agojo

[agojo]

You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.” 

“Hm.” He doesn’t look up. 

“May I ask what you are doing?” 

“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.” 

Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.” 

“I am doing no such thing.” 

You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.

“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.” 

The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.” 

He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.” 

He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say. 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.” 

Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.” 

— — — —

The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her. 

“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.” 

The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?” 

Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.” 

You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”

[agojo]

Noncon w gojo but reader is resisting the whole time so he ends up tying them down. And he’s not even trying to be nice about it, he’s degrading her and choking her all that stuff 🤭

BREAKPOINT

PAIRING yandere Gojo Satoru x f!reader

WARNING non/con, unhealthy relationship (red flag Gojo), use of vulgar words, manipulation, humiliation, fingering on kitchen counter, bondage (hands only), blowjob, cumming in mouth, raw sex, breeding kink, orgasm denial, forcing to say stuffs, clit rubbing, pussy eating, nipple play, choking, degradation, lactation kink, multiple orgasms, oversensitivity, creampie, manhandling, so much yanderee

NOTE twitter link here.. sorry for posting late

Dating Gojo, the incredibly good-looking and powerful guy, isn't as simple as you'd think. He frequently reminds you of your perceived inferiority compared to him, and that he could find someone better.

Every time you're with him, he's makes you feel insecure. He keeps putting you down for your mistakes and flaws, always reminding you of all the things he can do that you can only dream about. He often says mean things about how you look and what you can do, making you feel like you're not good enough for him. Even though he's rude and acts like he doesn't care, Gojo still wants you around, making sure you know he's more important in your life.

He's always flirting with other people, which makes it clear he doesn't respect you. When he's with his friends, he completely ignores you, leaving you feeling invisible and unimportant. Your feelings never seem to be a priority for him. It's clear he's more focused on other things, yet he still wants you to stay. You're beginning to realize this relationship isn't healthy for you, but you still crave his approval and validation, hoping he'll see you as worthy.

Your best friend advises, 'You should leave him, girl.'"

"But I love him," you counter.

"But does he love you?"

You stay quiet. Gojo's words may say one thing, but his actions speak differently. Your best friend is right; you realize you need to do something about it. So you send him a text asking to meet at your place, you need to talk to him over this.

Satoru arrives at your house, his long legs carrying him up to the door with an air of confidence. Knowing he's the strongest sorcerer in the world makes him feel untouchable. As he knocks on the door, a thrill of excitement courses through him, anticipating what awaits inside. The familiar scent of your perfume greets him as you open the door, and he smirks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He takes off his dark blue jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, taking in your appearance before he speaks in a low voice, ... "Been missing my dick, huh?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you snap, glaring at him. He smirks, stepping closer to you, his body heat enveloping you as he looms over you.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Satoru repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice. He raises an eyebrow, letting the question hang between them, challenging you to elaborate. When he doesn't get an immediate response, he crosses his arms, sitting on your couch and regarding you with a cocky grin.

"So, why the fuck did you call me if you're gonna give me this attitude? " he asks, feigning ignorance. His eyes gleam mischievously, daring you to confront him about your issues head-on.

You stand there, silent for a moment, searching for the words to express your frustration. Before you can say anything, Satoru turns away, sauntering towards your kitchen like he owns the place. He opens the fridge, pulling out a beer and cracking it open with a satisfying sound. Your heart pounds in your chest, your frustration mounting as he drinks it so casually.

As he turns back to you, he raises an eyebrow, the unopened beer in his hand. "You gonna talk, or are you just gonna stand there?" he asks.

"This...this relationship isn't working," you finally manage to utter, your voice wavering slightly. Satoru freezes mid-drink, the beer halfway to his lips. The surprise in his eyes fades quickly, replaced with a cold, hard stare. He sets the beer down on the counter, taking a step towards you.

"Break up?" He repeats, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. "You think you can just toss me aside like an old toy?" He growls, his eyes burning with anger. The force of his personality filled the room, making it hard to breathe. Satoru leans in, his face inches from yours, his blue eyes burning with a fire that matched his temper.

"You better think twice about this, princess," He snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Once you break things off with me, you'll be all alone. No one is going to love you."

"I'm sure," you say firmly, standing your ground despite the fear in your chest. Satoru's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. He steps back, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Did you find someone better than me?" He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief and accusation. The air around you thickens, the tension palpable. Satoru crosses his arms, leaning against the counter, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt. "Tell me... Is his dick bigger than mine?"

You shake your head, your voice trembling as you reply, "No, I just..." Satoru cuts you off, gripping your wrist harshly and pulling you towards the counter. You gasp in surprise, trying to pull away, but his grip is too strong.

He pushes you down on the counter, his dick pressing against your ass, the intensity of the contact leaving you breathless. His eyes bore into yours, the challenge in them undeniable. "Does he fuck you better than me?" he growls, his lips grazing your ear.

You struggle against him, your heart racing as you beg him to let you go. "Please, Satoru...let me go!" You plead, your voice shaking with fear and desperation. Satoru chuckles, his grip tightening around your wrist.

"Not until you realise, what a huge mistake you did by making me mad." he growls, grinding his erection against your ass harder. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to defy him.

Satoru pulls down your pants, revealing your ass. He smacks it hard, the sting of his hand making you yelp in shock. Before you can react, he slides his long, cold fingers inside you, groaning softly at the wetness he finds. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he mocks you, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, well, looks like someone wants more of my cock even after saying she wants a break." He chuckles, twisting his fingers inside you roughly. His eyes are full of malicious.

You can't help but moan in spite of yourself, your body betraying your intentions. Your mind screams at you to fight back, but your body responds to his touch, betraying your resolve. Satoru's grin widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Looks like you can't resist me, princess," he taunts, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. "Maybe you don't want a break, maybe you just want me to praise you while I go down on you."

Satoru grips your head tighter against the counter, his fingers thrusting into you relentlessly. Your body buckles under the onslaught, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You moan loudly, unable to hold back your pleasure.

Within moments, you're screaming his name, your body convulsing as you cum hard. Satoru watches you with a satisfied smirk, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his fingers. He continues to thrust into you, milking every last drop of your pleasure.

Satoru carries you mercilessly to your bedroom, leaving you with no time to rest. He quickly sets you down on the bed and his hands rich to unzip his pants. Desperate to get away, you try to crawl away, but he grabs your ankle and uses his weight to pin you down. With a flick of his wrist, he removes his blindfold, revealing his piercing blue eyes. Your heart races, fear and desire warring within you as he takes his blindfold and ties your hands above your head, effectively immobilizing you.

"Please, stop!" you plead, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to release you. "I'm sorry, I take back everything I said! I don't want this!" Your words hang in the air, heavy with regret and fear.

Satoru leans down, his gaze hard and unwavering. "The only sorry I accept is by your mouth showing me how sorry it is by sucking me off." He growls, his finger tracing the shape of your lips. Your heart races and your body trembles at the command.

He pulls himself in front of your head, and you hesitate, your heart racing in your chest. The room spins around you, and the scent of him overwhelms you. You understand you have no choice but to obey, swallow your pride, and submit.

Taking a deep breath, you wrap your lips around his shaft and reluctantly start sucking him off. Satoru growls in approval, his hand entwined in your hair, guiding you. Your mind screams at you to resist, but your body obeys him, your mouth moving rhythmically, pleasing him.

As you continue to suck him off, Satoru's grip in your hair tightens. His movements become more erratic, his breaths growing heavier. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're determined to make this quick, hoping he'll release you soon.

You rest your head, waiting for him to untie you. But instead, he parts your legs, grinning wickedly as he rubs his cock against your clit. You flinch, but he doesn't hesitate. With a swift movement, he pushes into you, stretching you painfully. A cry escapes your lips, tears streaming down your face. You beg him, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Please, be gentle..."

Gojo grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Well, well, I thought you'd be fucking other guys, but you're still tight as hell." He says, thrusting harder into you. "Feels so fucking good." His voice is thick with lust, his movements becoming more aggressive.

Your body tenses, your mind spinning in the turmoil of conflicting emotions. You're angry, yet you can't deny the pleasure he brings you. His words fill you with shame, your skin burning with embarrassment. Despite your struggles, his grip on you is ironclad. You moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure washing over you as he continues to thrust into you. Your mind screams for him to stop, but your body betrays you, responding to his touch.

Every thrust is a reminder of your weakness, your inability to resist him. You can't help but wonder who else he's been with, who else has shared in this intimacy. A wave of jealousy washes over you, your heart beating wildly.

"Fuck, you're gushing," he growls, his hips thrusting into you with increasing intensity. He reaches down, pushing your top along with bra up, his fingers roughly pinching your nipple, twisting it. Your eyes widen, a gasp escaping your lips. "Yet you say you don't want it?" He grunts, his voice thick with dominance.

You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. His words echo in your mind, reminding you of your place. Despite your struggling, your body responds to his touch, your clit throbbing with each thrust.

Gojo mocks you, his voice dripping with venom. "What's that, are you enjoying it, slut?" He asks, his movements becoming more frenzied. "You think you can find someone better than me? Someone who fucks you better than me?"

His words cut deep, your heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. He laughs, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Look at you, begging for my cock, you worthless slut." Gojo sneers, his movements growing rougher. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world, and you think you can insult me? Ha!" He laughs, his eyes shining with malicious delight. "Listen up", he slows down his thrust making sure you listen to him instead of moaning, "Don't you dare bring that break up again, I own you, I own this pussy, I own your fucking heart, I know it, you love my baby and I love you too.. So let's.. let's be like before, me and you, together.. We can have a baby too, our own family .. so beautiful.", with that he starts pumping into you again hard and fast, desperate to fill you with his fertile seed.

Your cheeks burn with shame, your toes curling as his thrusts grow stronger and rougher, and just before you hit your orgasm, he pulls out, "That's what you get for disobeying me."

You gasp, your pussy gripping on to him as he pulls out. "That's what you get for disobeying me," he growls, his eyes blazing with anger. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, your orgasm cut short.

He stands over you, his chest heaving, his gaze locked on your face. You shrink under his gaze not daring to question him why he stopped, you know everything is your fault. NO, he made you believe everything is your fault, but you cannot help but accept it, you cannot help but accept his cock inside you.

Gojo leans down, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Look at you, clenching around nothing, desperate for my cock." He mocks, his hands gripping your thighs. "Worthless slut."

He licks your clit, a cruel smirk on his face. You whimper, your body trembling with need. His tongue teases your clit, your moans growing louder. He chuckles, enjoying your helplessness.

Gojo's hand glides over your body, his touch electric. "Do you want me to finish you off?" His voice is a combination of cruelty and seduction.

Your heart races, your body trembling with need. You nod, unable to speak, your mind filled with a mix of shame and lust. He grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked on your face. "Beg for it, slut." He demands, his voice thick with lust.

