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gojorgeous · 5 months

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"creature of myth."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my lady?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course… Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was… good.”

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

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

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

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

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

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

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

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

“You’re not… eating?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You skip ahead again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

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

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About the estate?” he asks.

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

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

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

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

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

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

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

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

“S-Satoru–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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omi-boshi · 3 months

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"Hey, Kiyoomi-kun!" Shion yells from the open door leading to the locker rooms, voice a little breathless. "Your phone rang." Kiyoomi quirks an eyebrow in curiosity. There's still 15 minutes left of their break and truthfully, Kiyoomi is not inclined to leave the comfortable position he's resting in: sat on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him as he caught his breath. Still, he rises to his feet and ambles towards the locker room. Kiyoomi typically has his phone on Do Not Disturb. If anyone's messaging him at this time, it could only be one person: you. He thumbs his phone open; the screen flashes with a photo of you and him from your most recent anniversary, before he clicks on the message that, just as he guessed, came from you.

It's a video.

For a moment, he considers saving it for later just in case it ends up being racier than what's acceptable to play in public but the motion blur from the thumbnail suggests anything but that. Besides, it's barely past 5PM, you're only on the way home at this time.

Ultimately, curiosity gets the better of him and he plays the video without further ado.

"Hey, babe!" Your voice crackles through the speaker. In the video, you're running. The backdrop is the familiar landscape of the neighborhood you both reside in.

"This is proof that I would never try to bring home a stray dog." You look off to the side, the camera tilting with the motion and showing the dog that's running alongside you. "See, Kiyoomi!" You look towards your phone. Despite doing your utmost at feigning disappointment and concern at being followed, your giddiness bleeds through your voice and it's enough to pull a smile out of Kiyoomi.

"See! I'm running! I'm running away from you!" Your voice lowers in volume as you direct your words to the dog. It's immediately followed by, "Come on, buddy! Come on— Go away!" You say the last part to the camera. Eyes wide, as if you were looking directly at Kiyoomi and convincing him in person.

Kiyoomi falters at the way you try your damndest to tamp down your grin, the faux disappointment coming back as you address him through the video. His grin widens.

"What are you doing? Go away!" You turn to the dog. "I said run— run away—come on, come on—Run, buddy—Run away!"

As you grow increasingly breathless, Kiyoomi's amusement crests, sending him into fits of laughter that catch the attention of everyone within the vicinity. His laughter continues as he watches you run with this dog, at one point, even waving it over when it strays too far.

By the time the video abruptly cuts off, the fatigue Kiyoomi felt from practice is replaced by this warmth in his chest brought about by your valiant attempt at not leading a stray dog into your home. When his laughter subsides, Shoyo bounds over towards him, curious at what has the reclusive spiker so amused. "You seem happy, Omi-san. Something good happen?" Kiyoomi spares him a glance, laughter dying down, and a soft quirk to his lips that Shoyo has learned can only be pulled out of him by you. "Yeah... I think we're getting a dog."

(based on this silly little video)

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x self-insert #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #sakusa headcanons #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq x y/n #san's blobs

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ghostaholics · 1 year

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fuck it i'm thinking about grump x sunshine trope and a neighbor au with ghost where he's known for being the building's loner-tenant, this brute bear of a man that keeps to himself.

nobody's ever seen him smile or caught a glimpse of the entirety of his face because he always wears a black surgical mask when he's going to and from his flat; nobody's ever had a full-length conversation with him, because true to his callsign, he's in and out of the building with as much silence and stealth as a ghost. the other residents gossip about him: the water-cooler talk usually goes along the lines of them trying to piece together his story, who he is, what he looks like, whether they should be worried about the fact that he lives there (because there's nothing wrong with being a recluse but he does give off slightly terrifying vibes due to his size and demeanor). the rumor mill’s churning out these outlandish ideas about his private life and they kind of make assumptions based on little things they’ve noticed about him since he’s started living there.

enter in his new neighbor who's never met him, but was advised on her move-in day that he doesn't interact much with the other residents, basically a light debrief on how he can come off as cold and aloof and while some people have made attempts in the past to greet him, they’ve been dissuaded by his general standoffishness and avoidance of any social interaction.

anyways, simon wakes up at odd times throughout the night because he's got the most fucked sleeping schedule from deployment; he can start his day anywhere from 4am, 6pm, and so forth but on one particular morning, he's up at 3:30am, ready to go out for a jog of all things at this hour and then in the hall, he runs into his cute neighbor who's holding this also equally cute german shepherd puppy in her arms; his reaction consists of slowly blinks and a blank expression because he doesn’t quite know what to make of the sight in front of him

and she's staring back at simon with wide, frightened eyes not because she finds him intimidating or anything of that nature (honestly she doesn’t really give two shites about what the others say about him) but because the landlord has a severe and well-known, no-pets policy so she's been sneaking the puppy outside to use the bathroom in creative ways (one of them being at a time where she's certain none of the other tenants are awake) – she's basically been caught red-handed and fuck she's not sure if he's the type to snitch so all she can really say is:

❝ You didn't see anything. ❞

to which he deadpans,

❝... Sure. ❞

because he’s really just trying to mind his own business and not get involved, ducks his head before shouldering past her in the corridor to get outside – he tells himself he can’t bring himself to care about this new development

however, she's not entirely confident that he's going to make good on his word, so she bakes these cookies (special recipe of hers that she’s hopeful will win him over), leaves them in front of his door as a bribe with a card that says please don’t get me evicted ♡ on the inside, which seemed like an excellent plan in theory until he shows up the next day with an empty plate, a very real, very genuine request for more, and a serious demand to see the german shepherd that’s trying to squirm its way out the door to greet simon

edit: love thy neighbor masterlist

#I have more to say but I’m stopping myself right there #part one is being written #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley

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themedialmercurial · 2 months

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Asteroid Glo (3267) and How you Shine🐚

This asteroid and its placements point towards the ways in which an individual naturally shines. By taking awareness of this, one can level up their life in a more naturally-occurring way, tending to their innate strengths. With dedication, it can even lead to fame ⭐️

I'm finally back with a new post! Thank you for both your patience and your kindness on this platform. I'm so glad to have joined such a kind and accepting community on here 🫶🏽

As always, do share your own placements and how you believe it has played out in your life thus far! Of course, asteroids are not as important as the natal chart itself, though it can be fun to explore, because why not? Enough chatter, more about the content:

GLO IN THE HOUSES

You shine for your authenticity, your natural beauty and personality. This kind of person reminds me of someone who simply wakes and is considered to be radiant. All face. Great skin.

Your personal possessions are something of interest of others, perhaps being literally shiny and even of great quality. You are perceived to be of high status as a result.

Your mind is highlighted with this placement. There is something so magnetic about the way you think and communicate with others. Perhaps your learning style is innovative and an emphasis on your early education days.

☆ of the family vibes? Either way, your family is a very important factor in your life and even moreso, when it comes to your mother.

Your mind is highlighted, this time in terms of your creativity. Your children, pets and romantic relationships can be a source of light for your life. Also, there is an emphasis on talent.

