane crash and a possession.
warnings: alcohol, smoking, brief mentions of homophobia, kissing, sexual tension, suggestive themes, possession, minor depictions of violence (like once i think)
word count: 5.6k
(masterlist)
Your head pounded rhythmically, in time with the pulsating music blaring all around you; the consequence of partying in the middle of nowhere with an abundance of alcohol. By some miracle, you and your team had made it to nationals and were due to fly to Seattle the following morning, so naturally, every member of the Yellowjackets could be found here, either drunk or high - in hindsight, it was not the best idea, but you were teenagers, a lame excuse for the fact that you'd get up to some stupid shit. 
If you'd had a mind of your own and had refused to succumb to the pressures of high school, you would most likely be at home now, snuggled up in the warm comfort of your own bed, attempting to fall asleep since tomorrow was going to be very busy for you. Without a doubt, as much sleep as possible would have prepared you for the day, even if you were kept awake for a little while due to an overwhelming anxiety and excitement gathering in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies were congregating to flutter around down there. 
However, you were currently standing propped up against someone's car. You didn't know whose it was, just that it was oddly parked in the middle of the party, surrounded by towering trees and irresponsible youth. Either way, it provided you with something to lean on, eliminating the need to hold yourself up while you slumped against it - red plastic cup in hand, you occasionally sipped the cheap alcohol, the flavour reminiscent of metal, bitter and sour, burning the back of your throat as you slowly swallowed it until there was nothing left. 
Why were you here then? You'd find yourself pondering that question every other moment of the night, each time, your brain would trigger a similar answer and you'd suddenly be fine with the atmosphere again. The social gathering was merely a non-suspicious justification to spend time with Lottie, who was off scrounging for more beer to supply the both of you with. It hadn't been long, a few minutes max, though, you still wished she'd hurry up and come back. You weren't really invested in conversing with any other members of your team, or anyone else here that attended your school for that matter - leaving you awkwardly awaiting Lottie's return. 
This didn't automatically mean that you disliked the people you would play the sport with, you did like a large majority of them and they were your closest friends. You weren't a loner, despite your lack of socialising at that moment which suggested otherwise; everyone else seemed to be scattered about, maybe in pairs or threes, moseying around with their own designated companion. You'd even catch glimpses of some of the girls kissing random guys, undoubtedly sparking trouble and unwanted romantic drama. You didn't want to be part of it. Ultimately, you were quite content with reducing yourself to clinging to Lottie's side, as you typically did.
The girl was witty, and cleverly humorous despite the fact that she was more subtle than harsh, never getting in anyone’s face or poking unnecessary fun at an oblivious target. She wasn't mean, bearing no intent to harm or cause trouble. Aside from her stunning looks and adorably gorgeous face, her genuine friendliness, sarcastic nature, and intelligence only ever intensified your infatuation with her. In addition, Lottie was incredible at what she did, her footwork being the cleanest on the team - how could you not admire her? 
At times, it frustrated you to no end, considering the world you lived in, people would avoid homosexuals like the plague, meaning you had precisely zero people to talk to about your troubles. You'd attempted to dismiss such feelings for your best friend, however, each instance proved useless.
Creating distance between the pair of you failed miserablely, for starters, the image of you and Lottie Matthews being miles apart caused eyebrows to raise immediately - purposely avoiding her made you feel deflated while it drastically upset her. It was inhumane to do that to someone, especially someone so special to you, therefore, that plan was scrapped within minutes. Besides, you played soccer together for your school, it was only a matter of time before you'd be attached at the hip again. 
'Newbie' was not the correct term for you, regarding your experiences with the team, nevertheless, you couldn't help but question your own utility. Although you could never exactly pinpoint why you were valued so much, apparently everyone else thought you were a spectacular asset and essential if they had any hope of winning Nationals. You disagreed. 
On the other hand, Lottie acted like she was your personal hype woman, constantly drowning you in praises throughout every second of every game. Those things got under your skin, in the best way possible. It was a miracle that your performance didn't waver when she'd encourage you with such charming words, blushing and fumbling after every compliment. 
You watched the brunette make her way toward you, a new batch of murky liquid in her hands, your heart a flutter at the mere sight of her. Lottie stumbled across the bumpy terrain, careful of the mud to prevent a fall, yet, she didn't hesitate to raise an arm excitedly to greet you. You smiled, shyly returning the wave. 
"Jesus Christ, what idiot chose here of all places to have a party!" Lottie giggled, slipping the new cup of alcohol into your old, empty one. 
"I have no idea, we kinda just show up, no questions asked," Your response was nonchalant, "Oh, thank you, by the way, for the drink," You quickly added on, eager to show your gratitude, even if it was over something minor. 
"What?" She stared, wide-eyed, struggling to hear you over the booming beats of whatever shitty song was playing. 
"I was just saying thank you for the beer!" Somewhat slurring your words, you began to shout, ensuring that you wouldn't need to repeat yourself again. 
"Yeah, of course! It's no problem!" 
Neither of you was severely intoxicated, at best it was more of a faint buzz guiding your bodies closer. The proximity gradually narrowed - there was not much hesitation as you were too busy caught up in the pointless, drunken conversation flowing between you and her. 
Equally giddy, you became progressively needy, hanging onto every word she spoke, whereas Lottie continuously rambled on about everything and nothing, informing you about insignificant details; a vast grin plastered to her face. Out of all the Yellowjackets, it was obvious that you and Lottie had consumed the most alcohol, the image of you together - fairly isolated from everyone else though still in view of anyone sober enough to care - her free hand lazily played with the ends of your hair and you gazed up at her wearing a toothy grin. 
Although it was strange for her to publicly display physical affection for you, the action didn't linger on your mind due to the woozy atmosphere. The man-made peace surrounding you, created by the beer, was soon broken by a few incoherent voices quarrelling suddenly. 
"You're a fucking sociopath!" 
Lottie, instantly detecting where the commotion was coming from, followed the sound of arguing. You trailed behind her, also eager to see some excitement.
"That was Shauna, right?" You inquired, cracking up at the idea of Shauna of all people getting into it with someone else, she was definitely not the type to start trouble.
"Sounds like her," The taller girl delighted, "Look! There, with Taissa."
You and Lottie merged with the congregation of people intensely monitoring Shauna and Taissa as they bickered back and forth about an incident that had occurred prematurely. Van had evidently been tangled up in the crossfire, the poor girl trying her hardest to separate her agitated teammates. You momentarily realised the situation was because of the gruesome injury inflicted on Allie, having been present when her flesh was ripped off her leg and her kneecap smashed. 
"I don't need you to defend me? Last time I checked you were totally fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy," Nat, feeling targeted, counted herself into the dispute, "I don't know why you two decided to come over here and just laugh when you were very much involved too?"
Her attention focused on you and Lottie, pointing fingers, exaggerating your amusement that had washed over with concern long before it had been mentioned, and hearing everyone shout at each other conveyed the seriousness of the situation plenty.
"Hey, what? We're not laughing?" Lottie defensively piped up, "I even said that I was unsure about it! How was I supposed to know that Tai would take it that far!"
Natalie shook her head, unimpressed with Lottie, instead, aggressively addressing you now. You hadn't spoken a single word, yet, the terror that shot through your veins was indescribable.
"What's your excuse? Apart from the fact that you go along with anything Lottie does," The blonde condescended.
"Fuck off Natalie, I didn't do anything. I didn't bust her leg and ruin her chances at playing sport," You quipped back at the unwanted blame, humiliated at whatever she was trying to hint at concerning Lottie.
"Bull. Shit."
Many negligible disagreements erupted violently inside the once collective dispute, drawing attention to you and your group. The volume was out of control, girls verbally attacking one another over nothing, arguing for argument's sake.
Due to the commotion, you started to attract bystanders, which in turn, alerted a very annoyed Jackie. She stopped what she was doing and promptly stomped over, disappointed and desperate to defuse the situation. Stern words from the girl with honey-coloured hair swiftly lead the fighting members of the Yellowjackets into a clearing, isolated from the party's intense atmosphere. 
You suppressed a groan at the suggested team-bonding activity, not particularly thrilled to forcibly compliment them at Jackie's request. Originally mimicking a military lineup, everyone disassembled from the formation and awkwardly approached each other, mumbling positive affirmations.
You were fortunate enough to be right next to Lottie, the taller girl swivelling around to meet your smaller self. She was without a drink, likely thrown it away before arriving at the new destination - in its place was a freshly lit cigarette. The crisp air dancing across your bodies sobered you up a bit, although not completely, you still felt more capable of thinking straight. 
There were millions of compliments you could've shower the beautiful brunette with, deciding what to actually say was a challenge. Taking drags of the cigarette and blowing the smoke in your general direction, because Lottie knew how it would make you blush, she peered down at you expectedly, awaiting an answer. Alternatively, she could've just taken the lead but didn't, for reasons you couldn't figure out.
"Jackie seriously couldn't think of anything better to fix our problems," You offered, seriously unsure about what to say to her. Lottie certainly wasn't going to let it go, yet the issue of accidentally being too forward and implying your romantic feelings for her was a looming threat that held you back. 
"What is it, not got anything nice to say to me?" She mused, smirking. 
"I admire your commitment to sport and…" You cut yourself off. 
"And what?" 
A strangled chuckle left your tightening throat, leaving Lottie amused. 
"I don't know, well, I was gonna say something like…you're a really great friend to me."
For a millisecond, you considered coming out with the truth and telling her how pretty she was. Ultimately, you fumbled and quickly covered it up, though you couldn't shake the feeling that Lottie knew how awfully you were lying. 
"Sure, you're a good friend to me too," she mocked, playfully jabbing her finger into your shoulder before returning the cigarette to her lips. 