You hesitate, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He slaps your pussy, making you jolt. "Beg," he repeats, his voice cold.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, "please, make me cum..." You whisper, your voice barely audible.

Gojo's eyes squint, "Hmm, how about you say you love me 69 times then I will think of it."

Your eyes widen, your heart racing with a mix of anger and desperation. You know you have to do it. "I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." Your voice grows stronger as you continue, each 'I love you' more genuine than the last.

Gojo watches you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leans down, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of your clit. "Keep going.." He orders, his voice rough with desire

You nod, your face heating up with desire and shame. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's tongue traces your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body trembling with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He slips two fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Keep going..."

Your heart races, your body trembling, "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's fingers slide inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body shaking with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes.. yes" He encourages, his voice rough with desire.

You continue to profess your love, your body trembling with a mix of desire and shame.

After what feels like an eternity, Gojo slides his fingers out, replacing them with his tongue. You whimper, your body trembling with anticipation.

He licks your clit, his tongue tracing the curve of your most sensitive spot. "Good girl," he praises you, his voice thick with lust. "Sixty-nine times, I counted each 'I love you.'" He chuckles, his eyes locked on your face. "That's a lot of love for me, baby," he teases, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, let's make you cum."

His tongue traces the your walls, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes locked on your face for your reaction. "You taste so good, so wet and needy."

Your abdomen shaking as you move your hips against his face, you cry out, your body trembling with pleasure as you cum. You collapse there, your heart pounding with a mix of ecstasy and shame.

"Untie me now," you plead, your voice shaking with emotion. But Gojo shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, "Nah uh, not till I cum, filling your little pussy."

He inserts himself back inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your pussy is oversensitive, making you cry out in pain. "No more," you beg, your voice filled with desperation.

Gojo grits his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels your walls clenching around him uncontrollably. He slows his pace, allowing you time to adjust to your oversensitivity.

As you recover, he starts thrusting into you, his movements slow and deliberate at first. His pace gradually increases, his eyes locked on your face. "You like being a slut for your boyfriend, isn't it?" He growls, his voice thick with lust.

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self respect anymore.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become faster, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You're such a good little whore, aren't you?"

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self-respect anymore. "I'm your little slut."

Gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hmphh, keep squeezing me.. A-ah," he growls, his pace increasing even more.

Your eyes roll at the way he's choking and fucking you like a monster, his hands around your neck, his thrusts relentless. Gojo leans down, his lips colliding with yours in a rough kiss.

You moan into his mouth, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hah! You gonna cum again?," he mocks.

You groan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. "Yes.. Hngh- please I am gonna cum again" You admit, your voice shaking with emotion.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become frenzied. "Y/N, let's... try it again.. together... Can't you imagine? How lovely you will look with your tummy swollen and round with my baby, and milk flowing from your breasts. Just think of it", he bites his lips imaging all of that. He unties your hands, letting them grip onto anything they find.

Your mind is unable to make out his words, you just nod, taking his cock like a doll.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your skin as he sucks on your nipple. "Gonna fill you, hmmph," whimpers escape his lips, "You are so obedient for me baby."

As Gojo nears his climax, his thrusts become frantic, his movements fierce. You cry out, your body trembling with pleasure and pain.

His thrusts become stronger, his movements more intense. Your walls clench around him, milking him as you cum again. He roars, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes, cum for me, baby, cum for your strongest boyfriend," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He fills you with his seed, his movements slowing as he finishes. "You did well, baby," he pants, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He loosens his grip on your neck, allowing you to breathe.

You collapse against him, your heart racing with a mix of pleasure and fear. "F' me, am your little.. slut.. ." You whisper, before passing out .

Gojo's lips caress your bruised neck, licking them before giving you a small peck on your lips. "I love you, Y/N, I appreciate you," he mutters, his voice thick with lust. "But I ain't gonna spoil you."

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you fall asleep in each other's arms, exhausted from the passionate night.

In the darkness of the night, he whispers in your ear, "Never gonna let you escape me, my little play thing."

[agojo]

"creature of myth."

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

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

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

NEED THE NEXT PART

Sundered 2: EMBERS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's not sad.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 

They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 

Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?

Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?

You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.

Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 

Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.

Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 

She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.

You met Satoru at a nightclub you worked as a bartender at. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 

He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he brought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 

You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense first meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 

“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 

“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.

Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…

You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for?

“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.

“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.

“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 

You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.

You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.

You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 

Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.

“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.

“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.

“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.

You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 

You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 

Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 

—--------------------------------

“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.

He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.

“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 

Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?

He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.

“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I can tell. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.

—-------------------------------------

After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.

“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.

There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.

Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 

You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.

“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 

Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.

“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?

Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.

“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.

“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you wish you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just want to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 

“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.

“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.

You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 

“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 

“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.

You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 

You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 

Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short time. 

You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.

He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.

His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.

Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 

It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.

It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 

It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 

But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?

“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 

Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.

At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 

“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.

“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.

“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.

“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.

“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.

“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 

Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.

Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.

—------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.

He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can focus on her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.

He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the time to think about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.

Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?

Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face you when he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.

So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 

“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.

“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 

Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.

“Think you know who I am now?” 

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a/n: just send an ask if u want to be removed <;33

[agojo]

cc x·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ thinking about…reader trying to break up with yandere gojo  

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; dub con; lovesick gojo & he’s obsessive/toxic about it; he’s mean but yummy, okay?; size kink (ish?); gojo showing off his strength; sex without protection

notes: I had this written as an idea right after I wrote my hc’s for the jjk men in their yandere version. twylm readers, please forgive me for not posting the next chapter. I am working on it but I am really struggling - I had the worst burn out after the last chapter, and have been having a hard time trying to get back into the story >.< 

wc: 1,228

gojo plays with the hem of your skirt - the flat expression on his face telling you that he’s listening but appears unbothered by your statement. you can see the annoyance in his eyes, the irritation that you would say something so ridiculous in the middle of a make out session. 

his hands find the back of your thighs and with one swift motion he pulls you over his long legs so you’re hovering above his lap. the imbalance forces you to clutch onto his shirt with frustration, and he mindlessly reaches to undo his belt before tugging your underwear aside with his long, slender digits. 

“toru, are you listening to me?” you whisper in a small voice. 

Keep reading

[agojo]

Escarmiento: Part Two- Miguel O’hara x fem!spider reader

a/n- i have no clue how his fangs or venom work, but just pretend like how i wrote it makes sense. also, this is very long but i didn’t want to write three parts :^

warnings- smut, predator/prey dynamics, spanking, edging, degradation, explicit language, size kink, biting, paralytic venom, mean/rough sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, aftercare, soft miggy after he realizes he was an ass

translations at the bottom!

—————————————————————————

Colors flashed in your peripheral as you darted alongside Miles, your arms burning from the amount of swings you had to pull off, just to get some distance between the hundreds of people around you.

Sure, running may not have been the smartest thing to do, but, you did have a plan. It wasn’t the easiest to pull off, and you’d probably end up being berated by Miguel, but Miles was your priority, and your husband was usually a sane man when it came to you. Usually.

As if he wanted to prove your logic wrong, Miguel’s yells rang from behind you, his voice laced with pure anger as you slipped from his grasp a multitude of times. You were both very fast, but he was a monster. It was like trying to escape death, his claws almost catching your suit, the image of his fangs gleaming in your memories.

“Miles!” you yelled to the boy swinging a few feet ahead of you, his body stalling for you to sync with his movements. “We’ll draw them out-” you panted, your surroundings becoming familiar, recognizable to the entrance of headquarters, “-and when they’re gone, get to the machine, and go home.”

Web after web shot at you, red and blue of all kinds clouding your vision as you maneuvered around gloved hands and swinging limbs. “Y/n,” that familiar voice shouted again, trying to pull your attention away from the obstacles in front of you. “Stop running-” you heard Miguel growl under his breath, the ear splitting sound of shredding steel hitting your senses as he literally tore through walls to get to you.

He had never ever scared you before, but with his feral strength directed at you instead of a casual villain, true fear coaxed its way through your veins. You were his prey. That’s the thought that repeatedly flashed in your mind. He was hunting you and there was inevitably, no escape.

Flicking your wrist, your webbing shot to the upper beams above the training area, pulling you through the air, a panicking Miles right at your side. That particular choice was probably not the best decision, a horde of waiting spider people coming into sight as soon as you appeared through the floor.

Interrupting the frozen crowd, two glowing webs broke through the air to pull a very rage filled Miguel up after you, your feet stepping back to scurry in the opposite direction towards the glistening wall of windows. You could feel him right at your heels, his breathing ragged, a whoosh of air hitting your back, the only explanation being his claws trying to swipe at you.

Dropping into a perch-like position, you ducked a particularly harsh swing, Miguel’s body already moving too fast to stop, his large form smashing through a lower window. Miles went right along with him, leaving you to a room of people just itching to please their boss. That was until your foot was pulled from under you, a familiar web wrapped around your ankle pulling your body to the floor and out the shattered window.

You’d never gotten used to free falling, your stomach wound in knots as the air whipped past you, your wrist helplessly flailing to find some kind of structure to attach to. The web stuck to your ankle was tugged, harshly, pulling you down towards none other than your husband.

Miles was lone gone, his own fleet of spiders chasing him down, leaving you to fend for yourself. Shooting your web to a passing car, your body was caught between two forces, Miguel watching as you cried out in pain, a frustrated groan leaving his lips as he cut his web loose, letting you go. You knew that’d make him buckle, see, he didn’t want to hurt you, no, he just wanted to catch you.

Slinging to the flying car, you were glued to the roof, eyes peeled to search for Miles, your sense lighting up at the sound of Miguel hurling himself from car to car to get to you. A yelp left your lips as two sets of web-patterned arms wrapped around you, one set grabbing your legs to pin you, the other holding your midriff, squeezing all the air from your lungs. Your legs helplessly kicked against them, body bucking in their hold to get away until a rough yell resounded. “Leave her,” Miguel shouted, his fangs extending, eyes tracking their hold on you. “Ella es mía.”

Squirming out of their grasp, you swung to the train-like contraption holding the roadway, Miguel’s suit in your peripheral, his form hurtling towards you, leaving no room to escape. You landed first, crawling along the top of the silver train, Miguel’s claws scratching behind, tearing the metal in their wake.

“Miguel, please-” you panted, your eyes wide as they looked down at him, his mask dissolving to reveal crimson eyes and furrowed eyebrows set on you. “He’s just a kid,” you pleaded, your muscles aching with exhaustion as you climbed away from him. A growl left the lips of your lover, his unbeaten endurance still strong, claws pulling him right towards you and your struggling form.