Your work ethic is likely the talk of the town, perhaps for your disciplined nature. Also, the way in which you tend to your body (diet, exercise, hygiene) can be admired.

Your long-term relationships (marriage) are something that naturally draw attention. On the other hand, careful with open enemies and envy on others behalf.

Your ability to transform and resilience throughout your life are truly one of a kind. Perhaps your spiritual practices draw a lot of attention.

This placement points towards a life plentiful in travel experiences, upper education opportunities (college, university) and overall incessant learning in life, particular language learning and of other cultures. These qualities do not go unseen by others.

10H

Your career and your status draw in attention naturally, regardless of what it is that you do. You can be admired for your authority-like presence.

11H

Friend magnet position. You also can be a hopeful and wishful person, thus attracting even more abundance, which makes you glow even further.

12H

Your energy is unforgettable. Despite this placement being more reclusive and desiring time alone, your spiritual practices are often highlighted. Also, some of your secrets and fears may to more apparent due to the illuminating nature of this asteroid

GLO IN THE SIGNS

How can you express and optimize your natural gifts?

ARIES

Through your shameless and enthusiastic nature

TAURUS

Through your patient and artistic nature

GEMINI

Through your inquisitive, communicative and adaptable nature

CANCER

Through your emotional, nurturing nature

LEO

Through your creative and fun-loving nature

VIRGO

Through your attention to detail, precision and helpful nature

LIBRA

Through your peace-loving, diplomatic and charming nature

SCORPIO

Through your magnetic, persevering and passionate nature

SAGGITARIUS

Through your optimistic and honest nature

CAPRICORN

Through your ambitious and efficient nature

AQUARIUS

Through your independent, unique nature

PISCES

Through your empathetic, responsive, escapist nature

GLO IN ASPECT

Glo-Sun benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You shine in your self-expression and identity. You know that you shine though it isn't an ego show, you know how to acknowledge the confidence you have in yourself

Glo-Sun malefic aspects (opposition, square)

Surplus of ego, cockiness that may not be well-received. On the other hand, this may manifest as insecurity and lack of sense of self and esteem.

Glo-Moon benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You have a knack for expressing your feelings that others resonate with, people can feel understood when you open up (youtubers who share their intimate mental health struggles come to mind).

Glo-Moon malefic aspects (opposition, square)

May manifest as emotional outbursts if not careful (breakdowns, surges of anger) that are not well-received but are perceivable to the public eye.

Glo-Mercury benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

Your communication style, whether that be through writing or speaking draw people in.

Glo-Mercury malefic aspects (opposition, square)

You may be prone to overthinking and communicating in a way that is difficult to follow as a result. On the other hand, this can point towards a fast speaker that engages their audience (a rapper perhaps).

Glo-Venus benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You have a natural beauty that you too know how to accentuate. Whether it be through clothes, makeup, art or all the above, you capture others attention as a result.

Glo-Venus malefic aspects (opposition, square)

You may not see your beauty as easily as others, which may lead others to think you're searching for validation. On the other hand, this placement may lead to vanity, constant appearance checks and being unable to stop thinking about how one looks (overindulgence).

Glo-Saturn benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You are a naturally hard-working person ("started from the bottom now we here" vibes) and your discipline does not go uncelebrated by the masses.

Glo-Saturn malefic aspects (opposition, square)

Despite well intent, you may be prone to overworking, something that generates concern for your well-being. On the other hand, perhaps you do not see the point of hard work and lack discipline.

Glo-Mars benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You are likely a trailblazer in whichever career you choose. What comes to mind is a fitness instructor for example, who creates new exercises that can be done from the comfort of one's home. This creates competition in the best possible way.

Glo-Mars malefic aspects (opposition, square)

Despite your potential trailblazing capabilities, perhaps it wasn't always in the best interest of others. Remember not to step on others just to reach the top, not only is it not well-received, it also will not go unpunished (the fiery mars energy). Remember, competitiveness is healthy, in small doses.

Glo-Jupiter benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You are perceived as a lucky person, particularly when it comes to all your life experiences. This is someone who likely finds luck through their travels and emerging themself in new cultures. Not to mention, higher education opportunities are abundant, something that does not go unnoticed. These blessings strengthen the individual.

Glo-Jupiter malefic aspects (opposition, square)

This can lead to either a blockage in opportunities, causing despair to the person or a surplus of opportunities, leading the individual to feel overwhelmed and unable to choose. In particular, this makes me think of someone who wants to do many things with their life though is unable to choose one venture. In the public eye, this person can be perceived as scattered or restless as a result.

Glo-Uranus benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

You shine through your uniqueness, your ability to tap into your original ideas. In particular, unconventional YouTube videos come to mind like storytimes with several plot twists or even "Staying in My Freezer for 24 Hours", idk. You have a great ability to entertain.

Glo-Uranus malefic aspects (opposition, square)

This can manifest as sudden, undesired changes. Using the previous YouTube example, perhaps things go wrong seemingly out of nowhere or that you venture into more dangerous video ideas.

Glo-Chiron benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

When you are aware of your natural ability to shine and you own it, this placement in turn shines again for their ability to share their teachings and past hurt to others.

Glo-Chiron malefic aspects (opposition, square)

This placement indicates a person who is not able to work through their shame associated with their natural shine, who shies away from what they know they are good at, in the guise of humility. They dwell on the undesired parts of themself rather than foster and nurture their strengths.

Glo-Neptune benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

Your imagination, and artistic ability take you far in life. Sharing these gifts with others provides both parties with a healthy escape from the daily routine of life.

Glo-Neptune malefic aspects (opposition, square)

This placement may lead to an excess in escapist tendencies, and mental sensitivity, thus leading the person to retreat more into themself and not share their gift.

Glo-Pluto benefic aspects (conjunction, sextile, trine)

This persons' transformative nature is incredible. This can be perceived as having many different "phases" (emo, edgy, girly, hairstyles, clothing, etc) depending on what it is that they've gone through in their life. This is admired by many.

Glo-Pluto malefic aspects (opposition, square)

This may manifest as someone who is in the spotlight for their inability to adjust to the constant changes in their life, who is famous for unfavourable transformations as a result.

GLO AND INSECURITIES

Forgive me for not mentioning the exact source but I've seen a person on TikTok hypothesize that when we feel insecure, we tend to embody the negative traits of the sister sign of the placement in question when we feel lesser than.

Let's use myself as an example. Natally I have asteroid Glo in Libra 1H. According to this, I shine for simply being myself. In times of insecurity, it can be said that may appear self-centered and arrogant (negative aries traits) and perhaps seek external validation through romantic relationships in attempt to remedy this (7H). With this awareness, I can learn to pour more into myself and become more attuned to my needs.

SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS

This year (2023-july 2024), I have Glo in Cancer 11H trine saturn and squaring neptune. I've found myself slowly opening up more and literally crying (cancer) to my friends (11H) and noticing that it does help with the emotional burden, as someone who usually doesn't. Also, I find that those closest to me occasional make remarks about how hard-working I am (saturn) and this in turn has led me to in more into their perspective of me (8H) and lean more into discipline (capricorn) daily routine, diet and healthy regiment (6H). On the other hand, I have been trying to balance my mental sensitivity (neptune) through my formal education alongside more spiritual practices such as tarot, crystals and astrology (9H). As a result, this year has led me to take a more caring and gentle approach (pisces) to my mental health and explore the inner workings of my mind through guides such as tarot and astrology (8H) though I do require more alone time.

As for this upcoming year (july 2024-2025), I'll have Glo in Virgo 12H sextile the moon and venus, as well as trine uranus and opposing chiron (wow). I foresee myself taking a more analytical view (virgo) when it comes to the inner workings of my mind, analyzing my spiritual beliefs, sleeping routine and hidden fears (12H). With this placement sextile moon, I suspect that emotional expression may come with more ease (moon) and that freeing myself from emotional turmoil may lead me to more career opportunities, and a greater reputation (10H). With a venus sextile as well, this placement is indicative of an improved fashion sense and general understanding of what natural suits me through an intuitive and emotional connected approach, nurturing my needs (cancer), in particular when it comes to finding success in career and social standing (10H), which mirrors my exact natal placement. With a uranus trine, embracing my innovative ideas (uranus) will allow me to flourish in matters related to fear as a general concept, conquering it and transform for the greater good as a result, becoming more spiritually attuned to myself perhaps (8H). This success should be approached in a patient, practical way as lasting success is not immediate (taurus). Now, with Glo opposing chiron, this upcoming year may be one where I must actively fight against my limiting beliefs, perhaps even those that others project onto me (chiron). In particular, challenges associated with potential romantic pursuits are at the forefront, if I do not acknowledge my strengths and hide away instead (7H). I must not waver in my faith and tap into the true courageous, leader-like energy that I know I have inside (aries). This last part shouldn't be as daunting seeing as I have Glo square chiron natally, both in cardinal signs.

Dividers from source!

#themedialmercurial #astrology #astro #astrovations #astro notes #astroblr #astro observations #astro placements #astro community #asteroid

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the-offside-rule · 4 months

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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Embarassing

Requested: yes

Prompt: 3) "His smile gives me butterflies"

Warnings: alcohol maybe idk

Y/n, the brilliant Red Bull strategist, reveled in the success of another 1-2 finish for the team. The victory celebration echoed through the night, and with each cheer, Y/n's heart raced. As the party reached its peak, she found herself drowning her nerves in a bit too much alcohol. In the dimly lit corner of the party, Y/n sat alone, contemplating the stars above. Max Verstappen, unaware of her intoxicated state, noticed her isolation and decided to check on her. "Hey, everything alright?" Max inquired, concern etched on his face as he sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her to show his support.

"I'm just here, having a moment. You know, thinking about someone." Max, intrigued yet puzzled, sat beside her. "Someone special, huh?" Y/n nodded, a dreamy expression settling on her face. "You won't believe it. I'm head over heels in love with Max Verstappen! Can you imagine? His smile gives me butterflies, and when he races, it's like my heart is on the track with him." Max, amused, played along. "You think so?" She nodded. "And his determination, Max never gives up. It's inspiring. Also, that Dutch accent is-" She paused lifting her glass to her lips. "It's something else."

Max couldn't hold back his laughter. "You seem to know him quite well." Y/n nodded, blissfully unaware. "Oh, absolutely! I have have come up up his strategy like all the time. I wish I could tell him how much I love him." Max, enjoying the banter, decided to play along. "Well, maybe you should." Max looked at her with admiration. She was seen as somewhat of a recluse at Red Bull. Yes, she was lovely but she was serious about her job and worked so hard to prove she was serious, that Max and many other team members were unaware she was even capable of being able to love someone. "I will! Next time I see him."

"Shouldn't be too hard. You're in a huge nightclub with him." Y/n nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and the way he talks about racing, it's so passionate. I could listen to him talk about it all day." Y/n sighed, blissfully unaware that she was talking to the very person she was gushing about. Max chuckled, enjoying the unexpected revelation. "Well, I'm flattered. Thanks for the compliment."

"Wait, what?" She turned. Max smiled and put his hand out. "Max Verstappen." He said teasingly. Y/n's eyes widened, realization hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. "Wait, what? Oh my- Max, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't know it was you." Max laughed, genuinely appreciating her honesty. "No worries. It's flattering. Let me walk you back to the party." As they stood up, Y/n, suddenly shy, looked down. "I should probably go. I've embarrassed myself enough." Before Max could even say a word, off she went stumbling away. Max followed, but in the crowded venue, he lost sight of her. The party continued, but Max couldn't shake off the amusing encounter and the even more amusing strategist

The next day in the buzzing Red Bull factory, Y/n immersed herself in her work, determined to focus on strategy and leave the embarrassing incident behind. As she studied data and simulations, Max casually strolled through the facility, inspecting the ongoing progress. He eventually found his way to Y/n's desk, where she was engrossed in her tasks. Max leaned against the edge of the desk, smirking, "Hello, darling."

Y/n's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I, uh, I think I may have said some things at the party." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Max, still amused as he was the night before grinned. "Oh, you mean the Max Verstappen love fest?" Y/n cringed. "Yeah, that. Sorry about that." She hid her head in her hands as Max simply laughed. He interrupted with a playful grin, "No need to apologize. I thought it was cute, actually. If you ever want to show that side of you more often, feel free."

Y/n blinked in surprise, and Max reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He jotted down his number and slid it across her desk, winking mischievously. "In case you need someone to talk to about your Max Verstappen crush." Flustered but intrigued, Y/n managed a shy smile. "Thanks, Max. I'll... keep that in mind." Max nodded, giving her a knowing look, and continued his stroll through the factory. Y/n couldn't help but replay the interaction in her mind, a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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blackopals-world · 4 months

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Crowley: I scheduled this parent-teacher conference to be frank with all of you. I somehow expected that the next generation you produced would be better then the fathers you chose to procreate with. But somehow you each managed to compound what was wrong with both of you to create hellspawns. Now let's go down the list of each offender. Starting with the Trappola twins, Jojo and Koko. They shattered the very same chandelier his parents did.

Jester!Yuu: (giggling) They are usually so well behaved. Please don't hold it against them.

Crowley: Baishan, the raccoon has singlehandedly robbed the entirety of Octavinelle.

Chef!Yuu:(smiling cheerfully) He's just like his father. I've been trying to get him to use his cooking knowledge to work at the lounge.

Crowley: Nuru unleashed a plague of fleas after not being chosen as head of the Spelldrive team.

Vet!Yuu: I don't condone his behavior. He's competitive like Leona but that is no excuse. We will talk to him. But the fleas are lab-raised and don't carry illnesses.

Crowley: Violetta Ashengrotto is currently running an illegal gambling ring somewhere on campus and I still can't find where she is hiding it. I can't even punish her for it without evidence.

Marine Biologist:(dressed like an Italian mob wife) What I'm hearing is that she is being accused without evidence. My little pearl is innocent.

Crowley: Molly Schoenheit, set fire to the stage after challenging the LeBlanche girl during the regional talent show.

