vamps4lofi

[vamps4lofi]

G5

[vamps4lofi]

Joker! (Actually my first time drawing him)

[vamps4lofi]

"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

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[vamps4lofi]

★ trust. trust who?   𓂃 k. kozume x f. reader

cw. MINORS DNI. word count ; 3.5k. smut. third year! kenma. p in v sex. use of condoms (wrap before you tap it folks). loss of virginity. fingering. constant reassurance. turned into light angst at the end (sorry). first time writing smut (i do take constructive criticism, so pls point out what i could be doing better. thank you!).

syn. you’ve been here before; standing in this doorway, asking kenma for something. last time was childs play. this time, though? this time it’s monumental.

The TV light flickers off, leaving you in complete darkness save for the light coming from your phone, and you realize you’ve stayed up too late. 

You point your phone down towards your chest, sneaking a peak at Keiko. It dawns on you that she’s probably been asleep for a while now. You hadn’t heard the random laughter and comments about the movie that had been playing for some time.

The hum of the AC and very faint sounds of gunshots are all you hear. A normal person would be confused and maybe even scared, but you’ve stayed at the Kozume residence enough to know that it’s just Kenma playing video games. Again.

You let out a sigh and glance around the dark room. There’s not much to do out here except play on your phone— your dying phone. Leave it up to you to forget a charger and forget to ask for one before Keiko falls asleep.

Eventually, you flip your blanket off your legs and stand. The hardwood floor is freezing cold even through your socks. A shiver runs down your spine as you tiptoe towards Kenma’s room. You stop just before it, leaning forward to put your ear against it.

You can hear Kenma cursing quietly, the repetitive clicking of his keyboard, the hum of his PC. Through the crack at the bottom of the door, you can see blue light and white flashes every so often.

You and Kenma have always gotten along. When Keiko brought you over for the first time, when you were in your last year of middle school and Kenma was a first year in high school, you two had an immediate understanding of each other. Kenma didn’t like to talk, and you did. You two left each other alone for the most part.

But, the older you get, the more things change. Kenma grew taller, he grew leaner from volleyball, he somehow got more handsome than before. He got friendlier with you, too. You’re not around him enough to know if he got like that with other people, but it’s nice.

You bring your balled fist up to the door, and only hesitate for a moment before knocking twice. “Kenma?” You whisper, trying to get his attention. When nothing changes in the sounds coming from inside the room, you knock again. “Open the door, gamerboy.”

There’s a pause in the noise now. No more curses from Kenma, no more faint gunshots. Instead, the sound of creaking floorboards replaces it. There’s a shadow in front of the door and then it opens. The blue LED lights almost blind you with how bright they are.

Kenma has his hair back. Unbidden, but strong, the feeling of pure attraction shoots through your body, making you shiver involuntarily. He has his headset on, but one of the sides is farther back on his head, leaving one ear open for him to hear the outside world. His hoodie is too big for him— like all of his hoodies— and he probably wore those sweatpants to bed last night.

How can one look like a slob, yet so hot at the same time?

“What?” He almost sounds annoyed, but by the way he keeps glancing back at his monitor, you can tell he’s probably in a match right now.

“Um, sorry. Am I interrupting something?”

One more time, he glances back, then sighs and looks back at you. “Not anymore. What’s up?”

Suddenly, you get nervous. You’ve done this once before— your first year, when all your friends were bragging about their first kiss and you still hadn’t had yours. You showed up to Kenma’s door in the middle of the night and asked him to kiss you. And, for some strange reason, he did. Right there in the doorway. You two didn’t speak about it the next morning when he joined you and Keiko for breakfast, and you certainly didn’t tell Keiko about it when you finally revealed to her that you’d had your first kiss.

This question, this ask, is different, though. A much more intimate act to do in the doorway.

“Um, I have, uh, a question for you,” you mumble out, looking down at your socked feet. There’s a part of you that is already regretting coming to his door. And there’s another part of you that’s aching. For this? For Kenma? You’re not sure.