His hand closed around your ankle, pulling you down until his arms caged you, your back was pressed to his broad chest, hands pinned down by his own, preventing you from using your webs. “All you had to do was listen,” he muttered in your ear, a pained gasp leaving your lips as four sharp prongs sank into your neck, his fangs burying themselves into your skin. Warm liquid flowed from them, eliciting a burning sensation throughout your limbs that slowly turned into numbness.

You could still talk and move, albeit barely, most likely because your husband didn’t want you completely paralyzed, but you couldn’t escape his grasp, his strong arms lifting you until you were slung over his shoulder, lax limbs completely subject to his movements.

“Lyla, send everyone after Miles,” his voice was gruff as he swung off the train, you in one arm, his weight carried by a web in the other. “I’ll handle her.”

———

By the time the paralytic venom wore off, you found yourself at the door of your shared bedroom, Miguel grabbing you from his shoulder and pushing you inside, your legs wobbling slightly from the strange sensation. Shutting it suspiciously lightly, Miguel rested his forehead against the cold panels of the door, your weak legs already positioning you at the other end of the room.

“Miguel, I- I was just trying to help..”

His body went taut at your words, his back rigid, muscles shifting as he turned to look at you. You almost cowered at the sight of him, his eyes a deeper red than you’ve ever seen, his lips pulling back to reply, revealing four-sharp teeth still extended.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his pupils dilating into a deep black, almost consuming his whole iris. “All you needed to do was listen to me, and you went and disobeyed a direct order.”

“You’re my husband, not my master..” you muttered under your breath, his breath catching at your little retort, anger lacing his features. “He’s just a kid, Miguel, you’re being too harsh.”

“Harsh..?” He went still at your words, an exasperated laugh leaving his lips as his eyebrows rose. “I’ll show you harsh,” he said under his breath, shoulders squaring to show his full height, long legs making their way to you in easy strides. Your mouth went dry at his words, feet stepping carefully to back away from him, his approaching steps pushing you further and further until your back hit the wall.

“Miguel wait-” your words were cut off as his large hand closed around your wrist, wrenching you towards the bed, your heels digging into the ground. With a battle of limbs, you found yourself atop his knees, your stomach pressing against his strong legs, his fingers gently caressing your bottom. Your hips wiggled, legs struggling to get away at the implication of his hand. “You can’t run now, cariño,” he growled, sharp claws cutting through the fabric of your suit exposing your ass and legs to his preying eyes.

Long fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down to reveal your soft skin, fingers tracing every inch, his touch disappearing for a second before returning in the form of a harsh slap, a yelp leaving your lips at the scorching sensation blooming along your bottom.

His hand continued its assault, your legs shaking in his hold. “Poca pucha, just couldn’t listen could you,” he gritted out, palm smacking and smacking relentlessly until your ass was flaming red, choked cries spewing from your lips as you pleaded for him to stop.

He didn’t listen though, every spank leaving a new mark on your skin, red handprints painting your bottom half as your hands clawed at his ankles. “M-Miguel please! I’m s-sorry,” you squirmed, hips bucking until he landed a particularly rough slap against your skin. “Stay still,” he grunted, hands pushing your hips down as he repeatedly spanked you, tears rolling down your cheeks and onto his lap.

You were hiccuping now, so distressed your cries caught in your throat, your bottom raw and red, so sore it stung, the feeling of fire consuming you with even the smallest touch. His hand relented when he heard you muttering ‘i’m sorry’ like a mantra, the rough pads of his fingers gently massaging your inflamed bottom.

Miguel tutted at your soft cries, rubbing your skin as his other hand spread your legs. “Mírate-” he whispered, fingers dipping to scoop up your liquids, spreading your folds, “puta chorrea.” Without any preparation, he stuffed two fingers into your cunt, a choked gasp leaving your lips as he immediately started to curl his fingers into you, throwing you straight into the grasps of pleasure it was almost painful.

His thick fingers nudged at every pleasurable spot inside of you, your walls sucking him in greedily despite your current distaste of your husband. Every curl and poke elicited a whine from you, your body shivering as it neared climax, cunt pulsing around his fingers as a tell tale sign. Before you could release, Miguel pulled his fingers from you, large hands grabbing your waist to throw you on the bed.

You couldn’t even process the loss of pleasure before he was tearing the rest of your suit off and pushing your back into an impossible arch, your inflamed ass stuck in the air as his hands grabbed onto your hips. “Wait Mig-” all air was pushed out of your lungs as he sheathed himself in you with one thrust, the stretch causing a burn to ignite in your cunt.

His palm never left your back as he thrusted in and out at a brutal pace, soft groans leaving his lips, his strong legs slamming into the back of your thighs. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, your mewls and pleas muffled by the pillow Miguel shoved your face into, his fingers cradling the crown of your head to keep you still.

His cock was so thick and long, you felt it hit an unknown area every time he pushed into you, and without normal foreplay, the stretch was insane. Your walls pulsed with the struggle to take him, the ring of muscles at the entrance of your cunt visible as it wrapped around his shaft to suck him in.

Caught up in pleasure himself, Miguel leaned down to cage you in his arms, chest pressed to your back in a primal, animal-like position, his muscled arms placed on both sides of your head, hips never relenting with their intense thrusts.

“Too harsh, arañita?” he whispered into your ear, his teeth pulling at your earlobe, lips sucking at your neck as you trembled beneath him, your voice too hoarse from crying to respond. Heavy balls slapped against your cunt, Miguel’s thrusts becoming harder as you recognized his own tells of an orgasm. His ab muscles rippled against your back, his claws started to emerge, his breathing turned ragged, and he always kissed somewhere on your body, this time being your shoulder.

Groaning into the nook of your shoulder and neck, Miguel released inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum painting every inch of your cunt, his hips stuttering to push every last drop into you while you tipped over the edge, your climax small and sudden, cunt sucking his juices in as you released your own, clenching around his spent cock.

Catching his breath, Miguel pulled out of you slowly, ears catching the pained whimper you let out, eyes looking down to watch as his white liquid poured from your hole. Your hips slumped and rested against the bed, your face still hidden by the pillow as you caught your breath, exhausted and extremely sore.

It was like he’d been clouded with lust and anger the whole time, because as he looked at your trembling form, the clear feeling of guilt consumed him. As careful as possible, he collected as many soothing ingredients he could find from the bathroom; a cold washcloth, calming lotion, and water all included.

Kneeling on the bed, his hands gently moved to prop your hips up, a choked out ‘no’ leaving your lips, your fear quickly extinguished by his soft, cooed words. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, wiping the washcloth along your irritated folds and your inner thighs, cleaning up any excess liquids. Taking your reddened bottom into his hands, he smoothed and rubbed lotion onto you, the tender skin of your ass slowly becoming soothed by the cool substance.

Kissing up your spine, Miguel stroked your hair, his hand tilting your head to be able to see your face, his heart dropping at the sight of your red eyes, tear stained cheeks, and lack of speaking. “Oh- mi amor..” he murmured, strong arms pulling you onto his chest (careful not to nudge your bottom) as he rubbed your back, a quiet sigh leaving your lips at the feeling.

“I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you,” his voice was filled with regret, leaving a kiss to your head as you hummed your agreement. “I-” he pursed his lips, releasing a sigh as he struggled to say a certain admission, “I may have been a little too harsh on him.”

A breathy laugh resounded against his chest, your hoarse voice a relief to his ears as your tired eyes looked up to meet his own, “you think?”

—————————————————————————

ella es mía- she’s mine

cariño- sweetheart

poca pucha- little cunt

mírate- look at you

puta chorrea- fucking dripping

arañita- little spider

mi amor- my love

[agojo]

Tears in my eyes rn 🥹

hey i was the one who requested the e42miles angst and i love your writing. do you think you could write something where miguel breaks up with reader because they’re gonna disrupt her canon. maybe she’s supposed to fall in love with peter parker on her earth? i just want absolutely heartbreaking angst, maybe it can be a blurb like the miles one.

aaahh im glad you liked the miles one and i hope you like this! im kinda iffy about it. THIS IS VERY UNEDITED SO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES.

you’re losing me

© msgorillagripcoochie , do not steal or translate my work

“are you…are you breaking up with me right now?” your voice breaks, your nails digging into your palms as you watched miguel. he cleared his throat as he tried to find his words and you wanted him to say something, to laugh and say this was a joke. something.

jess gave you an apologetic look “i’ll see you when you’re done.” jess patted miguel’s shoulder before she went through the portal. there’s a pause of silence “miguel…i’m going with you, right?” you hated the tears blurring your vision before you had even said anything.

“you can’t.” he said avoiding your gaze, he looked down at the floor. “what?” you’re taken aback as you stare at him and he cleared his throat “i’m sorry, i’ve been through this before and you can’t- we can’t disrupt the canon.” his finally dragged up to yours and there you could see the faint tears in his eyes “are you serious? you’re making this decision all by yourself?”

“you’re supposed to fall in love with peter parker.” he cleared his throat “by me being with you, it will stop you from falling for him.” his voice is low, it’s almost sounds as hurt as you. “what if i don’t want to fall in love with peter?”

“that’s the problem.”

“so what do you want me to do? i have no one here, i’m just supposed to magically fall in love with peter parker and forget about you?” he doesn’t respond, he can’t, reaching out his hand “give me your wristband, y/n.” you hold your hand to your chest in disbelief, holding the wristband against you “you can’t do this! you can’t make this decision for me! this relationship is only half yours.” miguel shakes his head.

“just give it to me!” his voice raises as he tries to sound angry “i can’t let you keep it, you know too many loopholes so give it to me!”

“or what!?” you shoot back not faltering under his dark gaze “this is for the best.”

“you don’t get to decide what’s for the best, okay?” you scoff “i love you.” you admitted in a low whisper “i love you.” miguel’s heart’s racing because that’s all he ever wanted to hear from you but this couldn’t happen. he doesn’t say anything once again and it makes you angry.

“you don’t feel anything for me? is that what you’re going to say now? that all of this is fake?” you threw your hands up as miguel picked his words, he took a step forward “i do love you.” he let out a low chuckle, he reached his hand out brushing some of your hair away from your face pulling you forward leaning his head against yours.

“i love you.” he promised, you smiled placing your hand on his chest “then let’s try, we can figure this all out.” he lifted his head up pressing a kiss to your forehead and you shut your eyes at the feeling.

when you felt his hand tighten around your wrist “miguel.”

“i’m sorry.” he begins to try and test the wristband off “let me go!”

“i’m relieving you of your job.” he said finally ripping the wristband from your wrist pushing you back“miguel, please!”

“i’m sorry” his large hand engulfs your band.

“stop” you’re begging him through your tears as you realize he’s going to break it “you guys are all i have! please.” you stared into his eyes, the eyes you had grown to love and cherish.