Gardener!Yuu: I blame the stagehands and the promoter. They were told explicitly to keep the girls away from each other. But her father gave her a good earful after what happened, after raising her allowance behind my back. She can't go to that concert anymore though.

Crowley: Regent Hunt is a duplicate of his father. He's been spotted stalking students.

Special Forces!Yuu: Spotted?! He is in big trouble! No son of mine would be spotted during a mission! His father would be aghast to hear this.

Crowley: Neo Shroud despite not being the recluse his father was has chosen a path of being a criminal. I know he's the one extorting me not this shadow hacktivist organization. He has my credit cards, social security number and I know he's the one running that parody account of me on social media.

Otaku!Yuu: Prove it.

Crowley: (sigh) And then there is Merlyn...do I even need to say anything? Honestly, I fully expected better from you. You married Floyd! Of all people him?! I wish I objected sooner.

Nurse!Yuu: My son is...a curious sort.

Crowley: He's a hazard to society. He starts fights just so he can patch people up.

Nurse!Yuu: Like I said he just wants to learn more about biology.

Crowley: I just wish your children were a little less troublesome. Was that too much to hope for?

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captainfern · 2 months

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soooo i'm curious, in the cuck!price verse, do you think he and his wife have a love for reader beyond their physical activities? or is it, for now at least, just sex??? (waittt, imagine this: the prices who haven't quite realized they have deeper feelings for you yet. and you, whose been in love and open about it for a while, getting fed up and going on a date with someone else to make them jealous. you succeeding and getting the jealous prices to admit their feelings <333333)

the cuck universe expands lmao but at this point he’s not even cucking he’s just sharing

check out the lovely @bleuu-moon since she started this whole thing 😭

i like to think that they really do like reader and end up becoming quite… territorial

18+ (piv, f!oral (reader giving), fem!reader

you went on a date with someone else. it had been a couple of days since you last saw the price’s, and even then, they seemed to be reclused when it came to their feelings about you. you could feel there was something they wanted to say, but they just didn’t say it. so you ignored their calls, and found romantic attention elsewhere.

they were really nice— the person you went on a date with, that is. kind and charming and funny. they paid for the date, kept steady and comfortable conversation, and the whole thing felt calming and natural. they even offered to pay for your ride home.

so you invited them back to your place. maybe you often did this on first dates, maybe not, but today you felt almost obligated to do so. they were such a good date, and you itched to know whether you could thank them within the privacy of your bedroom.

and your date, rather bashful by this stage, agreed, and the two of you went home together. but when you arrived home, tumbling out of the uber together with their lips on your neck and arms around your waist, you stopped short when you clocked mr. and mrs. price loitering outside your door.

you have them a sceptical look when they turned in your direction, your date’s hands roaming down your sides, their lips blazing a warm trail down the curve of your neck, sucking and biting gently. you would have probably whimpered if it wasn’t for john and his wife watching you with something fiery blazing in their eyes.

“had a nice time, sweetheart?” mrs. price asked, her head cocked to the side, her arms crossed over her chest.

your date pulled their head away from you, their arms still wrapped around your body, head resting on your shoulder now. they felt you stiffen up, hands squeezing your hips soothingly.

“uh…?” your date was confused by this point. two attractive people waiting for you on your doorstep, looking a little more than just annoyed.

you didn’t really have the words to explain who or what they were to you. but you didn’t have too. john grabbed hold of your front door handle and opened it (you mentally asked yourself where he got a key from?) and gestured towards it with his head.

“inside,” he ordered. “now.”

apologetically, you wiggled your way out of your date’s arms and offered them your sincerest apologies. they took it well, and waved goodbye before hopping back into the still-waiting uber and driving off.

nervously, you walked into your home with both prices trailing after you. and you didn’t get far— being bent over your kitchen counter as you deposited your purse and phone there.

“had a nice time, did you?” john muttered, hips pinning you to the counter. his hand came down to the back of your neck, where he could see the subtle outlines of harsh kisses along your skin. teeth indents in the low light of the kitchen.

“what’s all these then?” he asked, but it was rhetorical. he traced his fingers along the marks, hips grinding into the curve of your arse. you whined, feeling trapped beneath him as his wife walked up to your side, placing a hand on the top of your head, petting gently.

“trying to make us jealous, pet?” she all but purred in your ear, stroking your hair. she bent down slightly to place a light kiss against your temple, and you felt your brows furrow when she pulled away. she tutted. “well, it worked.”

“worked a little too well,” john hissed, still grinding his clothed cock into the swell of your arse, his hand still on the back of your neck, big and warm and heavy.

you whined. “s’just all so confusing. sometimes i don’t even know if you like me anymore. you both get so distant when i tell you i care about you.”

“oh, sweetheart. of course we care about you,” mrs. price whispered, still petting the top of your head like you were some kind of puppy. “we care about you so much, don’t we, john?”

“mhm,” he hummed, hips bucking and pushing your further into the kitchen counter. you steadied yourself with your arms along the cool surface, his hand still pinning your head to the side to look at his wife. he exhaled deeply, pained. “our pretty girl.”

you whined out again and mrs. price shushed you, cooing gently and sliding her soft hand along the curve of your face, petting you soothingly. she kissed your temple again, her lips ghosting along your hairline before she pulled back. “see? we do care about you, sweetheart. you’re ours. got it?”

you nodded, feeling your eyes growing glossy. her tone was so soft and sultry yet you didn’t miss the possession in her words, the territorial nature of it all.

“m’yours,” you reaffirmed with a trembling voice. “and m’sorry.”

“aw, poor baby,” mrs. price cooed, this time trailing a hand along the curve of your back until she reached the hem of your trousers, near where john was still rutting his hardening cock. “you want to make it up to us?”

you were nodding before she had even finished her sentence, which made her smile as she wrapped her fingers around the waistband and tugged your bottoms down, revealing your underwear and the curve of your arse. john groaned, stepping back to help his wife, pulling your trousers down your legs with one hand until they pooled at your ankles.

mrs. price then pulled down your underwear, causing john to groan again as he slotted himself back against you, holding you still. your arse was soft and warm against him, his hard, leaking cock nestled between your cheeks as he continued to slowly grind himself against you.

you moaned loudly, eyes still blurry with emotion when mrs. price leaned down to kiss you— shoving her tongue into your mouth and parting your trembling lips. you kissed her back (tried too) as she grew more and more dominant, her tongue probing and teeth nipping. you whimpered, and she swallowed the sound with one hand holding your jaw.

now, john had shifted his hard cock to rest the ruddy head against your cunt, smearing your arousal around your puffy clit. he moaned beneath his breath, the wet warmth of it forcing him to screw his eyes shut. when he finally notched the head at your entrance, he moaned your name, and you moaned his, breaking out of the kiss and whimpering against his wife’s lips.

“m’sorry for ignoring you,” you babbled as john’s cockhead nestled itself inside you, then stopped. desperation (and the stretch) making you delirious. “and m’so sorry for going on a date. i just wanted your attention.”