“Okay.” Out of your peripheral vision, you can see his own socked feet shuffling around. Probably antsy to get back to his game, you think.

The palms of your hands start to sweat as you twist your fingers around. If you look up at him while you ask this question, you’ll never recover. The thought of rejection makes you want to throw up in embarrassment.

You take a deep breath, letting your eyes fall shut, and ask on the exhale. “Will you take my virginity?”

The silence that hangs in the air is deafening. A silent killer. Your stomach starts to turn and you can almost feel the bile rising in your throat. This was a horrible idea. He’s your best friend's older brother— if he says no, you’ll still have to deal with him for the rest of your life. He’s probably going to tell his friends about you. His little sister's desperate friend. God, you think you’re going to pass out.

You turn your body away from him, preparing to do the walk of shame back to the living room couch, but he stops you by grabbing your arm. You freeze in his grasp. You’re going to turn around and he’s going to call a crazy lunatic for asking. him such a question.

“Why?” Is all he says. You blink at the ground a couple times. You ask him to take your virginity and his question is why? Out of pure disbelief, you look up and meet his eyes. They’re so genuine, you could sob. “You want me to take your virginity,” he states plainly. “Why?”

His fingers feel warm wrapped around your arm. Your skin is tingling. Your heart is racing. You swallow hard. “I trust you,” you mumble out, voice shaky. “You’re… I just trust you.”

You notice the furrow in his brow. You can tell his brain is working harder than it probably ever has before. You don’t want to, but you remove your arm from his grip. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry I asked. Just forget it, okay?”

You turn to leave again, but he sighs frustratedly and grabs you again. “Okay,” he says. You look at him, eyes wide. He glances down the hall in both directions, then pulls you into his room and shuts the door behind you. When he finally notices your surprised expression, he shrugs. “If you want to lose your virginity, I’d rather you do it with me than some random guy from school.”

It warms your heart a little bit and the thought of Kenma being jealous makes you discreetly squeeze your thighs together. He looks around his room awkwardly, finally landing on his PC.

“I should probably turn this off.” He gestures at it.

It dawns on you that he’s probably nervous too. Not as nervous as you, you’re sure, but nervous nonetheless. By the way he’s acting, though, you’re assuming he’s done this before. Just not with his little sister’s best friend. 

He walks over to his PC and turns it off, leaving the room illuminated in pure blue light. When he turns to look at you once again, your legs almost give out. You’re so nervous, you’re pretty sure you're shaking.

“You can sit down,” he says, taking a few steps towards you. He reaches up and scratches his neck. “We can’t really… do it standing. I mean, we can, it would just be, uh, awkward for your first time.”

You sit down on the very edge of his bed and stare at the ground. What are you doing? Asking Kenma, of all people, to take your virginity? Are you insane? You bite your bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth dig into the skin harshly. This is ridiculous.

You feel the bed dip, and your head starts to spin. Do you really need to lose your virginity? You have your whole life ahead of you! What if Kenma doesn’t enjoy it? What if it’s bad sex? What if—

“Are you sure you want to do this? Uh, with me, I mean.”

You look up to meet his eyes, and every negative thought reaching through your mind vanishes. You surge forward, placing your lips on his in a gentle kiss.

“Sorry,” you mutter, leaning back. “I’m sure, Kenma.”

His eyes dart down to your lips, then back to your eyes. With a small nod, he leans forward, putting his weight on one hand and cupping your face with the other.

It’s soft at first. Light kisses to the corner of your mouth, then to your lips, then down your neck. Your chest is rising and falling at a rapid rate. Your hands sit awkwardly at your side— what are you supposed to do with them?

Kenma lifts his head from your neck, eyes scanning your face. He glances at the top of his bed and nods his head. “Can you lay back? I have to…” he sighs, running a hand down his face. “We can’t just go straight into it. You know that much, right?” When you nod, so does he. “I have to prepare you.”

“Okay.” You scoot back until your back hits his pillow. His bed is comfortable, you think. You would probably get a really good night's sleep in it. You’re shaken out of your thoughts when Kenma comes into your vision, hovering over you.