“i’m sorry, mi querida.” he crushed it easily in the palm of his hand as you visibly slump before gulping “i’ll find a way, miguel.” you force a smile “you’re not going to get rid of me.” your smile is turning into a frown. he knows you’re right, you’ve never been the type to give up.

so he has to make sure you will…even if you hate him.

“i am.” you’re confused before he pushes past you making you fall back on the bed and you don’t realize what he’s doing until he rips open the other door to where your spiderwoman gadgets and suit lay by your computer on your desk “no!”

you scream trying to run to him but he pushes you back onto the floor as he begins to break all of your things “no! please!” the crushing sounds of the your things mixes with the sound of your breaking heart as you beg him to stop

and finally you think he’s done until he grabs you suit, the suit you had made with him. you shake your head as he looked back at you for a moment “please.” you pleaded “i won’t come back.” you’re promising and he wants to believe it.

but he knows he can’t.

“i’ll make sure you won’t.” and right in front of you, he tears your suit in half like it’s nothing but a piece of paper. you cover your mouth in low gasp as he turns to you chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths.

for the first time…you looked at miguel like you hated him. you scramble to your feet “i hate you!” you hit him as hard as you could “fuck you!” he let’s you. he let’s you punch and push him until you finally give up dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“i don’t want you to get hurt.” he bends down and reaches out to touch you but you pull back glaring at the man “don’t worry miguel, you’ve hurt me enough to save the universe, right?” he stands to his full height and he wished you’d understand “y/n-“

“just go.” you shake your head and he sighs clicking buttons on his wristband, the portal opening before he looked at you one last time “it’s for the best.”

“if you think that then you’ve truly never loved me.” his heart feels like it’s being rip out of his chest but he doesn’t turn back leaving her behind. his chest is still heaving when he arrives and all he can see is your face “is everything okay?” jess’s voice brings him back and he blinked a few times.

“she won’t be coming back.” he said plainly. jess opened her mouth to ask what happened “it’s over already, let’s just focus.”

he couldn’t stop thinking about your face and the way you looked at him like he was a monster and maybe he was for doing this to you but he had to.

he needed to.

a/n: uh idk if i liked this too much ☹️ i hate it actually 😭 but i’m sure it’ll grow on me. anyways requests are open!

[agojo]

NSFW request please! Could we get Miguel cockwarming his Spider!fem!S/O while they’re both still in their spider costumes? He couldn’t help it with how great she looked fighting some bad guys!

miguel o’hara x spider!fem! reader

ANON THIS IS SO SEXY. THE SPIDERSUIT IS ALWAYS AN A+ PLUS FOR ANYBODY WEARING IT, LIKE LOOK AT MIGUEL’S ASS LMAO. but anyways, cockwarming, hehe, i love you anon. <3 i added a lil sexual frustration into the mix ; ) cuz i felt like that would be so miguel lolz.

nsfw under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

for as long as he had known you, miguel never had once experience this more intense feeling that he ever felt following the years you two had been together. you were spider-woman, as of many others but you were his spider-woman what mattered. and jesus, he thinks, as he stares at you with this embarrassing bloom inside of his mask whilst you’re swinging and kicking some couple of brutes causing havoc around nueva york. eyes strained solely on you as he merely grips his opponent’s neck tighter, not noticing how he was choking the poor man. the only question in his mind arousing as he tries to shake it off.

why did you have to wear that suit today?

he gulps, watching how you flex your each move as your ass kind of jiggled when you jumped. the tight-skin spider suit you were wearing made it worse as he feels the blood rush down to his trousers— or tights per-say. it was the suit he made specifically for you, similar to his color palette but overall suited your previous style perfectly. and he can’t help it, you just… just looked so fucking good kicking ass when your tits and ass are hugged tightly by your spidey-suit. he lets out a shaky sigh, still gripping the man’s neck not until someone interrupts his oogling.

“ahem! miguel? we got a couple of more coming in! maybe ogle later?” lyla flashes immediately in front of his face, he doesn’t notice the smirk right away from his assistant’s face as he focuses back on the mission, still glancing at you with sudden frustrating feeling clawing at the back of his neck and his crotch. he dodges an incoming bullet as it slightly grazes his shoulder making him wince, annoyed he got lost on focus.

“i know!” miguel grits his teeth as lyla disappears. he gazes hard on you as you suddenly felt your spidey-senses tingle as you glance at miguel, who merely glares again making you wave innocently at him in greeting as you bashed some thug’s head to the ground.

what was with him? you think, a little confused. huh.

•••

there was something definitely going on with him.

“you feel now what you’re doing to me, huh? speak, my love.” he whispers harshly against your ear, both of his arms wrapped around your waist as your body arches when he sinks you deeper on his cock. you gasp out, your mask thrown somewhere, discarded as the bottom piece of your suit was pushed down to your ankles while your top stayed on you uncomfortably. he was a menace when the two of you got back, immediately dragging you with his attitude to meet him in his lab for a ‘briefing’ for the next mission across the multiverse he says… but nope.

this. this certainly wasn’t you were expecting for a briefing. being tortured and cockwarmed for how many minutes you can’t remember since he fucked an orgasm into you roughly a while ago. his spent cum still nestling in you, painting your tight walls and his still hard cock inside you as well. he looked absolutely wrecked and pent-up when he murmured something about you in his suit that he made when he roughly groped your ass when he got his hands on you alone. you weren’t complaining! just that you wished he’d moved right now feeling the tip of his cock hit your cervix making you squirm again uncontrollably.

“miguel, please, it’s—“ you pleaded, moaning as he cups your breasts, massaging them with his big hands as you leaned your head on his big shoulder, whining loudly “‘is not fair.”

“not fair, hermosa? what wasn’t fair was you looking too good in this fucking suit.” he says with a chuckle, kissing your neck, nipping it lightly, fangs grazing your skin as you felt yourself shiver at the feeling of danger on your neck. you moved your hips a little, desperate for the movement of his cock thrusting into you but miguel was relentless. his way of punishing you when you literally think you didn’t do anything wrong! not his fault he couldn’t keep his dick calm around you.

“mhm, nu-uh, mamí. be a good girl for me and warm my cock up.” he slaps your thighs in warning sending shockwaves to your core along with your favorite nickname he has for you. gripping the meat of your thighs harshly as he chuckles when you swear at him with your cock-drunken mind. the feel of his cum in you, making you feel sticky and satiated at the same time was driving you nuts when his huge prick is filling you up to the brim, you can’t help it anymore, you need him.

“miguel, fuck you.” you whine again as he kisses your cheek. you can’t help but grin as you wiggle your hips again as you clench around him to tease him a bit to see what he’ll do. miguel smirks, grabbing your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he sets a final warning for you and your brattiness with a promise of a good fuck later. just that he wants to savor this moment a lil longer when he finally rips your suit to pieces that he can always make one for you after this.

“stay still or you’ll regret it.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

listen, i wouldn’t mind my cause of 💀 be miguel’s cock— 😽🤭 ALSO MIGUEL CALLING US MAMÍ HAD ME ON MY KNEES RN *pats my shoulder* <3

[agojo]

vox tenebris

— vox tenebris; the voice of darkness

When the King of the Incubi summons you to his altar, what other choice do you have but to submit?

➴ pairing: sukuna x f!reader

➴ genre: gothic!AU

➴ tags/warnings: incubus king!sukuna, cum on command, choking, spitting, mild exhibitionism, dirty talk, sacrilege, corruption kink, f. oral receiving, marking, demon haunting, non/con (cumming inside without permission), mentions of child abuse, religious abuse, mentions of exorcisms, use of restraints (both sexually and, uh, non-consensually), HUGE themes of blasphemy pls don’t read if you are religious 

➴ a/n: because this whole playlist is a whole ass mood

It has been said that idle minds are the Devil’s playground and Sukuna partly agrees. 

Keep reading

[agojo]

WORRIED FOR YOU! -

⤷ in which; dating a guy with a personality like gojo's was hard, but even harder when he get's into fight's whenever a guy looks at you the wrong way, or gets on his nerves and your not there to stop him

⤷ ft; gojo satorou

⤷ wc; 489

⤷ warnings; mentions of blood, fighting, gojo's personality. modern au! jus word vommit tbh

your phone buzzed violently for the fifth time, on your nightstand. or at least you thought it was the fifth time, you didn't count. it was 2:46 am you were tired but you had to finish some work. ignoring the buzzing you continued typing away on your laptop, the clicking overlapping the buzzing, you didn't want to pick up, you couldn't even talk if you wanted too. (if you dont know what i mean, yk those times your tired and you wanna say somin but nothing will leave your mouth??)

after a couple second's of buzzing you now hear: the continuing sounds of notifications.

shutting your laptop harshly you got up to get water, hopefully you can speak after drinking it, and get energy.

gulping down the water you placed it down, the blanket draped over your body. blinking every 0.9 seconds. suddenly you heard repeated banging on your door. did god hate you that much? walking towards the stupid fucking door you opened it. revealing gojo you one and only boyfriend: his eye was purple and blue, his nose bleeding, his knuckles where red some blood dripping down, there was a little bit of blood on his white hoodie, paired with black sweatpants.

"gojo?" you questioned, as he took a step towards you kneeling in hugging you tightly, the blanket falling of. you pulled him away. "what did you do this time gojo?!"

"oh! yea! so i heard a dude talking about how hot you are to his friends and he said some really bad things on what he would do to you so i punched him and got in a fight at the club" he said, he sounded drunk which would work because he was at a club.

"oh my god gojo i hate when you get into fights, it doesn't matter what he was saying" you stated. holding his hand and dragging him along, the tiredness gone as you were too worried for your idiotic boyfriend. taking him to the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet as you opened the cabinet looking for the first aid.

"stupid gojo" you mumbled. "excuse me? you know how much that hurts to hear from your OWN girlfriend?" he asked, tilting his head. "no, because im not stupid?"

he let out a laugh, as you put a finger over his mouth so you could bandage him. you gave him a look, not daring to speak nor did he. you began bandaging his knuckles, and helping him stop the bleeding from his nose in silence. once you finished you got up. "you need to stop getting hurt gojo." you said.

"you know how worried i get?! stop being an idiot!" you yelled. "im sorry.." he lowered his gaze.

you immediately felt bad, for some reason. he was only defending you wasn't he?

"its ok just please stop?"

he nodded, as you hugged him snuggling your head into his neck.

[agojo]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 ! 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒!

eren yeager x fem!reader

cw: pregnancy, car sex, dicking sucking, pussy eating, pregnancy, marriage, children, etc etc

DILF!EREN ! who gets all the moms ovulating when he comes to pick up his baby boy from kindergarten

DILF!EREN ! who fucks you in the car really quickly before leaving for that grueling parent-teacher conference

"w-were gonna be late" you moan into his chest as his hips slap against yours, cock hitting deeper and deeper into you

"whatever, all they're gonna say is he played with blocks and crayons" he chuckled, finding your lips and catching them with a kiss and his thumb rubbing your clit as you cum around his cock.