“poor girl,” john grunted, pulling his cock out and circling the wet hole with his tip. you moaned loudly and mrs. price continued to pet the side of your head. john looked over at his wife. “darling?”

his wife looked up. “yeah?”

“hop up on the counter,” he told her. “let her say sorry with her mouth on your pussy.”

she did as she was told as you whimpered at his words. still holding the back of your neck, john pulled you away from the counter so his wife could settle herself on top after wriggling her skirt and underwear down. she spread her legs, smiling warmly, and the sight of her soaked core made a whimper bubble out of your throat.

but before you were allowed to press forward, price tightened his hold and straightened your body, pressing your back flat to his chest. his cock, hot and wet between your legs, finally pushed into you. you moaned as he bottomed out, pelvis snug to your bare arse.

“see how wet she is for you?” price whispered in your ear, not moving his cock inside you. dormant and throbbing. “now, you’re gonna make my wife come on your tongue, an’ i’m gonna make you come ‘round my cock. got it?”

you nodded quickly, watching as mrs. price gently spread her folds open with her fingers, revealing her dripping hole. you whimpered again when she whispered your name as a finger encircled her clit.

then, price was bending you over once more, removing the hand on your neck and instead placing two on your hips so he could anchor you to him. he then pulled all the way out, slapped the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times, before thrusting in deeply and setting an even pace of fucking you.

you moaned as the movement pushed you into mrs. price’s awaiting cunt, your mouth sealing over her clit and your hands wrapping around her thighs to hold yourself steady. she moaned, arching against you, a hand shooting down to hold your head against her.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, baby. just like that,” she moaned, bucking her hips against your face as you moved your mouth from her clit down to her hole. you licked through her folds until you were able to curl your tongue into her hole. she moaned your name loudly and price grunted behind you.

his pace was brutal, hips slapping, hands a vice against your pliable flesh. he grunted with each thrust, a subtle “uh, uh, uh” beneath his breath as the tip of his cock hit that perfect spot inside you. he could feel the way your pussy tightened around him, fluttering wet and hot around the girth of his cock.

“that’s a good girl,” he praised, eyes sweeping from where his cock entered you, to where you were eating his wife out. “our good girl. n’ such a perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

you whined into mrs. price’s cunt, tongue swiping in and out, up and down, nose nudging her swollen clit. her thighs tightened around your head as she let out a string of pretty sounds, including high-pitched keens of your name and john’s.

john looked up at his wife, her eyes hooded with pleasure as she watched you, her hips writhing and grinding against your face, thighs flexing around your head.

“how’re you feeling, darling?” john asked his wife as he reached a hand around to roll a couple of fingers over your clit.

his wife moaned, locking eyes with him. “so fuckin’ good, john. she’s so good— making me feel so good.”

below, you keened at the praise, redoubling your efforts and really wanting her to come in your mouth. you shut your eyes and focused on fucking her hole with your tongue as they talked about you, praising you.

“she’s such a good girl for us,” john said. “such a good girl with a pretty little pussy. she’s perfect for us, isn’t she?”

“yessss,” his wife moaned. “perfect.”

“fuckin’ perfect,” john increased the weight of his thrusts, bullying his cock into the tight heat of your cunt faster and harder, drawing more pleasured sounds from you. he grunted with each movement. “fuckin’ perfect and all ours. isn’t that right, darling? she’s all ours.”

“yeah, all ours— oh, fuck, baby, m’gonna come,” she whined down at you, then to her husband, “john, john m’gonna come.”

“yeah? you’re gonna come in her mouth?”

“please,” she replied through a mewl. “want to come in her mouth, john. she’s— ohhh— making me feel so good.”

john chuckled. “go on then, come for her.”

mrs. price moaned your name loudly and, with your tongue fucking her through it, she came into your mouth. you moaned, the vibrations heightening her orgasm, her hand tightening on your head and holding your face hard between her legs.

by now, you weren’t far behind. the combination of john’s heavy thrusts hitting that perfect spot inside you, the taste of his wife, and the way they talked about you, made you tighten up and come around price’s cock.

you moaned, still muffled between mrs. price’s legs, as you came, your entire body trembling, a thin layer of sweat coating your exposed skin. john moaned along with you, feeling your cunt squeeze around his cock, making his pace stutter.

“fuck,” he cursed, balls drawing tight as his thrusts grew sloppy. “oh, fuck, baby.”

“come inside her, john,” his wife pleaded.

happy wife, happy life.

john released inside of you, coming right up against the base of your cervix with a guttural groan and his hands still clamped around your hips. his wife watched her husband fill you, and whimpered softly, pulling your head out from between her thighs and resting it in her lap, stroking you lovingly.

“good girl, baby,” she praised. “did so well for us.”

“she always does,” price affirmed, cock still inside you, but leaning up to place a kiss to the back of your head. he gave his wife a kiss too.

you muttered out something, a sated thank you as your high slowly began to fizzle away. but you closed your eyes, revelling in the way they touched you, kissed you, held you.

“what about i run you a bath and we can sit together for a little while, while john makes us something to eat, hm?” mrs. price asked you, holding your head in both hands now, rubbing your temples gently.

john huffed. “why can’t i go in the bath with her?”

“because i want too, darling. now be a good boy and fetch us something to eat.”

price grumbled, but listened to his wife, pulling out of you reluctantly to begin rifling through your cupboards. mrs. price then shimmied off the counter and wrapped you in her arms, holding your head to her chest.

she kissed the crown of your head. “let us take care of you.”

#cuck!price lmao #wrote this on a (horny) whim so apologies if there’s errors or if it’s just plain hard to read lol #k anyway lol 💕#captain john price smut #john price call of duty #price smut #price cod #price call of duty #john price smut #call of duty smut #captainfern

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 8 days

Text

Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), handjob, sub Loki, edging & overstimulation, forced submission kinda, hair pulling, a lil choking, I hope that's everything lol

Genre: smut and I guess fluff

Summary: You make Loki realize something about himself that he was not expecting to learn.

***

You plop down on the couch with your bowl of chips, getting comfortable to watch TV.

"Are you out here by yourself?" Loki's voice surprises you. You hadn't heard him come down the hall.

"Yeah." You glance at him over your shoulder with a shrug.

"Why?" His eyes narrow.

"I'm watching TV. You are familiar with that particular activity aren't you?"

"Yes I am, but why out here alone?" Loki rolls his eyes before sticking his head into the fridge.

"I wanted to leave my room. You're welcome to join me." You shrug.

"Why would I do that?" He scoffs.

"Believe it or not, some people enjoy doing things with other people in different spaces, you awkward little hermit." You roll your eyes. You walk over to the kitchen for a drink, realizing you forgot one.

"I am not a hermit." Loki crosses his arms. You grab a soda and walk over to Loki, leaning in close enough that he leans back suspiciously.

"This is the first time you've been out your room in like a week." You tell him.

"That is not true!" He steps away from you indignantly.

"It is, and that's fine. If that's how you like to live, I'm not judging you for it. But for me anyway, a change of scenery is good for the mind." You shrug walking back over to the couch.

"That doesn't make an ounce of sense."