“Can I take off your shorts?”

You swallow hard, but nod. Shit is getting Real now. He hooks his fingers under the band of sleep shorts and pulls them down, huffing out a breath of hot air.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” he says breathily. He looks up and you can feel your face heat up. You open your mouth to talk, but he runs his finger down your slit and you gasp, trying to squeeze your legs together. “You’re soaking. You—“ he cuts himself off, hesitating. “Just from a few kisses?”

He’s not looking at you, seemingly entranced by you and your wetness. After a few beats, he looks up, licking his lips. “Have you done this to yourself before?” He clears his throat. “I mean, is one finger going to hurt?”

You give him a meek, dumb nod. When your brain catches up, you shake your head. “I’ve, um, it’s not going to hurt. You can— Ah!” You let out a surprised gasp as he pushes a finger into you. It’s loud and you know it. “Sorry, I’m— sorry. That surprised me.”

“Keiko is sleeping in the living room. You have to be quiet or she’s going to wake up.”

“I know, I know.” You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip again. You bite down so hard, you can taste a little blood. Keiko finding out is probably your worst fear at the moment. You went to great lengths to hide a kiss from her, you’re not sure what she’s going to do when she finds out he took your virginity.

Tentatively, he pumps his finger in and out a couple times, watching your face for any sort of reaction. You almost can’t look him in the face. He shifts on the bed, pushing his fingers deeper and your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

His fingers continue moving, but his eyes are glued to your face. His eyes are lidded as he stares at you. “Can I put another one in?” Again, you nod silently. Slowly but surely, he adds another finger. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you gasp out. “No, it— shit, Kenma.” Your back arches off the bed just a bit and your eyes fall shut. If his fingers feel this good, how will you survive when he actually fucks you?

“There?”

His fingers speed up slightly and your hand shoots to your mouth, muffling the moans bubbling up in your throat. One of your legs, caged in between his own, twitches and brushes up against something. Something hard. The thought that you made Kenma hard makes you groan. “K- enma,” your speech is broken, interrupted by the arousal shooting through your body. “I’m ready. I—”

His fingers stop and the whine you let out is involuntary. You open your eyes and look down at him to find him staring intently. “I’ve only been fingering you for like, two minutes.”

“Kenma,” you whisper, brows furrowing. “Please.”

The way his face changes is instant. It looks like someone has flipped a switch in his brain. A brief memory flashes through your mind. Summer after first year, when you were staying over at Keiko’s for seemingly the umpteenth time, you needed something from the top shelf and neither of you could reach it. You had been in a boot because of a minor car crash, and Keiko had chosen just then to reveal her fear of heights. You had run to Kenma’s room, once again interrupting his video games, and asked him for help. He, of course, refused. But then you said his name and he looked at you. And you said, “Kenma, please.” And he stood up like a robot who had only one task in life; reaching the thing that you needed.

His sweatpants are off in an instant, laying in a haphazard pile on the ground, leaving him in his boxers. You think there’s flowers on them, but they might be cartoon characters instead. You’re not sure that matters right now. You meet his eyes again and they’re dark. A haze seems to have fallen over them. You swallow hard as he pulls down his boxers.

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. He’s huge. Keiko had once told you that gamer boys have the biggest cocks— are the freakiest— and, of course, you hadn’t believed her. Maybe you should have.

“Is that going to fit?” The question slips out of you, dumb and full of disbelief. “I— sorry, was that weird?”

And Kenma laughs. He laughs. “It’s fine. Not the first time I’ve gotten that reaction.” He pauses, squinting his eyes. “That was the douchiest thing I’ve ever said in my life. I sounded like Kuroo.”

You giggle at that. You’ve only met Kuroo a handful of times, but you can picture him saying that.

“I should get a condom.” He crawls over you, reaching into the drawer beside his bed. His cock brushes against your inner thigh and you shiver. 