This your eyes followed, trailing up until you inevitably met hers. You didn't know if it was because you'd gained confidence after the alcohol you'd had throughout the evening, or if you had internally decided to be more bold - forward with her - but you didn't want to look away. You couldn't look away. 
You noticed as Lottie's face changed from playful, to something more gentle, yet serious, like she had been suddenly whisked away in the same trance that had lured you into a daze. The ever-present background noise of the girls laughing and joking with each other danced happily around your ears, your subconscious pleased to hear your teammates having fun again. Though, you felt isolated from them, too focused on Lottie's plump lips and how they would part slightly, ready to say something, but freighted to do it. 
Her tanned skin glistened under the shine of the moon, creating something other-worldly out of someone who was already beyond ravishing. The distance between you shortened with each second, Lottie's hands were itching to reach out and pull you closer - you craved it. 
"Me and Shauna are gonna start heading back, get home safe!" 
The lust-filled atmosphere concealing you and her from the rest of the world crumbled, the interruption from Jackie announcing her and Shauna's exit brutally snapped the pair of you back into reality. There were a few awkward glances shared while you casually backed off from her. Nothing really happened; the fear of rejection crept in nonetheless, wondering if you'd overstepped her boundaries. 
Jackie and Shauana disappeared into a clearing, prompting many of the other girls to disperse and start to make their own way home.
"Are we leaving too?" You shyly asked, the tension from moments ago playing on your mind.
Lottie paused, considering her options thoroughly. She scanned the surrounding area, her face radiating an internal conflict so severe she couldn't have just been deciding whether she wanted to return home or stick around for a little longer.
“No. We’re staying.”
Her voice was fierce, a dangerous fire blazing in her eyes as she snatched your wrist and dragged you further within the trees, the taller girl guiding you to an unknown destination. You didn't complain nor protest. It was completely in the norm for her to do whatever she pleased with you trailing not too far behind. One could even say, you were totally whipped. She had your entire trust.
"Where are we going, Lottie?" You laughed nervously - that curious, giddy feeling back again.
"Away from everyone…just the two of us."
You couldn't determine her tone and you couldn't see her face. A silent blush tinted your cheeks. Was she messing with you? Was she purposely sounding so seductive? Did she know how hard your aching heart was pounding frantically against your chest?
The brunette came to a halt and you followed suit. Lottie finally spun around, meeting you face-to-face, her eyebrows were furrowed and her breath against your skin was unsteady, but it didn't stop her from grabbing your jaw and sloppily locking her lips with yours.
Tingles and hot flushes spread across your body due to the very sensation that was her mouth pressing bruisingly into your own. Any whimpers or whines you let slip as you reciprocated the passion she was gifting you, were shushed, Lottie taking the quickest of breaks from being attached to your lips to remind you to keep quiet made your insides melt - having the opposite effect, instead encouraging you to get more impatient.
She forcefully guided you backward until the rough bark of a tree was up against you, your hands clutched to her waist and your nails dug deeper because of this, earning a pleasured groan from the one who was basically on top of you. You could taste the liquor from earlier on her, she could taste it on you too. It didn't stop either of you from wildly exploring each other's mouths. 
Desperate to somehow be even closer to you, Lottie's weight smothered you, her height compared to yours left you with no chance of gaining control, but that wasn't an issue at all. Unintentionally, she lifted a leg for reasons only justifiable because of the positions you were in and the circumstances of a limited area, causing her knee to press into a certain spot between your shaking thighs. A moan slipped from your throat, louder than expected.
"Oh, my," Lottie chortled, taking a step back, "Did you like that?"
"Shut up and keep kissing me…please."
She obliged, buzzing with delight, the kisses slower at first, filled with love, the pace gradually picking up until you found yourselves similarly to where you were before: heated, messy, and running out of air.
-
The weight from your foot cautiously stepping up the rickety rungs of the old ladder made quite a racket, the wood rotting, similarly to the entire foundation of the cabin. It was a surprise that the structure was even suitable to live inside. Your designated pillow and blanket were slung over your arm, consequently, you struggled to make it to the top - climbing a ladder one-handed was not on your bingo card for this summer. Then again, neither was surviving a plane crash and having to live in Canada's brutal wilderness for an insufferable amount of time.
"What are you doing?" Taissa, who must have heard your endeavour, leaned over the entrance of the attic, "Here, I've got you."
The athlete assisted you with ease, collecting your belongings for you and placing them to the side so they would no longer be an inconvenience.
"Thank you, Tai," You nodded, briskly moving to set out a place to sleep, busying yourself in an attempt to avoid any questions you knew were about to come your way.
"Why are you up here?" 
"I just thought I'd support my friend, prove to everyone that there's nothing to be scared of and that the cabin isn't haunted…" You lied confidently.
"Right…If you were so sure, why did it take you this long to join me up here? I mean, I would appreciate it more if you displayed your so-called unity ten minutes ago? When I proposed the idea and got no response? You tryna make me look stupid?" Taissa quipped, mostly light-hearted, but you knew that she wasn't buying it - she was more bothered about getting the truth out of you than wasting time being annoyed.
You brushed it off with a laugh, kneeling down to fluff up your pillow and adjust the extremely thin blanket-crafted mattress. You relaxed yourself against it, now snuggled up on the floor. Taissa copied this, bringing herself to get comfortable next to you. 
"So are you going to tell me the actual reason why you chose to come sleep in this creepy attic?" She was relentless, never shutting up unless your response was satisfactory. "Shouldn't you be down there, with Lottie?" 
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You choked, disappointed that she'd guessed part of your problem this early on.
"Oh c'mon, don't be like that, I'm only pointing out that it's unusual for you to be this far away from her. You and Lottie, not up each other's asses? That's unheard of," She smirked. 
"Okay, shouldn't you be down there with Van, then?" You mimicked the suggestive question, turning the suspicious homoerotic friendship allegations onto her this time. 
Taissa let out a sigh. Not because of you or anything that you'd said, rather, she missed her secret lover after mere minutes of separation.
"Van's too freaked out, she wanted to stay with the others," She spoke, deflated, the cheeky way of her words had disappeared, the reality of what you'd seen at the seance front and centre in her mind. 
"I'm terrified," You bluntly admitted, "I'm way too scared to be near her and I know how selfish it sounds but I can't do it. Lottie…she, well, she was fucking possessed!" 
After the party, you and her never spoke about the kiss. Things carried on between you as they normally would, thankfully, yet the memories of that night corrupted your every thought. You assumed that the plethora of alcohol you shared caused her to forget, which was still strange since you remembered it perfectly, but ignored it anyway. If she genuinely had no memory of it, that would probably be for the best; you'd hate to ruin your already-established friendship. 
However, over the past week subsequent to the crash, there was a minor difference in her that made it so the pair of you were somehow closer than before, this including physical closeness to one another. Hence, you were under the impression that she simply refused to mention the kiss due to reasons unknown. Possibly some variation of fear. 
Then, as her way of 'pulling her weight' to help the group adapt to their new life, Jackie cooks up an amazing idea to host a seance that, in turn, offers Lottie up to any available demons, her body becoming a vessel for the supernatural. 
It was horrifying. The delicate flicker of the candles had blown themselves out, ripping away any source of light; the room was filled with disorientated screams and panicked suggestions to make Lottie stop chanting - your 'sort-of girlfriend' had been repeating something demonic in French, successfully freaking everyone the fuck out. Vague translations had left the group mostly in the dark about what was happening, the only parts that were figured out included the spillage of blood and the demands of an unnatural being. 
The shock that struck you then stayed with you now, the thought of sleeping next to her was unbearable, thus explaining why you relocated to the attic to be with Taissa.
"It's okay to be scared, you know that, right?" She offered, trying to smile.
"I feel horrible though. I can't believe I just left her because I'm too much of a coward to face an issue that wasn't even her fault!" You fussed, grumbling into your hands to hide your face and the tears that were forming in your eyes. 
"Hey, it's not your fault either. I'm sure Lottie will understand if you spend one night away from her, with good reason might I add," A friendly chuckle strived to cheer you up, Tai shuffled up to you in case you needed to borrow her shoulder. 
"We kissed."
You don't know why you told her, you were planning on keeping it a secret, locking it away forever like the situation never even existed in the first place and was just another daydream, about your best friend, that nobody would ever know about. 
The girl beside you took in a shocked breath, "Shit…I kinda guessed that you weirdos liked each other a bit too much but oh my god I wasn't expecting that." 
"We've both been acting like nothing happened that night. Then this had to happen and make everything more complicated." You explained, slightly calmer than you had been a few moments ago. 
"Try not to worry about it. Get some rest, clear your mind, and talk to her about it tomorrow, okay? 
The suggestion had you nodding in agreement, what else could you really do at that point in time? You were in great need of an undisturbed rest and if you had to move away from the possessed culprit to do that then it was in your right to do so. You concluded that at the first chance you got throughout the busy, chore-filled day, you would go off and find Lottie. The idea made you anxious, nauseous even, but you couldn't avoid her and 'it' forever. 
When you finally awoke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the window, golden rays shining down on your face and painfully in your eyes - you rolled over to avoid it, only to discover that Taissa was already gone. 
It must've been later than usual since nobody besides Coach Scott could be found inside the cabin, everyone else had vacated it to carry out tasks, individually pitching in, which you were falling behind on due to the late start.
You recalled Shauna asking you to assist her with something, probably revolving meat rations. You weren't sure why she chose you of all people to help her with that stuff, but you supposed it was because you originally showed some willingness and then suddenly, you're dragged into it every time. 
Luckily, you spotted her immediately, stood around with Jackie, seemingly waiting for you. 
Apologies for unintentionally lying in came tumbling out of you, explaining how Taissa kindly forgot to wake you up. This earned you a hearty chuckle from Shauna who reassured you that it was okay, and that she knew you'd take a little longer as Tai had taken it upon herself to inform the group that you needed the extra rest. Feeling partially relieved, you followed Shauna into the forestry areas to the shed where the dead animals were kept - you didn't fail to notice Lottie's absence. 