"To each their own." You hum.

"You are a strange woman."

"Because I'm watching TV?" You tilt your head curiously.

"You spend your time so differently from everyone else here." He says.

"Yeah believe it or not I am an individual."

"That's not what I meant."

"No?"

"I just meant that most of the tower is left unoccupied from day to day, except you, you seem to- be everywhere." He frowns.

"If you're content never leaving your room that's fine, like I said I prefer a change of scenery. Helps mark the passage of time when we're not off saving the world." You shrug.

"There is next to nothing worth doing on this miserable planet."

"You are ridiculously negative." You chuckle, pressing play on your movie of choice for tonight. Clearly, this conversation with Loki is over, you have no interest in going back and forth about his cynicism. You hear him take a sharp breath, if you had to guess it's like one of those breaths you take before speaking but he doesn't say anything and eventually you hear his shoes along the floor and you smirk as you check that he is indeed gone.

It's not necessarily that you enjoy getting under Loki's skin the way you so obviously do, but it is rather easy and no one else speaks to him, which is kind of sad. To be clear you don't pity him, in fact this back and forth he reluctantly engages in is you refusing to treat him any different than you would anyone else on the team. It just so happens that he's easy to rile up and you find it funny but really this is just you being inclusive.

"You know y/n I don't get how you do it." Tony drunkenly says. It's supposed to be game night but after an hour Tony's of course too drunk to play so now you're all just talking.

"How I do what, Stark?" You ask.

"Deal with reindeer games the way you do."

"Reindeer ga- do you mean Loki?" You blink at him. You're not even sure how the group ended up on the subject, he's not here. How long were you checked out of the conversation?

"Yes obviously." He scoffs.

"It would be obvious if you used his name. Why are we talking about him, anyway?"

"Tony decided the next topic of conversation would be the team and somehow we got to how Loki is pretty much a recluse." Natasha explains to you.

"Exceeeept he talks to you. How does that work?" Tony asks.

"I dunno man I just poke fun at him like I do the rest of you and wait til he gets red in the face." You shrug.

"You mess with him on purpose?" Thor frowns.

"No, no! Not- really? He just, okay I don't try to get under his skin exactly, it's just when he engages with me, it seems like he expects hostility. I just give him back what I get from him and I don't think he knows how to handle that. But he keeps talking to me so I guess something about it gets through to him."

"That's very weird." Tony says.

"You're really in no place to judge Tony, we all know your list of idiosyncrasies is practically never ending." You roll your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is idiosyncrasies too big a word for our resident mad scientist?" You ask.

"I know what the word idiotsinkities means." He scoffs.

"Right." You hum. The others burst into laughter at Tony's slurred attempt at defending himself. It seems to be enough to change the subject and the rest of the night proceeds without another weird interrogation- especially once Tony passes out.

You lean against the wall as you listen to this guy, Jack, talk. He's close enough for you to smell his cologne, mostly to be heard over the music and the crowd of partygoers. You laugh at some silly joke of his, because he's cute and you'll probably end up making out with him in a quiet corner of the tower later if he doesn't say something stupid before you make that decision. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention from your conversation. Loki is standing there with his arms crossed and faced squeezed.

"Oh? Look who's come out to play." You muse.

"Do you know this guy?" Jack frowns.

"Jack, this is Loki, he's on the team. Loki this is my new friend Jack. Don't be rude, say hello." You nod your head towards Jack. Loki narrows his eyes as if sizing Jack up.

"Hey man. Nice to meet you." Jack puts his hand out to Loki.

"I don't shake hands." Loki says.

"Right- did you need something? We were, kind of talking." Jack says.

"I don't care what you were doing." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Play nice Loki." You say, practically singing the warning.

"I'm not a dog." Loki glares at you.

"Well don't go around snarling like one." You snap.

"Is something- going on between you two?" Jack frowns.

"No." You say firmly.

"Alright well I'm going to get another drink, do you want anything?" He asks.

"Just you back here soon." You wink at him.

"I'll be as quick as I can." Jack kisses your cheek and walks off while Loki breathes incredibly noticeably agitated as he rolls his eyes ago.

"Alright Loki, what is your problem?" You scoff.

"He looks like a jungle cat."

"Really? I don't see jungle cat honestly, he kind of looks like a deer to me." You hum.

"Not in his appearance I mean the way he was closing in on you, like a lion waiting to attack a gazelle." He frowns.

"What? You don't think I can handle the big scary man Loki? Don't insult me, I've killed things that would eat him for an afternoon snack." You scoff.

"It's not that I think you can't handle him. Something about him was just- off. Didn't like his energy."

"Something was off? You didn't like his energy? Really that's what we're going with?" With a hand on his chest you press Loki against the wall.

"What else could I possibly be going with?" Loki tries to keep his voice steady, but with your hand now trailing down his abdomen you can feel muscles tensing under your touch.

"Truthfully I think somebody didn't quite enjoy seeing me pay so much attention to Jack. Don't worry Loki, he couldn't possibly replace you." You hum.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffs. You smirk as your hand dances lower and you watch him go stock still when your fingers trace along the waistband of his pants.

"You won't get anywhere by lying to me you know." You say. His mouth drops open slightly as you curl your fingers for your nails to gently caress his skin. "Do you want me to stop Loki?" You whisper in his ear teasingly. As if a bucket of ice water was dumped on him you watch Loki jump back out of your reach and clear his throat before walking off with a glare. You frown as you watch him go, perhaps you pushed too far this time. You think you need to apologize. You start to make your way through the crowd and somehow get caught by Jack.

"Hey, where are you off to?" He asks.

"Looking for you actually, I need a bathroom but I didn't want you to think I was leaving you hanging. If you go back to our little corner I will find you again shortly, alright?" You tap his chest and bat your eyelashes before spinning away from him to continue your task of tracking Loki down. You pop into the nearest empty room.

"Friday, where the hell did Loki go?" You ask her. The tower is huge and since you lost sight of him while talking to Jack it could take you forever to find him on your own.

"He's on the Balcony lounge at the end of the hall upstairs." Friday tells you.

"Thank you!" You tell her, heading for the stairs. Sure enough, there's Loki brooding on the balcony by himself. You slide open the door and Loki's head whips around. When his eyes settle on you, they narrow.

"I've had it with your games tonight." He says.

"No games. I actually wanted to apologize." You say.

"For what?" He regards you suspiciously.

"If I went too far just now. I'm never trying to make you uncomfortable with the teasing. If I crossed a line I want you to know I wasn't trying to and I respect your boundaries." You say gently.

"You think that made me uncomfortable?" He scoffs.

"Well you did quite literally run away."

"You do realize I'm a god, don't you?"

"So what?" You shrug.

"People worship me y/n."

"People worship me too Loki. Shall I start calling myself a goddess?" You cross your arms.

"Of course not." Loki looks at you incredulously.

"Well I'm just saying darling if you're quantifying your power here by being worshiped there are people who would tell you I am the path to heaven. Or, I suppose for you it would be Valhalla, right?" You tilt your head.

"That's rather presumptuous."