This is it. You’re about to lose your virginity to your best friend's brother. There’s a feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, but the second Kenma is hovering over you again, ripping the condom open, it fades away.

You watch him slip the condom on curiously. He’s really hard, it’s almost surprising. For the millionth time tonight, he looks back up at you, seeking permission. You give him a nod, but your head seems to stutter, so you give him multiple. He smiles and lines himself up with your entrance. 

“This is going to be a little uncomfortable since you were so eager.”

You swallow hard and finally, finally he pushes in. It’s just the tip, but it’s stretching your hole more than you’ve ever gone before. Your face scrunches up in discomfort and he stops moving. “N- no,” you stammer out. He furrows his brows and you shake your head. “Keep going. I- I can take it.”

He hesitates, but pushes in more. He pulls his lip into his mouth, sucking in a breath. His head drops down, now watching himself disappear inside you.

Your head drops down to the pillow, mouth open, eyes closed. You’ve never felt anything like this. It doesn’t hurt, you don’t think. It’s just different.

And then Kenma lets out a huff of air, mouth falling open to match yours. He looks up and gives you a smile. “I’m all the way in. Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t hurt. It—” you shift, cutting yourself off when he hits what you can only assume is your g-spot. “Shit. Kenma, I—”

He pulls his hips back, then thrusts into you again. “C- can I move?” His voice is quiet, tight. “Fuck, you’re so warm inside.”

“Move.” You nod, reaching your hand out to grab his arm. Your grip is too tight, probably, but you can’t even begin to think about that right now. “You can— fuck, please move.”

This time, when he pulls his hips back, effectively leaving your weeping hole empty, he pulls back until only the tip is left inside of you. You clench around the cock remaining, biting your lip in a sad attempt to hide the whine that comes out of you.

And then he snaps his hips, sheathing himself inside of you in one thrust. You let out a noise, half-gasp, half-moan. Kenma’s hand slides up the side of your body, over your neck, then over your mouth. “You have to be quiet.” He punctuates the word with a thrust of his hips, pushing deeper inside of you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. 

“Mhm.” You nod frantically, though it’s sort of difficult with the way he’s holding your face, fingers gripping tightly and squishing your cheeks together.

He starts at a steady pace. In and out, in and out, in and out.  You’re bewildered by how full you feel, by how good he feels inside of you. It’s perfect, almost. He fits inside of you like he was made for you, perfectly sculpted to your insides. 

Your hand, formerly grabbing his arm tightly, moved to his hand, pulling it off your mouth. “F- faster, Ken- ah- Kenma. Faster.” You press your lips together and exhale through your nose, another attempt to quiet yourself. You didn’t even know you could be this loud.

His hands slip down to your thighs, gripping them tightly, fingers digging into the plush skin, and pistons into you at an unforgiving pace. Your back arches off the bed completely, mouth once again falling open in a mostly silent moan. Your chest is heaving, overwhelmed by the pleasure. There’s a familiar feeling building in your stomach— a knot, one might call it.

“Shit, shit,” Kenma curses breathily. You look up at him only to find him staring down at where he’s fucking into you. He looks so focused, you don’t even think he realizes that his grip on your thighs tightens and his pace gets faster.

As he hits that spot inside you, the one that sends a spark up of your spine, makes you want to close your legs and curl up into a ball, you think you’re going to cry. He hits it over and over and over again. That knot that was forming gets tighter, gets bigger, gets hotter.

You claw at his arms, a warning of your approaching climax. He jerks his head up to look at you and, for a brief moment, you get insecure. He’s seen all of you now, but you can’t help but think about how your face looks right now. The insecurity is washed away as Kenma lets out a quiet, yet genuine, moan. It’s hot and it’s nothing you’ve ever heard before.

“Kenma—”

“Fuck, Y/n. You’re so warm, so tight, so— ah—”

Your vision flashes white. Your back arches off the bed. The knot unravels and hot, hot pleasure shoots through your body. Your hand is over your mouth, muffling the slew of moans rolling off your tongue. 