As instructed, you thinly sliced the portions of raw meat for rationing; the blade smoothly cut through. It wouldn't be long until you'd run out of food again, the one deer unfortunately wasn't enough to sustain the group forever, hence, you'd rather not worry about it, the hunters were out doing all they could and you had to put some faith in them. 
Your mind drifted to Lottie, not a great decision since thinking about her was very distracting and you were wielding an extremely sharp knife - to accidentally slash your fingers while concentrating on her would be an amusing story for everyone else, not so funny for you however.
"Are you nearly finished?" Shauna checked up on your progress, peeking over your shoulder. 
"Pretty much, yeah," You murmured, preoccupied, "Hey, have you seen Lottie this morning? I'm just curious since she wasn't around the cabin."
"Yeah I saw her, it wasn't for long," She recalled, "Laura Lee took her to the lake. You know, after the seance and everything…she's been acting really weird."
Having finished your task, you placed the knife down and rested your palms against the rigid table, then said, "I don't know how I'm realising it now but, something has been wrong with her for a fair few days. We haven't brought any attention to it, is all. 
With a dirtied rag, Shauna wiped the blood off her hands and urged you to do the same. 
"Maybe keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better. I think we've all been acting reasonably different." She replied, wanting to keep the hopes high, this you appreciated, giving her a small nod as she gathered up the meat and took it away to be stored. 
You sighed deeply and shut your eyes tight, focusing on nothing, ensuring that your head was clear. The heat alone, out there in the wild, made you feel exhausted.
Stretching your back, you heard a faint rustle from no more than a metre or two away. Expertly scanning the surrounding area, you were ready to snatch the weapon up from the table and call for backup. If you were lucky, this could've been your next meal. Your mouth almost watered at the many possibilities of which animal would come into your vicinity without a single clue in the world of what their fate would be. The low grumble in your stomach grew. 
Emerging from the trees, you quickly learnt that it wasn't an animal at all, it was Lottie; her hair had been wet but was gradually drying, some of the strands still clinging to her face, and the t-shirt she was wearing had a few damp patches splattered about. 
Abruptly feeling awkward, you met her eyes sheepishly, waiting patiently for her to break the silence. 
"Is now a bad time?" She carefully questioned you, her hands joined together in a  nervous clump. 
"Not at all," You uttered, feigning confidence when you were actually as equally anxious as she was. 
"Can we talk?" 
You had no objections, having been patient all day, awaiting an opportunity to set things straight with Lottie. Trailing behind her into the woods, you thought back to the party, the way she was leading you to a secluded area so the pair of you could be isolated, it was a direct parallel to that night that seemed a lifetime ago, the night where you had hopes that your relationship might have progressed. 
"Is everything okay, Lot?" You gently asked.
"Where were you last night?" The taller girl decided you'd walked far enough and that this spot behind the cabin was suitable to converse, thus she stopped, "I woke up and you weren't there." 
"I went to the attic."
"Why?"
There was no use in lying, it wouldn't benefit neither you nor Lottie, the excuse that you went up there for Tai, that you failed in convincing her, wouldn't make much sense anyway because the brunette had slept through the proposal. Plus, you just wanted to be honest. That's why you agreed to this in the first place. 
"I was scared of what happened to you," You admitted, the anxiety you felt after seeing her possessed came flooding back, distressing you all over again. 
Lottie paused, conjuring the perfect response. She didn't say anything - a small, understanding, but sad, nod was the best she could do. A harsh pang of guilt struck your lower body. 
"I'm sorry, leaving you like that was probably wrong and I shouldn't have done it, I didn't mean to upset you, Lot. I'm really sorry," You apologised sincerely, "I'm not freaked out anymore, maybe a bit on edge still but, you're better now, right?" 
You wondered if you sounded too whiny, your intention was to ensure that your best friend was okay, nothing else. 
Her big brown eyes swirled with confusion, she couldn't even tell herself if she had returned back to normal, her voice brimming with anxiety, she whispered, "Do you hate me for what happened?" 
"What, no! Of course not, I promise I don't hate you," You explained in a panic, absolutely heartbroken that you'd caused her to say such ridiculous things. 
"I don't just mean that," Lottie slowly spoke, testing the waters as she was concerned about approaching the upcoming admission, "The party too, we never talked about it."
To say you were astonished was an understatement. Lottie, someone who you thought had completely forgotten about the kiss, openly acknowledged the fact that it definitely happened.
"I didn't say anything because I didn't think that you remembered, or that you chose to ignore it. I could never hate you, especially because of something like that. It was amazing!" You exclaimed, red tinting your cheeks, joy spreading across your face. 
This same cheer infected Lottie, her frown lifting into a beautiful, more confident grin. 
"Yeah, it was good," She agreed, blushing furiously. 
Although she appeared happier, the furrow of her brow indicated that she remained slightly apprehensive, prompting you to inquire, "What is it, Lot?" 
"There's another problem, I think I've been seeing stuff and I don't know if it's real or not." The brunette troubled, shuffling around. 
"Like hallucinations? Visions?" 
"Visions. I went to the lake earlier, with Laura Lee, and she dunked me under the water - and I ended up in a candle-lit room and then I saw an explosion and… I don't know what's happening to me," She rambled on, her eyes pricking with tears. 
You reached out to her, firmly rubbing her shoulder for comfort, "You can talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."
"So, you'll believe me? Laura Lee does, but the others are cautious. You're the one that I need." Lottie's expression was solemn, entirely serious about the discussion you were having; her vulnerable side shining through. 
"I believe you and I trust you. I care about you so much, you know?" 
 Your attention was brought to the blossoming pink patches covering her face due to your honesty, the taller girl experiencing an overwhelming mixture of emotions, she launched herself into your open arms. You hugged her back, tightly, letting go wasn't something that you'd be doing anytime soon, the height difference when you'd have such drawn-out, warm embraces always succeeded in making you laugh. 
After an undetermined amount of time, you both instinctively pulled away simultaneously. You gazed up at her, body language oozing with love while you brushed her dark strands of hair out of her face. Lottie's tanned hand cupped your cheek, you could see that she was feeling the warmth radiating off of it, yet, it didn't humiliate you, it felt freeing. 
You leaned in close, pecking her soft lips once, then going back in for a second short, though, sickly sweet kiss. Lottie began to giggle - the melodic noise identical to the one you would hear in the Yellowjackets locker room after a long, tiring game, or when you and her exclusivity went around invested in your own dumb shenanigans. It had been a while since you'd heard it, your heart beating faster as a result. 
Her palm traced your skin until she arrived at your chin, tilting it upwards, accessing your mouth easier as she towered over you - this kiss was not a short peck. It wasn't a sloppy, heated mess either, rather, it was slow and filled to the brim with affection. 
"So are we like a thing then?" Lottie beamed, remaining incredibly close to you with an indescribable bliss. 
"If you want things to be official, then I do too," You marvelled, mirroring her wide, toothy grin. 
You continued to pepper kissing all over each other's faces, showering your counterparts in affection. From there, things were appearing more positive; your hopes were high for the future.
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ourfleur · 6 months
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「Who Do You Belong To?」 [Johnny Cage x Fem Reader]
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Summary: Being in a relationship with someone like Johnny Cage isn’t easy, especially when they have the same reputation he does, always so much attention always on you and your relationship. But maybe you can use that to your advantage, make them all know who this A-lister belongs to.
Tags: nsfw (basically just porn with a tiny plot lmao), semi public sex, au, dom&sub, switch reader, switch johnny, jealousy, possession, pet names (mostly baby)
An: hiii so this is my first time not only writing smut but also posting anything i write lol, i hope its not shit.. i pretty much only wrote this because i had this idea and no one had written anything like it so i wrote it myself.. anywaysss enjoy :3
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3 months. It had been only 3 months since you started dating the “infamous” Johnny Cage. 3 months and yet you were already more famous than 99% of the population would ever be.
You were still getting used to the fame, the constant cameras flashing in your face and the constant attention. You knew so many women would kill to be where you are, in the arms of Johnny, knowing that didn’t make life any easier. Constantly, new drama would stir up, rumours about you or your boyfriend breaking up or cheating on each other. But that… that was bearable. What wasn’t bearable was Johnny's co-star on his new movie. She wasn’t shy about wanting him and when the rumours started circulating of him ditching you for her she laughed it off and played stupid. “Oh really?”, she laughed, “I cannot confirm nor deny anything, it’s up to the fans imaginations.” That bitch made you livid.
This was supposed to be a relaxing day but you spent all of your time on Johnny's yacht reading the nasty and idiotic comments from the media. It was also extremely hard to relax considering the paparazzi was so close by, it seemed no matter where you went you could not escape them. But that revelation gave you an idea.
Getting up off the lawn chair you were lounging on, you pranced your way over to your boyfriend, who was occupied with writing his own movie. Taking the notebook out of his hands as you got on top of him. He was surprised at first but then smirked, eyeing the way your little body looked in that tiny bikini.
“Johnnyyyyy…” You whined while looking at him through half lidded eyes. Slowly, you grinded yourself on his clothed dick. “I need you right now.” You smiled, seeing the way his face contorted as you moved yourself across his lap. You leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I need everyone to understand who you belong to, so do me a favour and fuck me where they all can see.” You felt him hardening underneath you at your words. “Fuck, whatever you say baby.”
You leaned into each other, mouths crashing together in an aggressive kiss. Continuing to grind on each other while making out, only breaking to release some particularly intense whimpers. His large hands running all over your tiny body. Moving your hands down his chiselled abs, you reached the prize. Palming him through his shorts, which elicited the prettiest moans from his mouth.