"Don't misunderstand here. I never asked them to deify me but who am I to deny those who believe I know the entrance heaven's gate?"

"And where is that?"

"Heaven's gate?" You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow up at him. "I don't think you can handle the answer to that question Loki, truthfully."

"You have no idea what I can handle." He frowns.

"I'm sure you're very capable honey but you've made it clear that you and I have... very different types." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The frown deepens.

"Why did you run off? If you weren't uncomfortable, what made you run and hide?" You ask.

"How does this pertain to my question?" Loki shakes his head.

"My question is the answer to yours."

"I don't follow."

"Answer the question, and I'll offer an explanation." You say. Loki lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Your behavior, is disarming."

"And you don't like being disarmed?" You tilt your head.

"It's not something I'm used to."

"Right." You hum.

"So?"

"You said if I answered you'd explain the connection." Loki says.

"I like disarming people. It's something I do quite well, and often. You don't seem too fond of that. Which- obviously wouldn't work."

"It's something you do well with mortals. I'll remind you I'm a god."

"So you've said but I did it pretty well to you like five minutes ago." You shrug.

"You caught me off guard." He frowns.

"It's not like I couldn't do it again."

"That's a rather bold assumption. One that I'm inclined to disagree with." His brow furrows.

"That's cute." You chuckle.

"I'm not so easily frazzled as your pathetic midgardian males." Loki insists.

"What just happened does not support that claim, but your insistence is exactly what I'm talking about when I say you're not my type. Putting you in your place would be so much trouble." You shrug.

"Putting me in my place?! On the contrary darling I would have you begging me. You'd call me king."

"What do I care for a king when there people who call me their god?" You scoff tugging at Loki's shirt to bring his face closer to yours. "Do you get it yet Loki? You want control and I'm unwilling to give it. You think too small to ever command me."

"You don't know that." His eyes narrow.

"Your breathing stuttered when I grabbed your shirt. Plus there's not a creature in all the nine realms thinking big enough to command me darling. Don't worry it's not just you." You wink at him pulling back and turning away from him to leave.

"Your attitude is insufferable." Loki growls grabbing your wrist and pinning you against the building with a hand around your throat.

"Is it?" You smile trailing your fingers from his wrist up his arm. You watch his jaw tense as his eyes snap between your face and your hand a couple of times before his gaze settles on you. His grip on your neck tightens as your fingers reach his shoulder. There, you shoot your hand quickly into his hair, fisting a handful of it and yanking, hard. Loki's head snaps back and his knees almost buckle as a strangled moan escapes from him. Your other hand grabs his wrist attached to the hand on your neck, his grip has loosened to practically nothing from your sudden hair pull but this is about power and control and if he's determined to convince you he's got some here you're determined to ensure he knows that's not true. "Let go Loki." You say in that sultry commanding tone you usually reserve for submissives. Slowly, his fingers unfurl until they no longer hold you and you finally release his hair, only to knock his ankle in such a way that he drops to his knees. He snaps his head up towards you with a glare in his eyes but all you do is smirk at him. "Shame you're such a brat, you look so good on your knees for me." You hum tilting his chin slightly. You lean forward, close enough to feel his heavy breaths against your face. "Goodnight Loki." You whisper. You drag your finger from his chin up his cheek and then turn away, leaving him on his knees on the balcony with more questions than he can answer as you return to the party.

The loud knock on your bedroom door pulls your attention from the show you're watching. You almost don't want to get up but whoever is looking for you seems rather incesent so you roll out of bed and swing open the door to find Loki in the hall.

"Loki? What are you doing here?" You cross your arms and lean against your doorframe.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Look whatever Tony said to upset you, you can always get him back by calling out that he's a spoiled brat with daddy issues and a lack of self control so embarrassingly pathetic it's a miracle Pepper wants to be within 10 feet of him let alone spend the rest of her life with him." You sigh.

"That was- scathing and rather immediate, do you just spend your free time thinking of nasty things to say?" Loki blinks at you.

"No but I do have an arsenal of harsh comments if ever I need to hurt someone's feelings." You shrug.

"I'll- keep that in mind but this isn't about Anthony Stark." He shakes his head.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Could I- do you mind if come in?" He asks. You poke your head into your room checking for anything you don't want him to see.

"Fine." You say after confirming your room is clean. You open the door fully and let him through the doorway. "What's this about Loki?"

"The party the other night. Do you, remember what we talked about?" Loki asks.

"Well yes but you'll need to be more specific on where this is going."

"I just, I've been thinking about it and I think you're wrong and I'd like to prove it to you."

"Oh this should be good. Wrong about what exactly? Because I think I made myself quite clear. You'll never get the control from me that you seem to think you want." You shrug.

"No that much is obvious. But you said I wasn't your type and I think that's- not true." Loki's brow furrows as he speaks.

"What a shocking turn of events." You hum.

"Do not mock me." He sighs.

"I'm not. You were so insistent you couldn't possibly fit the bill I'm surprised by the turn around."

"Believe me so am I but, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. Something about you forcing me to my knees I just- something happened."

"Something happened?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You disarmed me again but- I liked it. I think. And I'd like to try and understand that."

"Say it Loki."

"You said your partners worship you, show me how to do the same." Loki says.

"And you're sure you want this? If you misbehave I can be very mean."

"I'm sure." He nods.

"Then we'll have to discuss some things first. I won't touch you until I've asked some questions." You shake your head.

"Ask me anything."

"How do you feel about restraints?"

"No handcuffs. Ropes are fine."

"How are you with pain?"

"I don't know my limits but I'm not- opposed." He says.

"I'm not going to paddle you or anything darling it's much too soon for any of that but we'll use a stoplight system anyway. I'll check in frequently but at any point you can say yellow if you realize you're reaching a limit or red if you need something to stop. You'll also need a safeword."

"I don't need a safewor-"

"I don't know your limits, you don't even know your limits. It's a nonnegotiable Loki, you need a safeword. Pick one." You say.

"If I must, I'll use another color. Gold."

"Gold?"

"It's easy to say, I wear it a lot, do you think it'll get confusing?"

"Nope. As long as it's something you can remember." You shrug.

"I can remember gold." He says.

"Then gold it is. And Loki?"

"Yes?"

"You must promise me you will use it if you need to." You say.

"I won't need to."

"Don't start with that nonsense." You roll your eyes. "I need to know you'll use it if it comes to that."

"Fine. If it comes to that, I'll use it." He nods.

"Good. Couple more components. Overstimulation and or edging. Where do you fall?"

"I think you underestimate my resilience." He frowns.

"These are things I ask all of my submissives Loki you are not exempt. Not everyone likes the same things. You're lucky I'm not making you fill out my entire questionaire right now. You'll have to do that later." You scoff.

"I have homework already?"

"If you want this to continue after today you will. For now, overstimulation and edging."

"That's fine with me."

"Toys?"

"Can we- hold off on those until we have a longer conversation about it?"

"Absolutely. How do you feel about names? Do you like being called mean things? Are there certain pet names you don't like?"

"When you say mean things-" Loki trails.