For a final time, his cock brushes your g-spot and your orgasm almost violently rakes through your body, back arching impossibly, drawn out moan leaving your mouth, legs shaking faintly. 

Kenma follows your lead after a few more thrusts, and the feeling of his seed shooting into the condom makes you shiver. It’s a weird sensation. You both sit there for a moment, staring at each other, breathing heavily.

“Thank you,” you whisper, barely audible. Your eyes fall shut and you exhale heavily. “God, thank you.”

When you wake up the next morning, you’re still in Kenma’s bed. Panic shoots through you and you immediately sit up. The clock on Kenma’s wall says 6:30 AM. You look over at the sleeping boy and give him a soft smile.

And then the embarrassment of last night hits you, and you immediately get out of his bed and go back to the living room couch. If your legs hurt as you walk, you don’t say anything. When Keiko wakes you up, asking how you slept, you’ll tell her you slept fine.

And when Kenma finally wakes up, walks into the kitchen to have some breakfast, you’ll smile at him and pass the cereal as if nothing ever happened.

Maybe that’s your fate with Kenma.

[vamps4lofi]

u know what i woke up thinking about? arranged marriage but while he's deeply in love with you, you rationalize everything as doing your duty

[vamps4lofi]

Seeing footage of the aftermath of the flour massacre in Gaza is so painful

"Where is my daughter? Tell her I don't want flour anymore"

"My brother was shot holding a bag of flour. He kept holding on to it so they kept shooting him"

"Why does flour have to be stained with blood?"

Over 100 have been killed. Every single one of them hungry. Every single one of them has someone waiting for them to come back with the bag of flour.

Israel is using starvation as a weapon of war against innocent civilians. Israel ambushes starving Palestinians and shoots them. Israel is not fighting a war to defend itself. This is another episode of Israel's ongoing genocide in Gaza.

[vamps4lofi]

Joker, but with a virgin reader who barely understands sex stuff cuz they grew up overly sheltered and innocent, so he essentially has to teach them through it and introduce some kinky stuff to them

His Lighthouse: Sweet Girl (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Sweet Girl - Oneshot

Author’s note:  

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Hey hi anon!! I am so sorry it took me an entire week to fill this request! I got carried away and went down a perfectionist spiral trying to envision Joker in this situation. It was difficult to keep him in character but still caring enough for Y/n who is virtually clueless! I hope you enjoy the story!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher

Let me know if you want to be added to the His Lighthouse taglist!    

You are truly his sweet girl in every definition of the word.

Joker’s sweet little doll he so desperately wants to defile. He greatly admires your innocence and the way you view the world. Joker wants nothing more than to continue sheltering you, but he’s at his wit’s end holding back his passion.

Everyday his patience wanes and it’s only a matter of time before he pounces on his prey. You.

He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and hear you cry out in pleasure with every snap of his hips. He wants to see your brain turn off from an overload of pleasure. It’s not a want anymore but a need. He needs to break you.

He can’t wait anymore and judging by your coy smiles and teasing touches, he knows you want this too.

Although Joker should’ve known something was wrong since things between you and him never advanced any further than kissing. You would shy away the minute he grabbed your hips or tried to remove any article of clothing from you.

He should have noticed the telltale signs.

Months of hiding at your place in your pink little bubble, far far away from mean old Gotham City, and all that Joker had to show for as process with you was cuddling or making out.

Nothing more, nothing less. It was frustrating for sure.

Joker knew you were attracted to him; he saw it in the way your eyes widened and lingered on him.

You would bite your lip whenever he purposefully let his shirt ride up or whenever he picked you up to show off his strength. He even came out of the shower dripping wet without a towel once— you tucked tail and ran to your room.

Joker was using every trick in the book to get a reaction from you, however; you stayed demure and kept your hands to yourself. It was maddening!

Even at night when the two of you were preparing for bed, (separately, much to his irritation) he’d pull you close and rock his hips into yours.

“Wanna sleep with meee tonight, baby doll?” You would flush red and wiggle out of his arms before stampering out a million no’s and vanish from sight.