DILF!EREN ! who has his dick in your mouth and it isn't even 7.

"fuuuck" he groans, watching your lazy eyes lap at his tip which is drizzling pre out, his cock standing on its own as veins pulsate and strain.

your mouth is so wet and warm, mumble about how you wanted him to have a good day at work and just started sucking.

DILF!EREN ! who eats you out mid-day because he's always horny and wants to see you moan and cry for him

DILF!EREN ! just walks up to you, wraps his arms around you and kisses up your neck, and just spews complements daily

"you're so fucking gorgeous" "I don't even know how I got you"

DILF!EREN ! who, after very hard consideration. (he never not thought about it, he was just waiting for you to bring it up) decided that it was time for you two to bring another baby into this world

"wasnt I already doing that?" he says matter-of-factly, grinning into your shoulder as you both lay in bed together

"eren!"

DILF!EREN ! who cries when your baby girl is born, and praises you daily for giving him his son and daughter, he loves you all so dearly and is truly grateful for everything.

[agojo]

Hello

[agojo]

i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love

⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending

it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.

nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.

he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.

maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...

yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.

"I missed you so much my love..."

familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.

"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.

you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.

he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.

not that you're complaining about it.

your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.

"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."

his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.

"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.

he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.

"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.

he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.

"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.

he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.

"you're still not on birth control?"

and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.

"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"

you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.

"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.

your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.

"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.

you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.

"I'm here now, I won't leave."

he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

this time you both won't let go of each other.

jjk masterlist

[agojo]

Gojo as apology for being gone

[agojo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: You're slowly losing yourself for him, but that's okay because you love him.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Toxic Relationship, Toxic/Yanderish Gojo, Semi-Public Sex, Jealousy, Face Fucking, Bathroom Sex, Facial, Vaginal Sex, Car Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

Before you met Satoru, you were so independent. You were your own person. So happy and full of life. That’s something that has changed though. Your friends– The little amount that you have left, don’t recognize you.

Shrugging off and ignoring them was your response because in your eyes, you hadn’t changed one bit. You were still the same woman. At least that’s what you think. You don’t see anything different when you look in the mirror, instead you see yourself even more beautiful, at least your boyfriend compliments how beautiful you look. But it’s not physical. 

“That red lipstick doesn’t look good on you, change it.” Satoru orders and you nod. It’s times like this when you understand what they mean. Before you would’ve refused and started an argument, but now you just nod in response. You blindly take any orders from him because you want to be his perfect girl.

You change the red lipstick to a nude one, and he likes it. He compliments you on it, but then he feels like the dress shows a bit too much skin. He bites down on his lip as he looks you over. You’re looking for your purse, asking him, “Babe, are you almost ready to go?”

“You know, baby, I think that dress is too revealing.” He stands up from the couch and walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you from behind. Satoru’s lips go up to your ear and ever-so-softly he speaks, “You wouldn’t want them to get the wrong impression of you, would you?”

“Is it? I’m sorry.” You apologize and walk back to the bedroom to change. A year ago you would’ve started an argument– Not exactly an argument but you would’ve stood your ground. The dress isn’t too revealing. Not even close. 

You’re just so helplessly in love with Satoru, the thought of him being mad at you makes you nauseous. You just want to be the ideal woman for him, and you fear that refusing to do something for him will cause a dent in your relationship. While you change your dress to a more modest one, you begin to understand why your friends tell you that you’ve changed. However, you try to push the thought to the back of your mind.

“Alright, I’m ready.” You walk out of your room and to him. He smiles at you and he compliments your new dress. He loves it. He loves the fact that you’re wrapped around his finger and you’ll do just about anything for him. He’s trained you well.

“Let’s go.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you the whole time, while you speak to his friends. You’re at a baby shower, Suguru, Satoru’s best friend, is expecting. You’re talking to Inès, Suguru’s wife, asking how she’s preparing for the baby. You wish to expand your family someday, and of course you’re curious. Satoru doesn’t mind. He likes when you get along with his friends. Gives him a chance to distance you from your current friends.

Satoru can’t pay full attention to his conversation with Suguru when you walk away and go to another one of his friends. A male one. Satoru bites down his lip, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches you. You seem to be getting too friendly with Kento to his liking. Satoru’s anger rises just watching the interaction. His blood begins to boil, but he has to remain calm. He clears his throat before saying, “Excuse me, I have to do something.”

He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you. He wants to make sure that Kento gets the message that you’re not single. Satoru hugs you from behind and kisses your cheek, “Honey, what are you doing?”

“Just talking with your friend.” You answer, and Kento looks inquisitively at you two. Kento decides to walk away, feeling uncomfortable under Satoru’s gaze. He begins to walk away and Satoru kisses your cheek again. His lips go to your ear again,

“What did you think you were doing?” He asks, the tone of his voice sending a chill down your spine. He grabs your hand and begins to lead you somewhere. You follow blindly, a bit confused as to what he means. He drags you to the bathroom and locks the door. “Get on your knees.”

He pushes you down onto the floor, and you do as he says. He unbuckles his belt and begins to push down his pants. You look up at him, trying to figure out why he’s upset. You didn’t do anything. You bite down on your lip until he pulls out his cock. You lick your lips and you’re about to do what you usually do, but he slaps the tip against your cheek, “You’re such a fucking slut. All you can think about is dick. Is that why you were talking to Nanami?”

“No.” You shake your head, looking at him with doe-eyes. He taps your cheek with his dick again, before he moves it to your lips. He presses the tip against your lips before you open your mouth. His cock enters your mouth and he shoves as much as he can into your mouth. You gag on his cock, tears forming in your eyes.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re a dirty little slut.” He tries to suppress any noise that hints to pleasure, but it’s hard for him to do so. He wants to degrade you without showing how you’re making him feel good. “You were begging to– To fuck him.”

Saotru begins to move his hips, fucking your mouth. Drool covers your chin, and tears stream down your cheeks. You look up at him, checking to see if you’re satisfying him even though you’re not doing anything. Your mouth is pleasing him, but it’s not your own work. He moves his hips and sets the pace.

“You have such a nice mouth.” He ends up moaning. His balls smack against your chin when he thrusts into your mouth. “You wanted to do this with him, right?”

You obviously can’t respond. Maybe it’s just your boyfriend that gets himself off like this, but you want to defend yourself just in case he gets upset. But he’s enjoying himself so he can’t get upset. “Love your mouth.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Satoru bites down his lip. He sighs in annoyance, but he keeps thrusting in and out of your mouth. He groans before he yells, “Occupied.”

Apparently the person on the other side of the door didn’t hear, and they attempt to open the door. They knock once again and Satoru takes his cock out of your mouth. He pounds on the door and yells, “Didn’t you hear me tell you it was occupied?!”

You remain on your knees, your face a mess. Your makeup is all over the place while drool and tears stream down your face. Satoru grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head back. He slaps your cheek with his cock again, “Who do you think that is? Huh? Your little side piece?”

“I don’t– I don’t–” You begin and Satoru brings his lips together before he spits on you. You’re taken back by it. He begins to stroke himself.

“I don’t like a lying bitch. You’ll look better with your mouth shut.” He says, as he fucks himself with his fist. You do as he says, although you’re not lying. You wait for him to finish, and within a minute, his cum lands all over your face. He grabs his phone and takes a picture of you, a picture that he won’t… he might share with a couple of people.

“Clean up. I’ll wait for you in the car.” 

After coming out of the bathroom with a bare-face, after coming to the house with a full-face of makeup, you go to the car where Satoru waits in the driver’s seat. He taps his fingers angrily against the wheel. He’s calming himself down. You get into the passenger’s seat and immediately speak,

“There’s nothing going on between me and Nanami.” You claim, and Satoru looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Clearly upset, but you don’t understand why he’s upset.

“Then what were you doing?” He raises a brow. He bites down on his tongue and he flares his nostrils. You’re nearly crying thinking that you’ve upset him because you don’t want to make him mad in any way. You just want to be the perfect woman for him. 

“He’s married, ‘Toru. Don’t you remember Macy? She’s there with him.” You tell him, and he doesn’t respond. That really doesn’t mean anything. Maybe Kento is thinking about cheating on his wife. “He’s a dad. I wanted to see how much his life has changed.”

“Why do you want to know that?” He asks, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. You end up sighing before muttering,

“I want to have kids with you someday.” His eyes widen before a smirk appears on his face. His hand lands on your lap and it goes under your dress. He begins to rub your pussy over your panties and his lips begin to kiss your jaw. 

“Is that really what you wanted? You should have said so.” He says. You’re about to tell him that he didn’t give you a chance, but you know better. He’s working just right, and the heat rushes to your face as he touches you. “I’ll gladly give you a baby.”

His lips go to yours, and his tongue invades your mouth. His tongue presses against yours while his fingers push your panties to the side. He runs two fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you are. He pulls away from the kiss, “Get on my lap.”

He unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants again. You crawl over to his side and get on his lap, facing him. He has the most beautiful eyes, a pair that you’d be scared to lose. The effect he has on you is weird. You’ve never felt like this before.

You don’t care if you have to change every aspect of your personality, as long as you get to be with him. 

Satoru runs the tip through your folds before he presses it against your entrance. He slowly pushes his cock into your cunt, and you softly moan as he fills you up. He pulls you into a sloppy kiss when he bottoms out. 

You begin to move, knowing that he likes it when you take some sort of control during sex. You shut your eyes as you take him all in. You’re right outside Suguru’s house, and people are walking out. They can see you as you ride him, but you don’t care.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Satoru says while you bounce on top of him, knowing that you’re at your lowest while he’s inside of you. He’s moaning with you, feeling so good while you’re wrapped around him. “Will you forgive me?”

“Yes, baby.” You respond. Even if you weren’t fucking him, you would’ve forgiven him. You just love him so much. “I’m sorry– For making you worry.”

“It’s okay.” He responds, moving for you. He sets a pace that’s much faster than the one that you had. “You feel so good.”

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you move a hand down to play with your clit while he moves in and out of you. Your cunt tightens around him as your orgasm builds up. “Satoru–”

“Oh, your pussy is so good.” He moans. You keep moaning his name, your orgasm getting closer and closer. “You want a baby?”

“Want a baby.” You respond. You loudly moan as you reach your high, and Satoru keeps rapidly thrusting in and out of you.

“Gonna give you a baby. Give you as many as you want.” He rambles as he nears his release. He keeps telling you how he'll give you as many babies as he wants until a groan escapes his throat and he comes inside of you. 

He stays buried inside of you, and he presses his forehead against yours. His hand caresses your cheek and says, “I’m sorry for being so tough on you, baby. I just want the best of you.”