Finally, you took his cock out, glistening with precum. You ran your delicate hand up and down his shaft, fingers tracing his pretty little veins and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. You raised yourself up, letting him pull your bottoms to the side. You aligned yourself with him and slowly sunk down, making you both moan. You looked out across the water, seeing the many cameras, all focused on you and him. You began moving, listening as he moaned out your name. The way his thick cock stretched you always took you over the edge. You grinded your pretty pussy on him, over and over, not even paying attention to the poor mess of a man beneath you, only staring out at the cameras. Making sure they caught every glimpse of the way you could so easily destroy this big-shot A lister.
“No one else can make you feel this way, right baby?” You purred. “Yes.. fuckkkkk baby yes only you.” You could feel him twitch inside of you while he spoke, he was close. You frowned, “Well that cunt you work with seems to think she owns you.” You pulled yourself off of him, watching him groan with annoyance, his orgasm being denied. “What the fuck? I was close.” Cursing out your name. “Well it’s no fun if we just sit here…” You said, getting off him and leading him to the edge of the boat, your body facing the paparazzi across the water. You bent down in front of him, putting on a show as you pulled down your bikini bottoms. As you did he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your cunt. You turned back around and moved towards him, arms reaching to grab his hair, suddenly shoving him down on his knees. “Be a good boy and eat me out while your adoring fans watch, maybe then I will let you have what you want.” Your sultry tone doing indescribable things to him.
He started by slowly nibbling and biting at your thighs, hands wrapping around them with ease. You groaned, “Don’t tease me Johnny.” Eyes staring daggers down at him. “Whatever you say…” And with that, he dove right in. His tongue flicking and circling around your clit in ways that could only be described as heavenly. Your hands dug into his hair, shoving his face closer to your aching core. He then moved his mouth down, lapping like a dog at your slick, his nose lightly grazing over your clit, leaving so much more to be desired. Your moans were getting so loud at this point you wouldn't be surprised if everyone on the beach could hear you. “Fuck Johnny, I’m close, you’re doing so good… You look so good on your knees.” Your brain turning to mush as you babble random praises, your orgasm steadily approaching.
And when it hit you were a mess. Moaning out curses and his name, legs turning to jelly. The only thing to stop you from collapsing was his hands, which were glued to your hips. After you finally regained the ability to stand on your own Johnny stood up. Licking the left behind slick on his lips with his tongue. You were about to bark another command at him before he interrupted you. “Agh fuck this. I can't take this anymore.” You were about to question him before he grabbed you, turning you around so he can bend you over on the edge of the boat. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Im fucking tired of this, it’s my turn to ruin you, sound good baby?” His voice sent chills down your spine. You nodded, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He leaned back and soon you felt his cock between your thighs, gliding along your folds. Then, suddenly, the feeling was gone. You turned back to face johnny only to see him walking towards his chair. He grabbed his phone and then winked at you. “For safekeeping yknow?” He finally was back behind you, stroking himself a bit before finally easing himself into you. He groaned your name, taking you fully. You could hardly contain your whimpers when he started moving.
“You look so good on camera, fuck, you should star in one of my films.” He laughed, now moving at a pace all too slow. “I’ll only star in it if I get to fuck you in it.” You responded, releasing a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. He took his free hand and moved it to your clit, rough fingers circling it at an insane pace. The combination of him pounding into you and hitting that special spot inside if you and him rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. With the way you were moaning and the way your cunt was tightening around his cock he could tell you were close. “You’re so beautiful when you’re whining around my cock.” He chuckled. “F-fuck.. Johnny please I'm so close.” You stuttered out. Suddenly he grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back into his chest. He held the phone out in front of the 2 of you while beginning a relentless pace. “Smile for the camera while you come undone babe. This is your glamour shot.” You could barely focus on what he was saying due to the pleasure that was shooting through your body. He moved his hand from your hair to your neck and squeezed a little. “I said smile.” His tone was stern and that was the last straw. The knot in your stomach snapped and you came, making sure to look into the camera and smile, per his request. Your moans were near pornographic as you shook from your orgasm, falling back onto the edge of the yacht. He pulled out of you and you couldn’t help notice, he still hadn’t cummed. You turned around and glanced down to his still-hard cock and then to his face.
“You gonna come over here and fix this or what?” He questioned, smirking while he spoke. “I guess it’s only fair… you have been so good to me today Johnny.” You turned, falling to your knees. Now eye level with his length. You moved your hands to it, gently stroking your boyfriends dick, trying to see what reactions and noises you could get to come out of his pretty face. You brought your mouth to his tip, doing short kitten licks to his slit. You moved your tongue all over his cock, licking and tenderly tracing every vein with your tongue. “Come on.. don’t punish me more than you already have..” He begged, looking down at you with those puppy dog eyes you just couldn’t resist. “Grab your phone Johnny, let’s see if that whore will understand who you belong to after this.” He was taken aback by your request but nonetheless complied. The moment he started recording you were ready to put on the performance of a lifetime.
Never taking your eyes off the camera, you stuffed his cock into your mouth. Johnny quietly whimpered at the feeling of you taking him in his mouth but before he could savour it, you pulled his dick out of your mouth with a ‘pop’. “Don’t try and quiet those moans Johnny, I need to make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He nodded and you eased your mouth back onto him. Johnny had never seen something more beautiful than you choking on his cock. The way your mouth worked had him sure he was in heaven. His breathing sped up and he grabbed your hair. “Fuck i’m so close, let me fuck this pretty face.” You nodded and he gripped your hair tighter. He was so rough, whimpering and crying out with pleasure while shoving his dick as far down your throat as he could. His thrusts started to become sloppy and before you knew it he was painting your throat white and releasing the hottest groans and praises. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and bent down to inspect his work. “You are so gorgeous, I can never get enough of seeing your little mouth filled with my cum.” He smiled, ending the video and throwing his phone to the side while you swallowed.
Safe to say that the internet was going wild for a few months after the paparazzi released those pictures… and safe to say that his stupid co-star didn’t do shit like that again.
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muertawrites · 2 years
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Omg yes please give us perv!eddie he’s not Jonathan ffs
yo are you KIDDING ME jonathan is such a FUCKING CREEP taking pictures of the girl he has a crush on having sex thru her bedroom window like please sir go to PRISON that is where you BELONG
i'm gonna get self indulgent again. honestly just expect it from me.
18+ minors go play roblox
perv!eddie is such a babe. he is so gross. has so many intrusive thoughts. not a decent thing happens inside that pretty little head of his. he babey <3
the thing that makes his perversion so weirdly charming is that he just feels so guilty about it. like it's okay to have fantasies. sex is fun for sane, consenting adults.
but this poor man feels so bad because he can't stop thinking about how much he wants to fuck.
he has an insane collection of porn. he's got magazines, erotic novels, dirty videos, each one more depraved than the last. he researches sex positions for fun. he writes erotic poems (most of them are about you). he has an extensive list of songs he wants to get down and dirty to, many of the entries scribbled out and reordered. he's put a lot of thought into it.
and his toys? he has so many. cock rings. ball spreaders. fleshlights. vibrators. stimulating lube. lube in different flavors. you name it, he probably has it. this man loves to make himself cum.
big pillow humper. he'll grip and bite his pillow and fuck it hard, talking to it like it's the one girl he wants to be with most (you know who. steve lmao.)
he's definitely tried to suck his own dick before. not successfully, but he had to make an attempt. for science.
but he doesn't want to just blindly fuck anyone. no, he's too insecure for that. and how much fun can you really have with a stranger? he wants to fuck someone he knows and trusts, who'll care enough to get him off and who he wants to see get off, too.
you. he wants to fuck you.
you live rent free in his head. not only are you the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but you're smart, and you're funny, and god he wants to hear what kinds of sweet little noises you'd make with his mouth pressed to your clit.
and that makes it very hard to be such close friends with you.
every little thing you do makes him want you. when you wear a low cut shirt, he can't stop himself from peeking at the dip of your cleavage. when you bend over, all he can think about is how amazing your ass would look and feel pushed up against his dick. when you wear shorts or a skirt, he just wants to slip his hand between your thighs. and don't even mention watching you eat - anything you put in your mouth conjures images of your lips wrapped around his cock.
touches of any kind drive him crazy. when he hugs you, he can feel your breasts, the curve of your waist, how good they feel. he's squeezed your love handles a little bit before, saving the memory of the sensation so he can imagine gripping them as he pounds you into his mattress. he "accidentally" brushes his arms and hands against your chest any chance he gets. he tenses up whenever you put your hand on his shoulder, or grab his arm, his entire body fizzing with electricity because you're touching him. that one time you kissed him on the cheek? best day of his goddamn life.
oh, and the one time you guys went to the beach with a group of friends? and he caught a little glimpse of your pubic hair under the line of your swimsuit? and your naked side brushed up against his naked side? he came so hard thinking about it later that night that it was like a religious experience.
he's a bathroom masturbator. when you hang out together, he disappears at least once to go rub one out, his cock straining painfully against his jeans because all he can think about is what you probably look like naked. how your nipple would feel between his teeth. how your pussy would feel around his fingers.
and listen. you and eddie are tighter than one of his cock rings (you know about his cock rings for heck's sake. gareth and jeff don't even know about them, and you've seen those men do tradesies of different issues of playboy with each other). you know he's depraved and totally disgusting but. you can't help but find it.
so cute?
like he gets all blushy when something turns him on, and he can't make eye contact with you, and he goes into Ultra Chivalry mode to try and make up for it. he really is just the sweetest guy in the world, if also the most painfully horny guy in the world.
but he's also your best friend. you bonded over pulling each other's strings and being generally annoying and irksome to each other.
so do you take it easy on him?
lmao no. teasing him is too easy and way too much fun. you're not mean about it, though.
once when you were in his room you caught a glimpse of one of his porno mags, how the woman on the cover wore a velvet choker and nothing else, how the page was pretty crinkled with... use.
the next time you hung out you wore a velvet choker, and styled your hair a little bit like hers. when you got in the front seat of his van he just stared at you for a moment, eyes bugging out of his head, cock straining against his zipper. when you bit your lip and giggled at him he thought he was gonna cream right then and there.
you also love dropping hints about your kinks to him and calling him little nicknames that'll get him going. "hot stuff" is a winner, as is "big boy". you risked calling him "daddy" once and you thought he was gonna combust. one time he was helping you fix the collar of your blouse and he pulled the ties at the neck a little to tight; he apologized immediately and profusely, but you just shrugged and said "it's cool, i like being choked"
the fantasies he had about you that night.
because gareth and jeff still see you as just one of the guys, you're often invited to their kickbacks in one of their basements. of course eddie is there, and of course there's beer, always. you have a few too many at one of these hangs and, when the conversation between the three virgins switches to condoms, you chime in.