Joker hated hearing your door slam close but what could he do? He was running out of options.

There were so many clues in front of him regarding this dilemma but the truth finally came to light one day he had you trapped underneath him on the bed.

No more running. No more excuses. He was claiming you tonight.

He was attacking your neck with kisses and actively grinding his hard on into your pretty shorts. The skimpy things you wore around the house tested his limited sanity! Were you trying to seduce him? Bravo, because you succeeded. And he was supposed to be impervious to your charms and be a gentleman. Screw that.

Your body was a prize to be had and Joker waited long enough to have it.

He had the helm of your shirt balled up to your abdomen when you froze. “W-Wait um Joker. I-I..”

“Shhhh little bunny.. I just wanna see ya.”

You didn’t like that and tried pushing Joker up and off. How did he get you on the bed in the first place you wondered?

Joker noticed your aversion to his touch and growled in annoyance. Every freaking time he tried to get closer with you; you pushed him away. He had enough. He no longer had any patience to deal with this anymore.

“What’s the deal, hmm? You don’t li-ke me anymore?”

Your eyes immediately locked with his. “N-No! I like you.. it’s just…” You wavered.

“Just whaT? Hmm? Tell me bunny! Open that pretty… little mouth of yours and tell me.”

You did the exact opposite. You bit your lip and looked away from Joker. Your selective shyness was rather annoying at this point and Joker let his frustrations be known.

“You’re such a cocktease ya know that? Runnin’ around in these shorts and things making those little… noises when ya think I don’t notice. Yeah, I hear em doll. You’re killing me but the second I touch ya, this happens!” Joker gestured to you cowering away from him.

“What are ya, some virgin or something?” He sighed to himself. But then he looked down at you in shock when he heard your soft yes.

Oh. He was a f___king idiot.

You were holding back tears and the second Joker realized his mistake and touched your arm, they burst to the surface.

“Ohhh.. Bunny noo. Look at me.” You did and shined your e/c at him. “There she is.. my sweet girl. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He lied back on the bed and dragged you with him to recline on his chest. You were perfectly fine cuddling with J. Anything else after that was scary.

He couldn’t see your face since it was buried in his shirt so you answered truthfully.

“I.. I thought you knew..” You mumbled. Joker smacked his lips and started stroking your hair. You left it down today and he loved its wild, untamed state.

He really didn’t know and he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner and for making you feel uncomfortable around him. He worked so hard in the beginning to make you not fear him. He didn’t exaggerate his words as much, he cut down on his fear tactics around you, virtually everything about himself was altered to gain your trust.

You were a timid little thing, eager to help him hide from the GCPD in exchange for nothing. You cooked, cleaned, kept him company (just not sexually) all with a smile on your face. You were so naïve yet brave, of course Joker fell for you!

You laughed at his silly jokes and that smile of yours was worth losing pieces of himself to appease you. He’d do anything to make you happy.

But Joker wanted more. He wanted to be selfish.

He wanted to corrupt your sweet and innocent demeanor and mold it to his will. He wanted those big doe eyes of yours to cloud over with lust and your full plump lips to stretch around his cock as he choked you with it.

He knew you’d be perfect underneath him; you were already such a sweet thing. A true people pleaser; doing any and everything to make his stay at your place more enjoyable.

What he would really enjoy is your pussy milking his cock for what it's worth.

It’s all he thought about these days but you couldn't handle him removing your shirt, how in the world would he train you to be his cum-drunk bunny?

But Joker loved a challenge and you… you were worth the hassle.

“I never wanna scare my bunny away. She’s so perfect, and oh so sweet. Too sweet..” He kissed you so softly, it made your head spin.

Joker pulled back before things started to get heavy, “But I realllly wanna taste ya more, Y/n. You trust me?”

You looked down and away until Joker chased after you. “No no nooo. None of that. Don’t look away. I can teach you if you want.”

“Teach me? But what if... What if I’m not good enough?” You whimpered.

That’s what you were worried about? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was all in your head.