“I know. I love you.” You answer.

“I love you too.”

You’re so dependent on him, and your old self would have hated you for it. But she wouldn’t understand that you’re helplessly in love. You just want to be the kind of girl he likes. Even if it means completely losing yourself. You’ll do just about anything for him.

🏷 @cactustattoo @sanzusblkgf @dearsunaa @mykyoon @tojidilfs @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @galactict3a @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @tamaki-jiki @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @kageyamaslittleroyal20 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas @witchofoe @sarcasticallydrowning @dilfs-lover @celi-xxmoon @missyasma @lem-hhn

[agojo]

Dirty Little Secret

Taglist • Ao3 • Social Media • Discord 18+ • Masterlists • chapter 2

↳ 1 | Unholy

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Gojo Satoru is many things: family man, politician, someone the public believes they can trust. It’s how he’s gotten where he is in life. Hidden beneath the façade is a man with many guilty pleasures – you being one of them.

words: 7.3k

cw: explicit drugs use, mention of alcohol, infidelity (not on reader), vaginal fingering, rough sex, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding kink, degradation, dacryphilia, exhibitionism

an: This was just going to be a oneshot based on the song "Unholy" by Sam Smith, but then I had an idea for a small part 2

His wife probably thought she was the luckiest woman in the world when he got down on one knee, professed his love and said he wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side.

She probably felt even luckier, everything going according to their life plan when she found out she was pregnant with his children, starting a loving family with one of the most prominent politicians Tokyo has to offer.

She’d kick him out if she ever knew the way you stand between his legs, moving your shoulders, chest and hips to the beat of the bass blasting in the club. The way his eyes watch your hands trailing the length of your body before putting his own on your skin.

She’d divorce him on the spot if she knew the way you grind on his hips, the way his fingers caress every inch of your skin when he comes to see you.

She would never let him touch her again if she knew how he touched you, in all the ways she won’t let him do to her, in all the ways he really wants, the ways he enjoys.

Of course you’re aware of the wife - it would be impossible not to be. The picture-perfect family, an ideal trophy wife, two children. That’s his spiel, how he got into office and maintained his position over the years. He’s a father, a family man; understands the struggle and just how hard it is to maintain a happy healthy family - just like the average working person.

A politician you can trust because he’s just like you.

You’ve never seen or met her, steering clear of anything that has to do with Satoru during the day, but from your understanding he spends a lot of time with his kids when he has free time in the mornings and afternoons.

In the evenings he finds himself with you. Long legs spread wide as he sits back on the plush couch, you dropping your hips down onto his, grinding on him until you feel his cock harden from your touch.

It’s a miracle she hasn’t found out about the shit Satoru does behind her back; it’s a miracle nobody has. Sure he tries to be as discreet as possible, entering clubs through the back, paying for private rooms, private dances all the while spending thousands on sex, drugs and alcohol.

That’s how the two of you met. You were on stage, twirling, spinning and sliding your way down and around a pole in the most provocative positions. Satoru walked in with his three best friends; a man with long raven locks, one with a scar over the right side of his lip, and another with several tattoos over his face.

Satoru immediately caught your attention, with his messy hair, white as freshly fallen snow hanging over his eyes, eyes that were covered by dark square sunglasses, shielding them from your view. You watched him lick his lips, talk to your manager and head to a room in the back with his friends.

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel his gaze burning into you with every flip of your hair, shimmy of your waist and hips in his direction.

You didn’t realize who he was at this point, not that it has ever really mattered.

It started with him coming to see you, paying to have you as the lone private dancer - sometimes for just him, sometimes with his friends. He’d tip you an exorbitant amount each time, enough of you to buy the Gucci handbag you’ve had your eye on for some time.

Eventually, when he realized you figured out who he is and weren’t talking about the shit you’ve seen him do, he easily charmed you with his honeyed words and wicked ways, inviting you to continue to the party elsewhere when your performances had ended.

Satoru likes to spend money, always seems to have too much of it, if the tips he leaves you with are anything to judge him by. Always enough to buy the latest Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Versace without batting an eye.

All because you’re so good to him, he says.

He likes to get his hands on the finest white powders money can buy; likes to snort lines off your tits before rolling the remaining into dainty joints for you to smoke; likes to watch you with his own lazy, crooked smile as the smooth burn fills your lungs.

You’re consistent, staying out of his life and daily affairs. It’s part of what he likes so much about you.

You never ask for more, knowing he’s not willing to give it. It’s why he keeps coming back to you, there’s no desire to be a part of the drama that would ensue if anyone outside of his circle of friends ever found out about you.

It’s why you had no problem signing the NDA he presented on your first night out together.

Satoru knows when he needs it, you’ll be there; when he wakes in the morning, you’ll be gone. Not wanting any part of the lives you lead outside of the clubs and hotel rooms you frequently find yourselves in.

The bright lights from the city faded from the rear view mirror some time ago. Things are different tonight, seemingly calmer than you’ve ever experienced before with the man sitting to your right over the year you’ve been seeing each other.

He shifts gears while humming along to the tune playing softly in the background as the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. 

The car is extravagant. It suits him and you wouldn’t expect anything less to be honest. It’s the kind of car where the doors open up, rather than out, the leather seats are a dark black while the exterior is a stark white matching his hair.

The small space smells like a mix of his cologne, bergamot and honey, along with the perfume you always put on before going out with him.

This is the longest you’ve ever spent in his vehicle, unless he’s pulled off to the side of the road or in an abandoned parking lot either with you on his lap or spread out in the back seat as he fucks into you. 

Satoru hasn’t spoken a lot tonight, just asked if you wanted to hang out after work and ushered you into his car on an empty street like usual. Obviously he’s taking you away tonight but you’re not sure where and trying not to care too much, so you don’t ask.

Doing that would change the aloof nature of your relationship and you’re not ready for any of those dynamics to be different, nor do you think he would be receptive to it.

“I can’t stay long,” he breaks the silence first, pulling into a hotel roughly forty five minutes away on the outskirts of Tokyo, “and I need to be sober. But, you can have fun and I’ll drive you home later.”

Satoru’s never taken you home before, though with his connections and power you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where you live regardless. When you’ve stayed the night together before, you’re always up early and make sure to leave before he wakes up. Not only because you shouldn’t be with him, but also because you’ve never been one to stick around for awkward morning conversations or expectations.

You nod with a quiet “okay,” while he hands you a basic black face mask while putting on his own. He also takes off his tie, throwing it in his pocket and undoing a few of the top buttons on his shirt before putting on a matching black sock hat to cover his hair.

Stepping out of the car, you adjust your tiny black dress and hair before looping your arm in with Satoru’s making your way into the glamorous hotel, past the concierge and to the elevator.

Even when trying to be discreet, Satoru and his friends can’t help the luxuries they like to surround themselves with. He says he can’t stay and has to be sober, but that didn’t stop any of them from choosing a hotel with chandeliers, gold decor and marble floors covering every inch of the lobby.

When you get to the top floor of the hotel, there are only a few doors in the hall. Satoru knocks on one a few times before it’s quickly opened, allowing the two of you in. The space is more akin to an apartment than a hotel room - a small kitchen off to one side, a large bedroom with its own door separating the space from what serves as the living room.

There are floor to ceiling windows covering every inch of wall space, overlooking the small, lively city below. Chandeliers hang in this room too, the bathroom has similar marble flooring to the lobby with a shower that could easily fit ten, along with a jacuzzi.

Suguru is sitting on a chair reclined back with a woman who could easily be a model on his lap. He has a joint between his fingers, bringing it to his lips and taking a drag before holding it up to hers. She accepts with a grin, hand on his chest while the other fiddles with his hair.

Toji and Sukuna are sitting on a love seat next to Suguru, doing what they always seem to be doing - cutting too many lines of a soft white powder on a mirrored plate with a credit card before rolling one of their bills and inhaling, taking turns.

There are several other women in the room with a few other guys you don’t recognize - they’re all busy grinding to the beat of the music playing, glasses of champagne in their hands.

You never know who Toji and Sukuna are going to have with them - it’s seemingly a new girl each time you’re around. Aside from yourself and the girl on Suguru’s lap you’ve seen a few times, you’re the only constant.

Then again, you don’t know what goes on, on the other nights of the week that Satoru doesn’t come to whisk you away. You’ve never bothered to ask, never wanting to know how many other women he has, just like you, waiting to have his attention for the night.

Toji walks over, the mountain of a man that he is, emerald green eyes gleaming with mischief as he looks you up and down, biting his scarred lip before saying, “lookin’ great, as always.”

You’re smiling, unable to help the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from his intense gaze, but don’t respond because Satoru has moved his hand to your waist, pulling you in closer to him.

“Can you fuck off and leave my girl alone?” Satoru says without a trace of humor and you’re reeling more from his words than you should be.

His girl.

You don’t let yourself think too hard about it. You know what this is, what it always will be.

What it can never be.

You’re shrugging as Satoru pulls you away, moving his hand from your waist down to your ass, grabbing a handful before removing his hand completely, sitting on the couch next to Suguru, across from where Sukuna was before, who is now missing.

Satoru likes it when you wear the things you buy with his money - showing him you appreciate what he’s given you. Every once in a while you’ll buy a new handbag or jewelry to show off but mainly you spend it on little dresses to flaunt around in front of him, something easily accessible and removable, the way he likes it.

Sitting on the couch, resting your head on Satoru’s shoulder listening to the way his voice reverberates through his chest as he talks with Suguru, you absentmindedly draw little shapes on his chest wondering why he brought you with him tonight. The only thing you’ve been doing since you got here is listen to them discuss things you’re not interested in talking or hearing about, things that have to do with their work.

A soft quiet sigh leaves your lips as you watch Suguru pack and roll another joint for himself and his guest. Satoru hears and cocks his head in your direction before capturing your lips with his own quickly.

“You can join them. I’ll take care of you tonight.”

“It’s not fun without you,” you’re running your thumb across his lower lip, wiping away the lipstick that’s smeared on the corner. He grins before biting the tip of your thumb, swirling his tongue around it.

After a few moments, you pull your thumb away and he clicks his tongue before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and a little clear plastic baggie with a white powder that was embedded deep within, “this would be fun for you. Just need a little.”

Your brows are furrowed; it’s a different soft crystalline powder than you’ve seen him have before, “what is it?”

“A stimulant,” he replies generically, his grin is wide as he puts his wallet back in his pocket. Satoru tells you to take the water bottle that’s on the table beside you and drink it because you’ll want to stay hydrated and then to wet the tip of one of your fingers with your tongue.

You grin, looking up at him through thick lashes before putting your index finger in his mouth. He chuckles before rolling his tongue on it a few times. Listening to his instructions, you dip your finger into the baggie and suck the powder off - it doesn’t taste like anything. All you’re able to taste is the slight spearmint flavor from his spit.