"i just think it wouldn't feel good," jeff says
"gonorrhea doesn't feel good either, man," gareth giggles (he's stoned off his ass on the good weed eddie brought over)
"yeah, and condoms can be really sexy," eddie adds. he's about to quote something from his literature when you speak up.
"they can," you agree. "i know how to put a condom on with my mouth."
the room goes dead fucking silent, all of them staring at you like you just admitted to hosting orgies with the local recreational softball league every weekend.
"what?" you laugh. "it's not hard."
"yeah but now eddie is"
that was when he decided he needed to man up and ask you out. you gave him a demonstration of your little trick not long after. he refuses to put a condom on himself now that he's seen you do it.
as a boyfriend eddie's still a little perv. he's just got all his perv energy focused on you, and he doesn't have to hide it anymore.
he's very handsy. he's respectful of your comfort level with pda, because at the end of the day he loves you and wants you to be comfortable, but that doesn't mean he always keeps his hands to himself - he just puts them where no one can see them.
you're at the movies? he's got his arm around your shoulders and his hand down your shirt, cupping your breast. grabbing a bite with friends? his hand is between your legs, squeezing your upper thigh at a dangerous height. in an empty aisle at the local bookstore? he's pulling you in so he can suck on your neck, hands planted firmly on your ass cheeks.
when you kiss him goodbye on nights you're not spending together, he usually goes back to his van and immediately jerks himself off to the thought of you. when you do spend nights together, he likes to undress you as soon as you're through the door, sometimes even before. if you're wearing a skirt, that's a challenge for eddie - he's trying to sneakily get your panties off under it the entire way back to whoever's place you've decided on.
speaking of panties.
he's a little thief. and he's not even discreet about it.
you stay over at his place? your panties will most certainly go missing at some point, only to reappear a week or two later. he comes over to yours? he's opening up your drawers, looting through undergarments, pointing out his favorite bras and pocketing his favorite undies.
"why are you so gross?" you ask him once, teasing.
"gross?" he gasps. "i miss you so much when you're gone that i've gotta have a little piece of you with me, and you call me gross?"
he's not even lying when he says that. having a piece of you is just part of it for him. he loves you, even if it is in kind of a weird way.
one of his favorite dates is going to sex shops with you. he loves picking things out for you - lingerie, restraints, gags, toys, he wants to try it all with you. his favorite thing he's ever bought you is an o ring gag (paired with some numbing throat spray). his favorite thing you've ever bought him is a vibrating cock ring with an attached clit stimulator. that gets used a lot.
he's also made it kind of a hobby of yours to read erotica to each other. you'll alternate picking books - he reads the ones you pick, and you read the ones he picks. you actually tend to get side tracked talking about plot points and character arcs. but eddie is pretty proud of himself for being able to finger you and read aloud without losing his place or missing a beat.
now let's talk photos.
if we're sticking to canon, he uses your polaroid camera more than you do. he loves taking nudes of you, with you, and has multiple shots of what you look like from his point of view during sex pinned up on his wall (and in his wallet, and in his van, and in his work locker, and...). he also likes to slip naughty photos of himself to you, slotting them in beside your bookmarks and under the windshield wipers on your car.
if we're going for a more modern twist, oh my god this guy loves making you his personal cam girl (and being yours). the lockscreen on his phone is a post-sex picture of you, all fucked out and beautiful curled up next to him. he sends you teasing pictures throughout the day, broken up by a few cumshots and masturbation videos. he loses all sense of reason when you do the same to him, even going to the extent of faking an illness so he could get out of work and meet up to fuck in the parking lot of your own workplace. not a fan of cyber sex, though. he likes being able to touch you.
and on that note, he habitually fucks you in public. you've lost count of how many bathroom stalls you've left used condoms in.
he showers with you often, but strangely enough, you've never had shower sex. he likes the intimacy of it, holding you close and kissing your shoulders and just feeling like you're the only two people on earth. if you're showering, he'll slip in with you without a word and just hug you, especially if he's had a rough day.
when it all comes down to it, eddie loves you. he may be depraved and hornier than any other man you've met, but he would never do anything that makes you uncomfortable or crosses a line.
he's lucky you're a dirty little freak like him.
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bellewintersroe · 3 months
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Jenson Button x FamousReader!2009
this is like a second part (can be read individually) to THIS. Here’s just some more headcannons of what it would be like when Jenson is in a relationship with a famous British celeb who’s extremely popular, especially amongst the party scene. warnings: mentions of sex, oral sex, nothing too graphic but I just knowww Jenson gets down and dirty. mentions of alcohol and some drug use? not to glamorise it we all know celebs ain’t innocent ok. for this case 18+ 😇
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Jenson is a cutie ok, the more he falls in love with his SO the more he finds himself looking out for her in the garage. Whether this be before or after his race, just imagine his head poking out of his car, or he’s fully suited, helmet still on, glimpsing around trying to find her.
lots of cuddles, he’d keep an arm slung around her, especially if they’re in public where there’s paparazzi- in that case he’s keeping an extra tight grip on her.
despises the paparazzi ok- he’s a polite man, pretty tame, but British press in the 2000s were VILE and for his girlfriend, he can’t stand the idea of them even looking at her.
helps shields her eyes when the flashes are too bright.
Taxis home together at questionable hours of the morning, limbs sprawled over each other and getting caught snogging in the backseats.
drunk sex- especially when he wins the championship, he’s so smug and proud, fucking into her with all his energy, cos he’s world champion baby 😏. lovesss seeing her legs pinned up over his shoulders.
thanks his girl publicly after he wins his championship.
as I mentioned in the part prior to this, Jenson LOVES going on holiday with her, like he’s a bit of a perv when it comes to seeing y/n in a bikini, especially after he’d already seen to many shoots of her before even meeting each other.
never admits to being a fanboy of her but the smirk would say otherwise.
getting down and dirty on a yacht, hidden by a beach towel whilst he fingers her, he has his sunnies on and he’s smirking, pressing kisses to her temple and whispering sweet nothings.
“you’re doing so good aren’t you?” “all these people taking pictures of you and nobody has a clue what we’re doing.” “should put on a show for them, shouldn’t we?”
so mf dirty, his British accent makes it 10x sexier too.
sex in the pool of a yacht, and every single room in there, wants to try everything with her, but he isn’t pushy in the slightest- Jenson wouldn’t ever come close to making her feel uncomfortable.
They’d deffo see pictures released of them both the next day and giggle because nobody would have a clue what was happening under that towel.
can be really soft in sex, like stroking her face, talking her thru it -omfg I need him.
Deffo wants to try like anal, and certain kinks- I feel like she would too, idk when they’re both drunk they’d decide they wanna try something and sometimes it’s an utter fail.
other times it’s just giggly, exciting sex where they’re both eating fucking whipped cream off one another or something.
soft, gentle moans from him, especially when the sex is more passionate, when it’s rougher I feel like he’d be quiet but let out some grunts whenever he’s out of breath or gets really into it.
He’s a sucker when she goes down on him, like he’s a mess omg- if there’s one way to elicit moans from him that’s exactly how and she’s soooo good at it- he makes plenty of public innuendos about this.
I feel like y/n would wear the smallest little mini skirts, like she’s a Y2K queen and befriends lots of other wags at this stage- constantly pictures walking around the paddock looking cool asf.
Deffo a trend setter, but they’re the type of couple in 15 years that the younger generation look at and go ‘they’re together?!?’
as they get older they deffo become more private, but not secretive.
can spot each other in a crowd instantly, when he wins a race you best expect him to practically JUMP onto her, sometimes he forgets he’s bigger than her lmao.
The cameras go CRAZY for this and their faces are printed all over the newspapers.
Quiet, lazy mornings in England, especially when it’s cold out and Jenson finally has time off- the two of them can really appreciate the quiet side of life at home.
makes him want to settle down- but I think he’d be worried at first about bringing a child into the world- they’re having too much fun with each other, but I think they would calm down after a few years.
occasional bickers, maybe they both walk out of a nightclub and she’s storming ahead of him with a face like a slapped arse. Jenson would make a comment and y/n would be pissed that all the onlookers heard.
Y/n and Jenson’s relationship on the rocks?!
bitch the next morning he’s on top of her having the best make up sex ever.
Seriously their stamina is insane so they fuck like rabbits.
I feel like because y/n maybe has grown up in the public eye? Or fame came in her teens, her behaviour can be fairly erratic at times- like especially before Jenson the partying and boozing was out of control, but being a few years older he really settles her down in life.
like not that she’s troubled (I’m not gonna glamorise it but it’s real life) but it can’t be easy dealing with everything and fame at a young age, I feel like Jenson would take care of her at times, like if she gets wayyyy to drunk he wouldn’t lecture her, but he’d deffo have this sad look on his face, clearly he’s worried.
she’s ok tho, especially with him and like I said she settles down and matures a lot with Jenson.