“Won’t know until you try.” He sang back. You seemed to understand that much and shifted your weight to straddle Joker more properly. He exhaled through his nose when you unknowingly rocked your hips into his dick.

“Okay. I think I wanna try now. Is that okay? C-Can we try right now, J?”

How could he say no to such a sweet request? You were so embarrassed yet enthusiastic about this, it made him go crazy. He kept his hands behind his head and sighed.

“Depends… How far ya wanna go?” He asked.

“What do you mean? How far with what?”

It took everything in Joker not to groan in frustration. Did your parents not teach you anything about sex? What kind of upbringing did you have to not know anything?

Joker wasn’t sure if he could handle teaching you from scratch but everyone had to start somewhere.

“What do ya know about sex, Y/n?”

He watched you squirm and bite your lip. You had to know something to be interested and he would wait to see what he was working with before going further.

“Um.. the doctor at the clinic said it shouldn’t h-hurt if my partner um.. p-preps me enough with foreplay. I think that means kissing and cuddling but once she brought out two dolls and started talking about positions I.. she lost me.”

Joker was lost too. “Doctor?”

You nodded and wiggled your hips against him. You seriously had to stop doing that..

“I went to get checked after I saw you come out of the shower that day. I got really wet and uncomfortable um, d-down there, and nothing I did made the feeling go away. S-So I panicked and went to the clinic! It was super embarrassing but I think I understand the logistics of it all a little better. Joker? Are you okay?”

You poked his cheek since he looked spaced out and he had every right to be.

Horny. You were horny and didn’t know why. Nothing you did made the feeling go away and he remembered back to that night when you trapped yourself in your room.

Just what all did you try? Did you get yourself off? How did you do it?

And then everything clicked. Your lingering eyes, the tiny shorts and flimsy tops. Those f__king thigh high socks… You started wearing them more and more frequently after his little shower stunt. Your body wanted him even if your brain didn’t comprehend.

He was gonna have so much fun corrupting you.

In the blink of an eye, Joker had you flat on your back with your arms above your head. You were in shock, it happened so fast.

Joker let out a shaky exhale and looked you over.

“Next time you feel wet, come to me. I’ll help.. relieve that pain, mkay? Do you feel wet now?” He asked as he grinded his knee into your sex. You jerked in his hold and winced.

“Um, a little.. that feels funny.”

“Describe it to me.” Joker purred into your ear. He trailed kisses down your neck to distract you from noticing he was lifting your top up.

Stupid thing wasn’t covering anything, it was so thin.

“Ah! I-I feel warm and.. it aches.. but I don’t know why. It’s almost like there’s an itch I need to scratch but I tried that!”

Joker had the brief image of your tiny hands poking and prodding your opening, trying desperately to soothe something only his cock could reach.

“Poor little bunny. Wanna know why it aches mmmh?”

He heard you sigh out a yes. By then Joker was kissing your heaving chest and had an idea. Why remove your top the boring way? Nothing about tonight would be normal.

You gasped as Joker tore your top right off your body. Your breasts bounced from the action and Joker groaned seeing them already erect sans a bra. Just the perfect size for him to squeeze and worship. He was drooling already.

He locked eyes with you with a wolfish smile. “Cuz your greedy little pussy wants my cock.

“Y-Your cock?”

Joker groaned and leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth while his hand got well acquainted with the other. It was so soft and tasted even better, but hearing your surprised moans was the topping on the cake.

You didn’t know your breasts could feel so good but Joker’s tongue swirling around the bud before his teeth bit it gently, was electrifying. It made the unknown feeling return tenfold.

“J-Joker! It’s back! I feel weird again..”

Joker let your nipple go with a loud pop and gave the same attention to its twin but not without subtly rocking his hips into yours. Your wail was torturous.

“No! T-That’s not it!” You sobbed even though your hips bucked up to meet Joker’s. Something about the motion felt right, but it was missing a key element. Then you remembered Joker’s comment.

“Can your umm.. cock fix it?”Joker groaned in pain. You would be the death of him. As if hearing you speak about it, his dick throbbed in his pants.