After dipping your finger back into the baggie you hold it up for him. He watches you, eyes dark, stern and unamused. Satoru sees the way your shoulders slump slightly when he doesn’t accept it and the way your lower lips juts out slightly, pouting - it’s barely noticeable, but he sees it.

You’ve never asked for more from him over the last year, and you’ve been so good to him during that time too.

“Fuck, okay, but this is it.”

“Okay.” You reply quietly, the corner of your lip tugging upwards.

The boys continue their conversation and you’re not sure how much time has passed but as you watch Satoru’s sharp jaw as he speaks, the planes of his cheeks and slope of his nose you also realize his pupils have dilated tremendously. They’re more black than blue at this point.

You’ve also noticed you’ve been drawing little circles on the palm of your hand this entire time - the touch of your own skin feels so good that you can’t help but reach for Satoru and run your nails up and down the length of his arm. He tilts his head towards you, smirks and pulls you closer so your legs are resting atop his as he follows suit on your bare legs.

The contact feels incredible, like little tingles of electricity each time his nails run up and down the length of your legs slowly. Every once in a while he moves his hand up your thigh, towards the hem of your dress which makes you gasp, more and more slick pooling in the center of your panties with each pass of his hand.

“So, the wife is finally suspicious about where you go at night, huh?” Suguru asks smoothly as Toji and Sukuna come back over and sit on the small couch across from you.

Sukuna lights another joint, taking a long drag before adding, “everyone is suspicious about what we’re up to. That’s nothing new.”

Satoru sighs before leaning his head against the back of the couch, “just need to make sure nothing gets out. It’ll affect more than just us and our families if it does.”

“Awe,” you coo, “trouble in paradise?”

Satoru is snide with his remark as he glares at you from the corner of his cold blue eyes, “why? Wish I was married to you?”

You grin, leaning up to whisper in his ear, “you wish.”

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, “hiding me from anyone?”

Satoru grabs the little bag of powder and opens it again, so you do the same as you did last time; lick the tip of your index finger, dip it in and place a little on your tongue before doing the same for him.

“Nope, not worth it.”

This is the first time either of you have really acknowledged your lives outside of what you do when you’re together, typically avoiding any and all topics that have to do with personal lives.

Tonight is different and you don’t know why though you’re not exactly putting in any effort to change it.

Satoru has never worried or cared if his friends made a comment about how good you look or showed interest in hooking up with you but tonight he’s more possessive of your interactions. Holding you closer, letting details of his family and day to day life slip in conversation like he never has before.

“This feels so good,” you rasp out, taking in the feeling of his hands moving along your legs and mostly thighs at this point, so you move to straddle him. Satoru runs his large hands up your thighs slowly and under your dress to your ass, gripping hard as you press your body up against his chest, “need you.”

“I can’t tonight,” it’s a whisper filled with desperation because he wants to.

Satoru’s grip on your hips tightens as he lowers you down onto his lap so you can feel just how badly he wants you too. A whimper leaves your lips when he guides you to roll your hips on top of his before moving his hands to the insides of your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He hisses when he feels your arousal running down your leg and quickly loses his resolve, moving your panties to the side and running two fingers through your soaked folds.

It’s easy to forget, with the way he’s easily able to insert two fingers into your pussy and find your sweet spot, that the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room. Foreheads pressed together, mouths agape as you cup his cheek, rutting your hips in time with his hand as he brings you closer and closer to the brink of your release.

Satoru moves a hand from your hip to your throat, squeezing gently at the base while your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. Each touch, each pass of his fingers on your g-spot is euphoric.

There’s slick coating his hand, up to his wrist - you’re wet, wetter than you ever have before and you’re doing everything in your power to move your hips with his hand so his palm stays tightly pressed against your clit. You’re mewling, whimpering, never wanting this feeling to end, almost ready to beg him to keep you like this forever.

You’re so taken back with each others touch, the way you hold him close, card your fingers through his hair and drag your nails through his undercut; the way your breaths are mingling with one another as you’re so overcome with desire and pleasure you can’t even warn him that the thread barely keeping you together is about to snap before you’re moaning out his name and he’s whispering “fuck, that’s it,” as you absolutely gush on his hand.

Capturing your lips again the kisses are messy and needy until you’re both snapped back to reality by the sounds of Toji laughing, “damn, that was quite the show. You gonna need some help with her?”

Satoru sighs, running his thumb across your lips before moving you off his lap and standing, entwining his fingers with yours, “fuck off, Fushiguro. Find someone your own age to hang out with.”

He leads you out of the room and back down to the lobby of the hotel. You’re sure you’re about to leave for the night, before he lets temptation ruin him but rather than leading you out, he stops at the receptionist's desk, where a young man is standing, asking for a room.

There’s a smile that spreads across your face and you can’t even help it, a feeling of superiority spreading through your body that he’s choosing to spend the night with you, rather than whatever obligation was holding him back earlier.

“Hi,” you smile and wave at the receptionist while biting your lip. His eyes are flicking between you and Satoru as he looks for an open room.

It’s thrilling, being out with Satoru - there’s always that underlying thought, the excitement around potentially getting caught, even though that isn’t something either of you actually want.

Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, either because of the reality of the two of you being caught due to a snap decision on his part to stay the night or because of the drugs you took earlier, you’re not sure but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.

Satoru tilts his head in your direction, eyeing you up and down with a frown, “don’t fucking flirt with another man in front of me.”

“Oh, jealousy is not a good look on you.”

Before Satoru is able to reply, the receptionist cuts in, handing Satoru the keycard to a room along with a pamphlet of information about amenities the hotel provides. When the receptionist finishes his spiel Satoru carefully looks him over.

“If anything leaks from here, I’ll know it was from you and I will make your life a living hell. I will take anything and everything you hold dear to your heart and ruin it. You will be nothing but a broken man by the time I’m done with you. Understood?”

The man stands with wide eyes as he replies in a hurried, shaky voice, “o-okay. Understood.”

And then Satoru grins like an angel before pulling you along with him, to take you up to the room and fuck you like the devil he truly is.

He pulls you into the elevator, hiding both of your faces from the camera by pushing you into the wall of the confined space, lips latched while your tongues glide against one another, hips rutting into the other looking for stimulation.

When the elevator dings, he stumbles backwards dragging you along with him, keeping your lips connected until right outside the space where he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist while he pulls the keycard out of his pocket. You busy yourself with kissing along his jaw and neck while he finds the room you were assigned, swiping the card and kicking the door closed once he’s walked through the threshold.

The room is large, and grand but nowhere near as extravagant as the one you were in earlier, not that it really matters considering the only focus is the plush king size mattress he lets you softly fall onto.

Satoru doesn’t waste any time unbuttoning his shirt and slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room while you slip the dress off, along with your panties, waiting in the center of the bed for him to join you.

And he does, with a salacious grin spread across his face crawling over to you, pushing you further into the mattress while you spread your legs, feeling his long, thick cock press against your soaked entrance.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp out, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, “condom.”

He stares at you like you’ve just shot him square in the chest before furrowing his brows, “No. We’ll- I’ll- fuck- I’ll pull out, I have to feel you.”

Satoru doesn’t have many rules - first and foremost, above all else, stay out of the limelight and his family's business and do not talk to anyone about the details of your relationship with him without a lawyer present if anyone should find out.

After that it’s simple, really only two other rules to abide by; take your birth control pills on time and wear a condom. And he’s been adamant about that until tonight. He’s always stated he didn’t want to risk getting anything and passing it to his wife because that would be a fucking nightmare to try and explain his way out of, but it would be an even bigger problem if he were to get you pregnant.

All of that seems to be out of the window tonight because he effortlessly pushes in past your entrance. He moans sinfully at the feeling while your eyes roll to the back of your head and arch your back, “you’re so wet, this- oh fuck- fuck, you feel so good.”

“What about your wife?” You manage to gasp out, mouth open, eyes half lidded, nails digging into his shoulder as he moves so painfully slowly that it’s amazing.

The heightened sense of touch, the feeling of him with nothing in between is intoxicating, makes your head a little dizzy, feeling every inch of his length as he pulls out and pushes back in.

“You jealous, baby?” He mutters, eyes hazy with lust, “want me to fuck you the way I do my wife?”

He pulls almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into yours causing you to stutter out, “fuck, n-no, no.”

“Think I’ll leave my wife, leave my family for a stripper?” His cock twitches at his words but he doesn’t move his hips again, doesn’t give you what you need so you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him the best you’re able, “I’ve fucking thought about it, having you like this every day.”

His large hands span your hips, halting your movements as he sits back up and pulls out to your dismay.

“Beg me.” He demands, running the red tip of his cock across your hypersensitive folds, nudging your clit a few times in the process just to watch the way you squirm below him, “beg me to fuck you.”

He takes a handful of your tits massaging them roughly before leaning down, swirling his tongue on your hardened nipple. He tweaks the other at the same time he tugs the other between his teeth.

“S’toru,” you whine needy and shamelessly, “I- fuck- please, please fuck me. Just- want to feel you, need you, please.”

Satoru watches you through his lashes the way you wriggle and writhe with your nipple tugged gently between his teeth. Cock is straining, leaking precum from the slit on the sheets of the bed - he’s just as needy as you, dying to be touched, to get the stimulation he’s craving just as badly as you but he’s being incredibly patient tonight.

His length is longer, harder and thicker than usual, twitches with your words and every whimper that leaves your lips but he still doesn’t fuck you - he’s waiting. Waiting for you to say he can fuck you, unimpeded and raw.

“Please, Satoru, baby,” tears are forming in the corner of your eyes, threatening to break free if he doesn’t work to extinguish the fire that’s burning in the center of your belly, to give you the release your body is screaming at you to have, “fuck me, please- so hard- always wanted to feel you-”

He can’t hold back anymore, not when you’re laying so pretty on the bed, tears streaming down your cheeks and begging him to give you what he knows only he can. Before you’ve realized what happened, he has you flipped over lining his cock with your entrance before slamming his hips flush with yours.

You cry out his name as he moves his hips with reckless abandon, finally, finally feeding the flames of desire burning in your core. His crystalline eyes are hooded with lust and desire as he grabs your hair at the roots and tugs harshly, other hand on your hip helping keep you in place as he pumps his hips faster and harder.

“You take all of me so fucking well,” he moans, “nobodies ever taken all of me.”

Wet, lewd squelching noises fill the space of the hotel room. You’re so wet from the jolt of electricity that thrums through your body with every touch and every time the tip of his cock grazes your sweet spot, and you’re only getting wetter as he continues to fuck into your rougher and rougher.

You know he’s comparing you to his wife when he babbles aimlessly like this, but you’ve learned to not let it bother you, not to think too much on it. After all, he’s spending his free time with you.