She’d probs smoke weed every now and then and idk if Jenson would like it, especially when he’s so focused on racing, but he tries it once or twice and would probs just fall asleep immediately.
I feel like he’s so cuddly at times, like in the middle of the night he’d just snuggle up to her. So cute. On holiday on sunbeds he’d be so cuddly, grabbing at her and it causes for some really cute paparazzi pictures.
not to glamorise droogz and drinking but them two probably party a lot in the first year together.
Jenson is the type to eye his gf up from the other side of the room, nods her over or something sexy.
hand would start on your shoulder and end up on her ass- so many headlines the next day…
But yeah they’re such a popular, attractive couple, you either want to be with them or want to be them.
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anantaru · 2 years
Text
𝗛𝗨𝗦𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦 !
˖˚˳⊹ husband headcanons feat. scaramouche : albedo : heizou : childe : zhongli : diluc : kaeya : kazuha : ayato x gn! reader
˖˚˳⊹ genre: fluff? kinda : possessive behavior (not too detailed) : a bit suggestive for good measure : sprinkle of angst
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husband!scaramouche who‘s unbelievably controlling! whenever he‘d meet your expression, your body would bloom with warmth in response to the possessive gaze that swept over you from head to foot before his eyes settled on your face. He’ll expect you to be entirely honest to him, but once he’d suspect that you aren’t, he wouldn’t be nice to you anymore, at all :( ! narrowing his brows annoyingly at you, he swiped his thumb over your lips roughly, you yielded, fitting against him in a way that made him more proprietorial of your shaking frame and spirit. Questioning you as if you were nothing more than a tiny pawn in his big game.
husband!albedo who's always afraid he won't have much time for you! he's an incredibly busy man, always tinkering and working because he loves it <3 though, even albedo knows he has another priority now and he will gladly take time off work because if he wasn't even able to do that, he wouldn't have married you in the first place! In the beginning, he wasn't really used to being together with someone - meaning living together, waking up next to each other - , he honestly didn’t know how he was supposed to act to make you happy or if he was doing enough to please you. Please! give him time because he's completely fallen for you and always tries his best to satisfy your needs!
husband!heizou who‘ll come home late at night from a mission, telling you exactly everything that happened without actually being allowed to (sara wouldn't approve lmao)! But you‘re his spouse after all <3 ! he‘s certain you won't tell a soul anyways. He‘d carefully reach down and grab you by the arms, pulling you up into his lap while also securing his arm around your waist to kiss your cheek. Acting like a little child who‘s excited about the smallest things, spelling out everything that he had come across to. Being transparent to each other is a big deal for heizou, he thinks it‘s probably the most important thing in a marriage.
husband!childe who'll always leave you breathless whenever he comes home from a mission <3 your breath caught as you finally felt his searing touch and gaze on your body again, way too addicting passionate kisses combined with the confidence he always seemed to portray so fucking naturally, truly nothing in this world would come close to this. He's incredibly protective towards his family and will do everything in his power to keep you far away from the fatui and his job in general <3 absolutely adores whenever he sees you spend time with his siblings, they mean the world to him and catching a glimpse of you playing a random game with teucer will always make his adoration towards you grow deeper within seconds. <3
husband!zhongli whose kisses are consuming, hungry yet sweet, always teasing you with a hint of promise and diving your body to new heights of awareness, nothing would ever compare to this. Seriously, can't get enough of you, unable to comprehend that you're solely his now, that he really is married to you! will do everything in his power to make you happy, not to mention that he'd be overprotective at times. The thought of losing you would truly break his heart. Sometimes he'd recall the agony he experienced. The darkness within his thoughts amplified the pain in his blood and the only thing that can truly calm him down whenever he gets sucked back into those negative emotions again, is you, his beautiful spouse. <3
husband!diluc who'll treat you like a goddess. He would ache to show you how much you meant to him, to open your vision of him and his world and show you the beauty that made him fight as he did. He's a little over protective at times, but he means well and always makes sure to leave you enough space and most importantly, to not make you uncomfortable and respect your boundaries. Ever since he met you, he understood the value of gentle caress and a soft spoken word whenever he'd be down. You're his top-priority now and he would do anything for you without much thought. (Could explode into tiny pieces whenever he sees kaeya talk to you) <3
husband!kaeya who'll show you off like a priced possession. Just needs to rub it under everyone's nose that you're long taken and his <3 needs to be near you and get your attention at all times and does accomplish this with teasing the hell out of you. However, even though you love him, his humor can become quite dry and witty, never missing a chance to bug you <3 absolutely adores the cute expressions you make whenever you're mad at him! It‘s a lot of physical touch for him to show his love as well, — doesn‘t have to be sexual though, even prefers it to show you love in a non sexual way — it‘s more of embracing you into a tight hug or simply feeling your heart beat steady against your chest that makes kaeya feel like he truly reached home <3
husband!kazuha who‘d send you hand written letters from all of his adventures! Always making sure they‘ll reach you no matter what <3 not to mention that he‘d add a little gift to the letter as well — ( a gift he bought from another nation for you) — so you‘ll have something of him to hold onto while you‘re eagerly waiting for his return home. And once he‘s finally back, kazuha will gather you in his arms, pulling you close - his lips seeking yours hungrily in a great caress. <3 he‘d be very supportive over everything you do, wants you to follow your dreams and expects you to be supportive towards his goals as wel, it's all about giving but also taking for him !!
husband!ayato who‘s spoiling you rotten <3 !! always buying you cute clothes and jewellery, you‘re his spouse after all, you need to look the part. Even though you told him he was spoiling you way too much, he insisted you deserved it. <3 Whenever he sees you hang out with Ayaka he couldn't be happier. His heart would flutter lightly once you would meet his gaze, and begin to pound rapidly as he choose to walk towards the both of you. His face engaged in a smile once the both of you greeted him, small faint wrinkles created around his eyes and grooves in his cheeks, placing his fingertips on top of your hand and sliding up your arms in a gentle caress. Ayato was certain that in that particular moment, he couldn't possibly be happier <3 !!
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do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022
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arachine · 2 years
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— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝
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+ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer! eddie munson x f! reader 
+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature
+ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in which reader finds a pair of cuffs in eddie’s room...
+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, orgasm denial (kinda), squirting, sassy reader, loser eddie :0
+ 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k
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+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a thirst about brat tamer eddie and hopper but i got carried away and focused entirely on eddie LMAO! so, to whoever sent in the thirst, i will be making a hopper version one of these days. but yeah, whore thoughts >.<
+ i feel like with eddie, he’s not as overt in his proclivity for brat taming as opposed to hopper. like hopper jokes around every so often…entertains the idea when you’re being a nuisance…but with eddie? it only comes up when you happen to discover them on accident. 
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“Hey,” you call out, your voice carrying over into the room eddie was currently occupying, “what’re these?”
The brunet replies with a brisk ‘what?’ without bringing his attention to your lingering presence in the doorway of the living room, hands too preoccupied with strumming the chords of his beloved guitar.
You stand there watching as he smooths his hands up and down the body of it, like he were running his hands over the pastures and plains of a person and not…an inanimate object. He’d always treated his guitar like it was his pride and joy, because, well—it was. 
At an attempt to draw his attention towards you, you clear your throat. Once, twice, then another. 
“Edddd,” you drawl. It comes out in a lilt, soft and sweet; almost like you were beckoning him, as a gentle mother would call for her baby. However, your persistent advances to get his eyes on you are to no avail. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” eddie strums, “you are absolutely incredible, just amazing.” It’d be nice if those sweet words of affirmation were aimed towards you, but they weren’t. You were competing with an inanimate object, and to be quite frank, the damn thing was beating you by a mile. A tinge of jealously begins to form in the pit of your stomach when he goes from cooing to having a full on conversation. God, he couldn’t be more of a loser.
He’s taken out of his trance upon hearing you clear your throat for the umpteenth time in the last minute.
“Why’d’ya keep doing that?” He finally looks up, but before his eyes can fix on your own, he catches a glimpse of the item in your hand.
How’d she—
“‘Cause you weren’t paying attention to me. Thought I was the love of your life, but I guess this guitar that’s not even sentient’s got me beat.” You follow up with a small chuckle, as if to hide the fact that a teeny, tiny part of you maybe was a little jealous. And yet, despite the smile you feign, and the tone of your voice, Eddie senses a touch of jealousy? Frustration? Maybe even a mixture of both. Partially because you’re so easy to read, and Partially because you unintentionally let a little pout slip through. Cute, he thinks.
“So,” Eddie rises from his seat and saunters over to where you stand, “you were asking me where i got these old things from?” The sound of his boots padding across the floor create an ominous, heavy thud. He walks in a way that’s a little taunting—intimidating, and his smile only grows wider with each step as he encroaches toward your space in the doorway. 
“Yeah,” you reply, “I wanted…I wanted to…” Now he’s fully in your space. The palm of his hand rests flat against the surface above the crest of your head. His boot clad feet are planted firmly in front of yours, and his face (which wears a smirk now), nears closer and closer to your own—so close that the warmth of his breath leaves zephyr-light kisses in it’s wake. 
“You wanted what, baby? Some attention? Is that why you were in there,” his eyes shift to his room, “snooping around? ‘Cause you were jealous?” 
“Why would I be jealous of a guitar?” You query, but he only replies with a hearty laugh.
“‘Cause I was touching her today. Calling her my good girl, my sweet girl—is that what you wanna hear too? That you’re my good girl? My best girl?” Eddie raises a knuckle to the skin of your cheek, watching for any minuscule changes within your expression. 
“Shut up, Munson.” swiftly, Eddie pilfers the cuffs from your hands. Before you can react, the metal item is closed around your wrists, and then a loud ‘click’ resounds through the air. He’d imprisoned you in the very cuffs that you sought an answer for, essentially beating you at your own game. If that’s how he wanted to play it, then so be it. 