"Mean names like slut or whore, I might scold you for 'making a mess', or tease you for being responsive."

"If- you say something that strikes a nerve I'll say so. Otherwise proceed whatever way feels natural." He says.

"Do you have any questions?" You ask.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Well that's the end of the preliminaries."

"So we can start now?"

"You think you're ready?"

"Yes."

"Kneel."

Loki drops to his knees hesitently, looking at you with wide eyes.

"From here on you'll address me as mistress, is that understood?"

"Yes... mistress." Loki says. You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide how he feels about it.

"I know I said this the other night but you really do look so perfect on your knees for me." You hum grabbing his chin. You wrap your fingers around his throat and bend over to kiss him. Loki reacts eagerly to your kiss, leaning up into you as much as you'll allow given your hand still holding his neck. When you pull away his mouth tries to follow yours but you hold him in place. Part of you just wants to look at Loki on his knees for a couple of hours, one day you'll tie him up real pretty and take pictures of him kneeling for you. "You want to learn how to worship me do you?"

"Please mistress." Loki breathes out. God that was hot. You're already thinking of ways to make him beg. You pull your shorts off and Loki's gaze falls to the apex of your thighs, still covered by your underwear, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Take my underwear off, with your teeth. Just your teeth." You tell him. Loki leans forward and latches onto a corner of your panties with his teeth. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it but you watch as Loki works them over your hips slowly. Once they're off, you thread your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to angle his gaze back up to yours. "Let's see if that silver tongue of yours is good for anything other than those silly retorts of yours hm?" You hum shoving Loki's face towards your pussy. He reacts quickly, tongue lapping at your center with fervor. You tug at his hair, arching towards his mouth, as he works you.

"That's it Loki, keep going." You moan. Loki looks up at you while he seemingly tries out a few patterns, trying to work out what you like best. You pull his hair when he does something you like, enjoying the way he groans when you do. "Wrap your lips around my clit and suck." You tell him. Loki is quick to follow your instructions and it doesn't take long for you to coat his mouth in evidence of your orgasm. You pull his head away from you, petting his head affectionately. "That was a good start. Up. Lay on the bed and take off your shirt." You instruct stepping back. Unsteadily, Loki stands up and walks over to your bed, stripping his shirt before he lays down. His body is stiff, probably since your instruction was vauge.

"Relax Loki. You look so- rigid." You chuckle sitting next to him on the bed. You allow yourself to simply admire his exposed chest, using your fingers to trace the plains and valleys of lean muscle that tense up at your touch. Eventually, you drag your hand down, dancing along the edge of his pants allowing the anticipation to build before you slip your hand beneath his jeans. Over his boxers, you stroke his dick, tracing veins and feeling it's size through his underwear.

"Uh... M-mistress?" He says breathily.

"What is it Loki?" You hum, with your free hand you work his jeans down his legs enough to see what you're doing to him. His grey boxers are already a bit darkened from pre-cum.

"If, if you keep doing that I'm- I'm afraid I'll make a mess of myself rather early." Loki frowns.

"So what?"

"W-well it's it's embarrassing mistress." He says, though little grunts interrupt his words.

"Embarrassing? So you don't want me to touch you?" You ask slowing your movements.

"N-no mistress that's not what, I do, want you to touch me. If that's what you want to do." He scrambles.

"See that's what I thought." You say speeding up again. Loki jerks against your hand low moans filling the room as you watch him react to your touch. You continue to stroke him over his boxers, watching the darkened spot of pre-cum grow ever so slightly bigger. You notice immediately when Loki's hands grip your sheets tightly. He must be getting close. It prompts you to increase your ministrations.

"M-mistress wa-wait stop I, I'm too close- I'll ruin my-" Loki doesn't finish his sentence. A shuddering moan accompanies the visual of his orgasm darkening most of the front of his boxers, wet streaks ruining much of the light grey fabric. There's something you quite enjoy about the sight even as Loki's cheeks tinge pink with shame. "I'm sorry." He mutters.

"Don't apologize. I wanted that to happen. As for the rest of your orgasms you'll have to earn them. You must ask for my permission to cum for the rest of the session. If you cum without my permission there will be consequences. Am I understood?" You grab his chin to make him look at you.

"Yes mistress." Loki says, eyes wide, searching your face, for what you're not sure.

"Good." You say pulling his dick out of his soiled boxers. You lick along the length once, reveling in the hiss Loki lets out no doubt from sensitivity. His previous orgasm makes for plenty of lubricant as you begin stroking him again, slowly. Loki's breaths come out in shudders and you lean over to place kisses and hickeys along his throat. Each bloom of red along his neck and chest pulls sweet moans from him until the sensitivity wears off. Soon, surprisingly soon, you see him grab the sheets again.

"Mistress I, I'm close-"

"So soon? Wow." You taunt.

"Can I cum mistress?"

"But before you didn't want to. Remember? You even asked me to stop." You slow down, almost stopping.

"No nonono that was- that was different I didn't mean it that way-" he seems to give up on his defense in favor of a groan at the sudden decrease in stimulation.

"Well, I was so kind in giving you the first one and you didn't even thank me. So you'll have to really convince me you want another." You shrug when his harsh breathing slows a bit you pick up the pace of your strokes again. When Loki grips the sheets you slow down again and when the tension dissipates you pick up. You do this three or four more times before Loki's moans start to transform in to pathetic sounding whines, his chest is red, his knuckles are white, and his dick is throbbing in your hand.

"Please- mistress." Loki pants.

"Please what baby boy?"

"I can't- I can't do it. I need to cum, I need to, please. Please mistress."

"You need to?"

"Please! Please mistress. Please let me cum. Oh god I need you to. Please." Loki's begging is boarderline hysteric, he's trembling and half of his words come out as moans.

"I do love to hear you beg."

"Please!" He whines out.

"Oo that was a good one. Very well, go ahead and let go for me sweetheart." You say sweetly, stroking faster to help him along. A few pumps later and he's spilling onto himself and your hand with a cry that makes your walls clench around nothing. You continue stroking him through it and even after he's coming down. You wonder if you can't pull one more from him. Loki jolts against your touch, scrambling as if to escape it but unable to go anywhere really.

"G-g-gold! Gold. I can't. Please." Loki pants out.

"Hands up." You say as you do exactly that. "Sorry Lo I- guess I got carried away. I'll get a towel for you." You get off the bed and grab a towel, wetting one side to clean him off and using the other to dry him after. You hand him an extra blanket after. "Give yourself some time to recoup okay?"

"You're cruel."

"I wasn't trying to be. You just- fell into your role so well. I told you I'm not easy. But I'll remember you're still new to this and be sure to treat you gently in the future. Mr. you underestimate my resillience."

"I can handle it."

"With time I'm sure. No rush now." You shrug.

"Wait- don't go anywhere please." Loki grabs your wrist.

"You need water honey."

"Later." Loki tugs hard enough to pull you into the bed next to him. You sigh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair gently. Loki will make for one interesting submissive if he decides this is something he wants long term. You'll have your work cut out for you, but maybe he's better suited for this than you think. Only time will tell I suppose.

***

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