Sex with Satoru has always been good, he always seemed to know what you needed before you did, but tonight is different. Better somehow.

It’s all so much, so euphoric that there’s no way you’re able to hold back your impending orgasm; unable to help the way your thighs shake when the tip of his length kisses your cervix so deliciously you know it’ll ache in the morning. 

The moment Satoru drapes his body over yours, fingers drawing small tight circles on your clit is the moment the flames erupt, warmth and pleasure coursing through your veins as your walls spasm and constrict around his cock so hard he has to slow his pace and take a deep shaky breath in order to not follow along right beside you.

He lets go of your hair, kissing your shoulders and center of your back several times before sitting back on the balls of his feet before taking both of your wrists in one of his large hands and holding them behind your back.

Satoru moves his hips slowly a few times before pulling you up so your back is flush with his chest. 

“Like it when I fuck you like the filthy slut you are?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before hooking his fingers in your mouth turning your attention to him. Your tongue immediately finds his fingers, swirling over them as you look up to him, eyes so dark and filled with lust you can barely see any of the color anymore. He lets a tail of saliva fall from his mouth into yours and you moan the moment it hits your tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He lets go of your wrist, splaying one hand over your stomach to feel the bulge from his cock each time he recklessly fucks into you, while the other finds its way to your breast, squeezing and gripping as he looses himself to pleasure inside of you.

There’s a mirror across from you, above the dresser in front of the bed - Satoru’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink, down his neck to the top of his chest. Lips parted with eyes on you as he watches and listens to the way you moan and whine from each stroke of his long cock.

“Satoru, cum in me,” his hips falter at your words, “fill me up, please.”

“Baby, I can’t.” But he absolutely wants to.

He pushes you back down on the bed, hand in the center of your back keeping your face pressed against the silky sheets. He takes the opportunity to grip your ass and spread your cheeks, watching the way you take all of him down the base without complaint. He lets his spit fall from his mouth, and watches the way you jolt when it makes contact with your other entrance unexpectedly and slides down to his cock, mixing with your arousal.

Satoru feels the way your pussy has a death grip on his cock again, knows you’re about to cum and he can’t bring himself to pull out. Not when you look and sound so pretty for him, not when you were literally begging for him to cum inside you earlier.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” he’s moaning at the thought, getting lost inside you, “I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you so fucking full of me.”

His words are enough to set you off, having your pussy tightening around him like a noose as he paints your walls white, letting out a guttural groan as he rocks his hips back and forth, working you both through your releases.

There’s so much dripping out from between where you’re connected that his efforts to keep it all inside are fruitless. The view is absolutely obscene, cum mixed together and dripping onto the bed sheets below, the sounds are vulgar but it doesn’t stop him from fucking it deep and deeper inside, rolling his neck and head back through the hypersensitivity of his his tip.

Eventually he rolls you over onto your back, both panting, trying to catch your breaths. He’s still half hard, both hissing at the sensation when he runs his cock up through your puffy folds, dragging his wet, heavy cock on your stomach when he leans up and places several languid kisses to the center of your chest.

He licks a strip from your chest to jaw before sucking several small red starbursts on your neck, shoulder and down to your tits. Your nails are on his shoulder and back digging into his skin - he groans, loves the feeling, the sharp to dull pain that comes with it.

There’s been an unspoken rule between the two of you, no marks. Not on him at least. It’s more important his body be free from any unknown scratches and little red marks, should the press decide to have a field day seeing them and decide to investigate.

“Love leaving marks on you,” he whispers, voice low, gravely with desire again. “Everyone knows you belong to someone else, don’t they?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Tell me baby, who do you belong to?”

“You. Satoru, I’m yours.” You answer a little too honestly, holding his face a little too lovingly. He groans at the confirmation, knows he shouldn’t have made you say it but couldn’t resist hearing it.

You place several kisses on his lips and cheek. Everything is getting progressively sloppier, starting to come down from your respective highs. Satoru’s eyes are half lidded, not only from lust but from a tiredness that’s starting to seep through.

He returns the kisses languidly before you kiss along his jaw, sucking a small spot just under his jaw, nipping at the skin playfully a few times in the process. He doesn’t stop you because he knows that despite not being able to give you all of himself, he’s yours too.

Probably even more than he’s his wifes.

Slowly, he presses his tip against your entrance again, easily slipping past the ring of muscles while you wrap your legs around his waist. He hooks one of his arms under your knee, pushing it up so he’s able to get deeper.

Satoru fucks into you hard and fast like this. It’s messy, wet and sticky with your mixed arousal and cum connecting the two of you. Slick wet sounds fill the room again until you’re both on the brink of another imminent release.

“Think I might fucking love you.” He admits, voice low, filled with lust.

You want to say it back, but you know it’s not true, the shit he says when he’s buried ten inches deep in your cunt, cock bruising your cervix as he fucks into you.

“You’re so wet, already so full of me,” he moans at the thought of cumming inside you again. “G-gonna give you a baby, gonna give you part of me.”

“S’toru,” you gasp at his lust filled desires and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that too so you move your hips up wantonly, eagerly, “yes, please.”

It’s a bad fucking idea, to let him say these things, to agree with him. But you let him move your knees back to your shoulders, holding the heels of your feet for leverage as he presses his hips into you until you’re both cumming again.

He collapses on top of you, heavy breaths fanning your ear. You lay like this, chests rising and falling against one another until you’re overcome by sleep.

There’s light peeking in through semi-closed curtains, a beam of light hitting your face at the perfect angle, right into your eye. Knitting your brows together, you stifle a yawn before stretching out, feeling a warm body pressed into yours.

Your eyes flutter open, focusing on the dim light of the hotel room. It’s the same as it was last night, pristine, perfect. All except the sheets and blankets that are askew on the bed from your passion filled night.

The silky white sheet is covering most of you, but only on Satoru up to his hips. He must have gotten hot last night, threw everything off him in his sleep.

Looking up to him, his eyes are still closed, eyes moving slightly behind his lids. Soft white lashes flutter slightly with each movement while his arm that’s wrapped around your waist twitches slightly.

Your naked body is pressed against him, skin to skin. One leg is tangled between his while one hand is on his chest.

You let yourself take in the sight, not something you allow yourself to do frequently, but last night was indulgent, so this morning might as well be too. Satoru looks peaceful when he’s asleep. He’s always so calm and collected when you’re with him but never quite like this.

Truly without a care in the world with his eyes closed. No stress about someone finding out about you, exposing his lies and his secret life.

You stay like this for too long, watching him sleep, letting your index finger run along the scar on his chest. He says your name quietly, and you smile, just slightly at the thought of him dreaming about you.

You’re still high, you can tell, feeling light and airy and great about everything, but you know better than to let it last. You’ll be coming down again soon and everything will feel mundane, pointless, bothersome.

So you go to move, push yourself away from him to do your normal routine of getting ready for the day, pretending you were never here with him. His grip around your waist tightens, halting your movements.

“Stay…” Satoru whispers so quietly it’s barely audible.

Pursing your lips you look up at him, eyes still closed, no identifying feature signifying he’s woken up and is really, truly asking you to stay by his side, despite all the shit that would come along with it.

Your heart is beating fast, irregular, but you’re sure it’s from the stimulant. It has to be. Any other reason would be less than ideal.

After all, he probably thinks you’re his wife right now. Laying next to him, snuggled in close like she probably is every other day of the week.

You let out a single low wry chuckle at the morbid thought, licking your lips and shaking your head and whispering, “that’s not a good idea.”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down and you mentally kick yourself for leaving the incredibly obvious fucking hickey just below his jaw. Satoru’s grip loosens just enough for you to wriggle out of his grasp.

Something you quickly learned after getting involved with Satoru is to have a bag packed at all times. That way in the mornings you can shower, removing the sweat and scents of not only the alcohol or drugs but also his cologne from your skin. It’s important to make it appear like you were never with him, to never leave in the same clothes you’ve arrived in.

After showering, you do your normal daily routine. Moisturizers, hair products, make up. You bring it all and you do it all - it would be no different if you were sitting at home, getting ready for your day.

That’s all this is, isn’t it? Just a routine. Meet a man, party, have mind blowing sex, act as if you’ve never met each other afterwards. Over and over again.

When you step back into the living space of the room, Satoru is no longer lying on his back, but rather his stomach, face buried into the pillow you used last night. His own overnight back is open, evident he had rifled through it for some reason when you were in the shower before climbing back into the bed, ignoring your presence.

Sitting on top is a black Versace sweatshirt. Looking back over to him, he’s unmoving aside from his back raising and falling slightly with each breath. Pursing your lips you quickly decide to grab it out of his bag and throw it into yours.

It’ll smell like him, even if only for a few days.

Picking up your garments from last night, you throw them into your bag before pulling out oversized sunglasses to hide your obviously still blown pupils and throw them on before turning the knob of the door to exit the room.

You don’t bother turning around, checking to see if Satoru watched you walk out. There’s no point. You know he didn’t. This is all routine.

After ensuring the door closes completely, you take a few steps down the hall while the elevator dings and a woman steps out of it.

She’s tall, in a pressed black pencil skirt and blazer. She looks classy with the way her ebony hair falls over her shoulders in soft curls.

She heads down the direction you’re coming from. Neither of you acknowledge the other as you pass by, on your own separate missions. Your breathing picks up, and the air feels tense after noticing the scowl spread across her features. And you all but jump at the sound of her banging on the room door you just walked out of moments prior.

You press the button to the elevator a few times, palms growing more clammy by the second, afraid the two of you might have been caught, that the boy from the front desk didn’t heed Satoru’s warning.

You watch from the corner of your eye as Satoru groggily opens the door, complaining about the loud sound. At least he had enough sense to put on a shirt beforehand, hiding the marks you left across his chest and back.

“You missed our counseling appointment. Is this some kind of joke to you?”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes adjusting to the bright light of the hall and you could swear his eyes flicker to you for a split second before finally speaking.

“No, of course not. I went out with the guys last night and lost track of time. You know how it is.”

“All too well.”

She pushes past him into the room and you know he didn’t have enough time to do any clean up of his own, that the room still reeks of alcohol, sweat and sex. And if she even bothers to look around, he’ll have to explain why the shower is wet from having been used when he clearly hasn’t washed up.

“Good lord. What have you been doing here? And what is on your neck?”

His hand goes to his jaw instinctively to try to hide the mark you left last night, “uh, cigarette burn. The guys were messing around last night and I got mixed up in the fray.”

He doesn’t seem to be too worried about his wife’s line of questioning because he looks over to you, just as the elevator dings, giving you a smirk.

You watch him from the corner of your eye, biting your lip as you return the sly smile, stepping into the elevator once the doors open knowing he can’t and won’t stay away from you for long.

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[agojo]