“You damned—“ Eddie interjects with a tsk.
“Don’t be mean, (Name),” he places his hand over his heart, feigning faux hurt. “Good girls listen, and right now I need you to be quiet.” 
The boy promptly grabs you by the forearms and pushes you inside of the room. He walks you all the way back until your movements are put to a halt by the presence of his bed. Without saying a word, he pushes you backward with the force of a finger, and waits until your body settles from the impact. 
“What’re you do—“ 
“What’d I say?” You bite your tongue and don’t attempt to hide the sour expression molding on your face. 
Rather quickly, he begins his assault on your clothes, stripping you out of your denim jeans with unbridled urgency. Next to go are your panties, but before he tosses them into the mess of clothes that vacate his floor, he sits down onto the bed, a creak of springs not too far behind. Your eyes are fixed on him and him alone. They scour every inch of his face, they scour his body, and they track every modicum of a movement he makes. 
His hands slide between the crevice of your thighs, and he slowly spreads them apart as if he were handling something so fragile, that it’d break with the blow a breath. Your eyes are still set on his; they repeat back every small glance, and every blink, and they lower at the same time his face levels with your clothed cunt. 
The blood in that courses in your body is scorching, you’re sure of it. Because the room is getting hotter, and you’re feeling dizzy, and now you’re growing a little restless as you anticipate his next move. Still, he’s unmoving. He’s just sitting there, with his eyes trained not on you, but your pussy. 
There’s a wet spot growing darker and darker with each passing second, and it clings to the silhouette of your folds, giving Eddie a generous view of his precious target. Then, without a beat, you feel the plumpness of his lips on your core. He kisses it once, twice, three times before licking a long stripe up the center. The sudden contact makes your back lurch into the air, ushering a faint whimper from your lips. 
“Eddie…” the desperation in your voice is palpable. He knows you’re growing restless, so he indulges you. The brunet pushes the cloth to the side and swipes a finger over your folds. The second he pulls it away, a tether of essence follows suit until it disappears completely. You’re so damn wet, and so damn cute with your knees apart for him like this, that it’s got him rock hard in the confines of his pants. But his intentions were to get you off, so, unfortunately, he’d have to opt for grinding pathetically into the bed. 
Experimentally, he pushes his middle finger in, slides it all the way to the hilt. His eyes briefly scan your face; you’re looking back at him intensely, though, there’s a softness mirroring back at him—as if they were saying: ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘need you’. At least, that’s what he thinks, but his assumptions must be correct because your cunt’s sucking his finger in so tightly, he can barely pull it out. so, he doesn’t. He adds another, and once again, pushes it all the way until each notch of his knuckles disappear inside. 
“God, look at you,” he breathes, “you’re so…” Whatever he says after is lost on you, because now his mouth’s latched onto your clit, and the shock renders your brain completely, and utterly useless. Jello, you feel like jello with the way he’s working his mouth on you. Very briefly, he sits up, causing a frown to form on your face from his absence. His calloused hands smooth up the pastures of your thighs, up until they reach your hips; and once they find the hem of your panties, he hooks two fingers under the fabric, pulling them down the apex of your thighs. 
Now that you’re beneath him, fully exposed with your cunt front and center, he resumes his attacks. If his eagerness wasn’t compelling before, it is now. Because now he’s getting noisy, he’s getting sloppier, and the smacking and spitting, and popping sounds are reverberating off the walls. For a few minutes, this is all you hear, all that fills your head as he works you open with the thickness of his digits. 
Instinctively, your hands move down to grasp his face but the tightness and cold metal against your skin is a stark reminder than you cannot. All you can do, is reach down and grab a tuft of hair from the crown of his head. A frustrated, strangled whimper emits from your throat. eddie blinks up briefly, then laughs against your folds. 
“Awe, poor baby,” he mocks, “do you want these off?” 
You nod your head erratically, sputtering incoherencies as his deft fingers thrust in and out of your wetness. His once agonizingly fast pace starts to slow, then he stifles his ministrations altogether, pulling all three of his long digits out. Eddie rises from laying on his belly and then settles on his knees. he smiles deviously before opening his mouth to speak.
“I’ll take these off on one condition.” You lift your head weakly from his pillow and mutter a ‘what?’ that comes out more exasperated than intended. 
“You have to admit that you’re a brat and you wanted my attention,” the boy says matter-of-factly, sporting a smug grin that you wanted to oh, so badly wipe off. 
“And if i don’t?” You counter, sporting a smug grin of your own—an iota of seriousness laced in your tone. Eddie only climbs up to your body, using the strength of his fists to hover over you. 
“Then you just don’t get to cum.” 
The statement sends waves of intermittent pulses straight to your core. You weren’t sure if it was his tone, or the fact that you could see yourself within the reflection of his obsidian eyes, or even if was because of the fact that you could feel him pressed beneath you, but you listened. 
“I’m a…brat.” It came out so hushed that if it weren’t for your lips moving, he would’ve been convinced you didn’t say anything. 
“What was that?” You sit up and slump against the headboard, the noise of metal clanging against metal being a loud reminder of your unfortunate confinement. 
“I’m a brat,” you say with a little more energy, but still you’re not done. Eddie wants to hear you say it with more conviction. More, more, more. “And…?” 
“And i wanted…I wanted your attention,” you admit, “i wanted you to touch me all day, but you were too busy playing with that thing, and not me.” oh, this is good. This is more than good—more than what he asked for, but nonetheless, it was something. And how could he hear his pretty baby’s admittances and not indulge her?
“Now, was that so hard?” Eddie asks. “I set a condition and you fulfilled it, now you shall reap the benefits.” Even amidst a setting like this, he never fails to say the most ridiculous things. But his words are of no major importance to you. All you want is to kiss him silly, and for his mouth, his fingers—his hands, to be on you.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Munson. Just kiss me.” The handcuffs drop to the bed with a silent thud, and soon as they do, you grab his face into your hands and kiss him. You kiss him silly, urgently. A peck there, a peck there, a peck there…you kiss him until all of the breath in your lungs is knocked out of the both of you. You kiss him until it’s wet, and sloppy, and heated—until your lips swell from the pushing and chasing, until the clashing of teeth and tongue become too much. 
Soon, he pulls away and leaves a slick string a saliva connecting from your lips to his. He grabs you once more by the forearms and brings you to sit up, stripping you of the black sabbath tee he’d given to you months prior. It was more yours than his now, and it suited you better than it ever did him. The sight of your bare chest sends the blood rushing straight back down to his cock, he wants to fuck you so, so, so very badly. 
For a final time, his lips find yours, and then they pull away, and wander down, down, down. They hover over the base of your neck, your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts (before making a pit stop to gently kiss your pebbled nipples), down the plains of your abdomen, and then stop at the top of your mound. This is when he looks up at you. this is when he says ‘i love you’ without even uttering a word. 
His eyes depart from your face and close shut when he places the final kiss on your mound. It’s a little longer than the rest, like he’s been waiting to get here, to worship this place, and this place alone. As soon as his lips leave your skin, they’re on your cunt in an instant. He spares you not a second to prepare; he’s focused, unfettered, and machiavellian in his process, incredibly so.
“Tastes so good,” are the words that you manage to hear. You know he’s speaking to himself and not really to you, because every so often, he mutters something else under his breath. 
“More,” you plea, pushing his head deeper until the tip of his nose brushes the opening of your slit. You can feel the vibrations of his voice against you, but you have idea what he’s saying. All you know is that he complies and gives you exactly what you want. As you stare up at the ceiling, chest heaving and falling uncontrollably, you feel the firsts of his fingers to enter you. It’s tantalizingly slow, disappears and exits in a steady rhythm. with his free hand, he clasps it under and over your thigh to keep you from fidgeting. The free palm finds solace on the bone of your hip before he squeezes it once, and then uses it to draw deliberate circles on the engorged bud. 
“E-Eddie, you feel—fuck—so good,” your voice trembles in pleasure. Wisps of his hair fall over his face, and you grab what you can to form a makeshift ponytail so that he can see. 
The last digit enters your cunt, and the delicious stretch that you were anticipating since his absence was finally restored. You’re sure you could cum just from this alone, from the mere pace his fingers set, from the places they reach, and the burn that resides when he pushes them all to the hilt. The air is getting thinner, and your moans are getting louder…there’s no way in hell you weren’t starting to get close. The final push is when he replaces his hand on your clit for his tongue.
It works in tandem with the thrusting of his fingers, and it laps at you angrily, like he were a man dying of thirst in the desert and you were the first droplets of rain: a miracle. The pink muscle dances and flicks with calculated precision. From your perspective, his movements don’t seem to have any real significance, but Eddie knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing—which is writing the entirety of his name on the expanse of your pussy. 
E-d-d-i-e. pause. then, finishes with M-u-n-s-o-n. Maybe he’s crazy, but the second he finishes spelling out his name, your cunt starts to clench him harder and your thighs start to tense around his head. If you came because your body somehow knew he was spelling his name, he’d never let you hear the end of it; because in his head, in his mind, that meant that it recognized him as yours, and vice versa. 
“‘M gonna…think ‘m gonna cum!” 
Faster than he could blink, you’d come undone right on his fingers—his face. Your back arched into the air, forming a pretty crescent shape before falling limp into the plush of his sheets. He’d lifted himself from his stomach and sat beside your shaking frame, pulling you up along with him. One of his hands pulled your head to lay against his chest, while the other opted to rub comforting motions on the side of your arm. He watched intently as your heaving chest started to settle down, your prior ragged breaths now much more even. 
You were so cute like this, all fucked out, barely able to open your eyes. The two of you stay like this for some time, basking in the tranquility of post-sex. Once you open your eyes, he immediately greets you with a snarky comment. 
“Well, hello there, sweetheart. Almost thought you were a goner,” Eddie exaggerates, sticking out his tongue and closing his eyes as if he were a corpse. You sit up from his chest and turn to him, pinching his sides.
“Ow,” he soothes his side, “but on a more serious note, you will be washing these sheets,” he points down. You take a look at the sheets, and he’s right. Your essence stands out starkly against the color of his sheets, you’ve made a complete mess of them. Smiling, you offer a shy ‘sorry’ and then hide your face in the barrow of his neck. You can feel his hot gaze on you from this position. 
“Guess i did tame you after all,” he gasps, “where’s the sass? You’re all smiles and cheeks now.” You lift your head from his neck and give him an indignant look. 
“What? I didn’t say anything wrong!” You squeeze your eyes into slits. “The guitar wouldn’t be looking at me like this right now if I used my tongue on her…” He shoots in playful banter. 
“Shut up, Munson.” God, he couldn’t be more of a loser. 
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© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit. 
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year
Text
Wrapped Around Your Finger
Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader
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Also on AO3
Summary: Hannibal decides to switch things up a bit, relinquishing his power to you.
WC: 1.8k words
Warnings: SMUT! (18+ only, minors dni), light bondage, femdom-ish? (not really tho lmao), oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don't do it at home), that's all I can think about so lmk if I missed anything!
------
Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.2 drifted out of the living room speakers. Outside, there was a thunderstorm, rain falling heavily and ceaselessly, the wind howling. There would be glimpses of lightning between the drapes, and you counted the seconds before the low growl of thunder would follow. 
There was a fire in the hearth – yes, a hearth! You were dating a very fancy guy , after all – crackling softly. The room smelled pleasantly of firewood and old books and him. You had a glass of white wine in one hand, your body loose and languid, warm all over. 
It was simply the perfect night to stay in.
You were slightly bent over, looking at a section of his book collection. Cookbooks were the vast majority, which wasn't surprising, but your interest was also piqued by tomes on art history, natural sciences, and even anatomy. 
You picked one up at random and leafed through it absently. Dr. Lecter -- as you sometimes still liked to refer to him -- was such an exciting man, knowledgeable on things that you had never even imagined. He had undoubtedly expanded your palate, but you had to admit he'd expanded your mind quite a lot too.
You wore no pants, only the shirt Hannibal had been wearing earlier, which just barely reached your knees. He was down to his briefs, lounging on a chaise and absolutely devouring you with his gaze.
"Are you going to read to me?" Hannibal asked, directing your attention back to him. 
Though his tone was teasing, he secretly wished that you would. He did love your mellifluous voice, especially when reciting sonnets. Or moaning his name to the wind, like a ravenous wolf called to the full moon.
You blushed, a bit timid that you'd been caught so utterly distracted. "Sorry, just poking around..."
He smiled, feeling a little smug. "Find anything interesting?"
“Hard not to.” You said, approaching and swinging one leg over him, straddling his hips. 
His free hand immediately came to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing fire on your skin. 
Your voice hitched as you added, “Y-you know, you can tell a lot about a man by what he has in his home.”
���Oh? And what have you discovered about me?”
You chuckled, setting down your glass. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips, adding, “And you like being in control.”
“I suppose I do,” he returned the kiss with fervor, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. You shuddered against him, and he pressed closer to you. 
“Oh, but that reminds me…” he continued, suddenly pulling away. “I’ll be right back.”
You plopped down on the chaise as he got up and headed down the hall to his bedroom. You watched his muscular back as he retreated, biting your lip. You felt a little lightheaded from the sudden influx of arousal, so you lay back, rubbing your thighs together. He always knew how to get you going, but he did have a bit of a tendency to be a tease. He wasn’t like Will, who loved getting straight to the point.
Not that you were complaining about either of them.
When Hannibal came back into the room, he handed you a black box. There was a piece of paper with your name on it on top, and you traced your fingers over his refined penmanship. Your eyes then widened, and you couldn’t help but panic a little bit at the prospect of forgetting something important. 
“A gift?” You squeaked.
“Of sorts,” he smirked, utterly devious.
“What for? Oh, Hannibal, you shouldn’t have.”
“Just open it, darling.”
So you did, sliding the top off to reveal the last thing you had expected – lengths of crimson-colored rope. Not just any rope either, but silk rope, the expensive-looking kind. You blinked, momentarily shocked, but when you looked up at him, his smirk had only grown.
“I thought we could do something fun– turn the tables a bit.” He purred, kneeling before you. “You have been such an angel with me, and perhaps it is time I surrendered to you.”
“And you want me to…” you trailed off, eyes flicking down to the ropes in your lap.
His eyes were a bewitching flame that kept you captivated. “Yes, sweetness. And perhaps next time, they can go on you. It’s only fair, you know?”
“Are you sure?” 
“One hundred percent.”
You smiled, all sharp teeth ready to sink into his divine flesh. You captured his lips in a fierce kiss, pressing yourself flush against him. You felt his teeth graze your lower lip, making heat pool in your belly.
When you pulled away, you tied his arms behind his back, one resting over the other. You figured you’d keep it simple tonight, even if you were already imagining all of the patterns you wanted to tie all over his body. You could make him into an utter masterpiece – not that he wasn’t already one.
You kissed his neck and up to the back of his ear, feeling his chest heaving against yours. 
“You okay?” You whispered against his skin, and he nodded.
Your eyes roamed over him, your hands soon following, sliding over the expanse of his chest. Up to his shoulders, down his arms. Then they stopped at the edge of his briefs, fingers teasing the elastic.
“This is all mine, isn’t it?” You said, biting your lip.
“Yes, my darling, all of me,” he breathed, and his breath hitched as your hand wandered lower, cupping his length over his briefs. “And what parts of you will you give to me?”
“The tastiest bits, of course,” you smiled, and his eyes mirrored the hunger you felt. “Stay on your knees for me, will you?”
Stepping back, you ever-so-slowly began to unbutton the shirt you wore. He was unable to tear his gaze away from you and all the skin you were revealing. You still had Will’s teeth marks on your inner thighs, now a faded pink and yellow. His eyes lingered on this detail, and he swallowed hard. 
You let the shirt fall off your body, pooling on the hardwood floor. Next, your thumbs hooked on the sides of your underwear, a little lacy black number you knew he loved. Your hips swayed as you pulled it down ever so slightly, looking coy as you teased him.
He strained against the ropes, wanting to touch you, to retaliate for this delicious torture you were making him go through. But he needed to be good, he reminded himself. He was rather enjoying how things were unfolding, after all. 
You felt a sudden thrill at watching him squirm, loving that you had such an effect on him. Your underwear also fell to the ground, and you approached him slowly, a mischievous glint in your eye. 
“So, would you like a taste?” You asked huskily.
In response, he eagerly leaned forward, which made you chuckle a little. You bent down until your lips were only a hair’s breadth apart, and you whispered, “Can you say please?”
“Please,” he breathed, and you pulled back a little as he tried to kiss you. “Please, I want to taste all of you.”
Satisfied, you planted a quick, chaste kiss on his lips before standing back up. You ran a hand through his hair, pulling his head back a little. Then, leaning on one of his shoulders, you draped your leg over his other shoulder, pulling him closer.
In the next moment, his face was buried in your cunt. He was absolutely ravenous, licking you with an almost trance-like gusto. He shifted against his bindings once more, wanting to add his hands into the mix, but to no avail. His frustration only fueled him on, and you dug your hands into his hair once more.
Arching your back, you completely lost yourself to the sensation, baring the column of your throat to the skies as your eyes fluttered closed.
“That’s it, right there,” you encouraged, words melting away into a moan.
You let out a shuddering breath as his tongue began to trace slow circles around your most sensitive spot. Then his teeth were then added into the equation, adding just enough pressure to make lightning bolts of pleasure shoot through you. Almost involuntarily, you began to rock your hips, seeking more, more, more.
Greedy thing, he thought to himself, both amused and absolutely bewitched. He hummed deeply in approval, and that coil in your stomach wound tightly, just on the brink of snapping.
“H-Hannibal,” you breathed, muscles tensing. “I-I’m gonna…”
With a keening wail, you stumbled over the edge, heat rippling throughout your body. Your legs turned to Jelly as you gripped his hair tighter, grinding your cunt against his face with wild abandon. He moaned deeply, utterly lost in the all-encompassing feeling of you. You panted, your movements slowing as you rode out the aftershocks, coming down from your high. 
You straightened, pulling your leg back and letting go of his hair. He smiled up at you beatifically, the lower half of his face glistening. He loved the sight of you trembling like that, face and chest flushed, eyes glassy with stars. How you would feign demureness after orgasm, as if ashamed to have displayed such carnality; Such wantonness. 
We are made of flesh and fault, he recalled you saying once. 
A moment later, when you were feeling much more merciful, you untied him and lightly massaged his arms. But he immediately descended upon you, kissing all over your body – adoring every inch of you. Your thighs gripped his hips, urging him closer, and he happily complied. When he sank into you, it felt like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, where they belonged.
You clung to him, digging your nails into his biceps. Your eyes once more fluttered close, but he immediately said, “No. Look at me.”
You complied, gazing into those intense amber eyes of his. “Good girl,” he praised with a small smile, giving you a quick kiss. 
The words were like a flame licking over your skin. He could feel you clench around him, which elicited a low moan. He went harder, faster, his pace losing control. You could tell he was close, and you stretched up to kiss him, biting his bottom lip. His muscles tensed and he cursed under his breath, your name soon following. He reached his own climax, holding you close to him.
Then the two of you lie sprawled on the floor, breathing hard, limbs tangled. Your head lay on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. You kissed him on the ribs, right atop it, and sighed contentedly.
“So, about the next time we do this…” you trailed off, a playful edge to your tone.
He chuckled, stroking your hair. “Oh, you have no idea what I have in store for you.”
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