He looked up at your adorable pout and smiled. “Already using such ahh, vulgar language, baby doll. Goood girl. I knew your mouth was dirty.”

He kissed down your stomach until he reached the band of your shorts. You braced your weight on your elbows to watch him. How was your mouth dirty? Did you say something bad?

Never mind that, Joker was finally addressing the problem dead on. “Are you gonna fix it, J?”

He looked up at you, a bit out of breath.

“I will bunny, just not yeT. The doc said I gotta prep you, remember? Don’t wanna hurt my sweet girl now do I? Gotta hmmm.. tr-eat her right.. Can I take these off?”

He asked so nicely, you couldn’t say no. Anything to make this weird feeling go away, you’d do it.

You lifted your hips enough for Joker to slide your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. Of course you didn’t see him pocket said panties for safe keeping, but you quickly grew uncomfortable with the way he stared at your private parts.

Did it look weird? What if he didn’t like it? You most certainly didn’t. Any personal care was done as quickly as possible to avoid any unnecessary glimpses and you never looked at yourself the way Joker was right now.

He had yet to say anything but his unwavering gaze was starting to scare you. Did he have to stare for so long?

You whimpered and tried to cover your sex but Joker merely slapped your hand away.

“Stop looking at me…” You whined. That finally got Joker to meet your eye.

“Why not Y/n? Every part of you is sooo pretty. I wanna taste it…”

Before you could question the legitimacy behind his words, Joker licked your pussy with a guttural groan. The vibrations it left felt so good, you didn’t realize you grabbed a hold of his hair. Joker didn’t mind and quickly forgot about you being a virgin as he ate you out like a man on a mission.

“Soooooo sweet.. an’ juicy..” He said in between licks.

Joker tuned out your startled babbles and pleas to savor the unique taste of your pussy. Your juices fell on his tongue like ambrosia and he lapped up every last drop that you steadily produced with gusto.

It was an honor to be the first to taste you and Joker pulled out everything in his bag of tricks to take you to the summit. Your first orgasm. F__k he wanted it all for himself.

He flicked his tongue over your clit and ever so gently slid his middle finger inside your cunt.

“Joker!” You screamed.

He chuckled as he eased it in up to his knuckle but met resistance. “Hush now baby doll. I gotta get ya loosened up to take something muchhh bigger than this…”

Something bigger? Your mind couldn’t even fathom the thought. You writhed on his finger in a newfound agony until another sharp pain made you gasp.

Joker shushed you and kissed your clit as another finger slid its way into your tight hole. You were doing so well all things considered. Joker let endless praises fall from his lips in between kissing and sucking on your pussy. You seemed to unknowingly enjoy praise, if the fresh flow of juices from your slit were any indication. Joker twisted his wrist so his two fingers slid in deeper to scissor your hole wider. You were welcoming the foreign invasion but he could feel the restraint still lying dormant within you.

With every pump of his fingers, he made sure to stretch them just a bit deeper and a lot wider to further his goal. After a while, you relaxed around his two fingers and seemed to enjoy the new sensation he introduced to you.

He added a third finger even as you whimpered in protest.

“Shhh, you need thissss.” Joker angled his fingers in a come hither motion to stroke your g spot directly. You jerked in shock and clamped down on his fingers.

“R-Right there, J..ahh yessss..”

Joker grinned when you practically melted to his touch. That ‘itch’ you kept going on about was finally being attended to. This is what you craved all along.

But something was happening. A pressure you never felt before was building and you knew it wasn’t good.

“J-J..ok— ahh! I feel.. weird. I think I’m mmhph!! I don’t wanna..” You cried out.

Joker saw your thighs twitching and grinned. He wondered when you’d get close. “Let it go Bunny. It's okay.”

Joker’s deep voice urged you on, where exactly— you were unsure of, but he was more knowledgeable than you here. Even though your brain protested the feeling, since the rising pressure resembled that of using the bathroom, you let your body's natural instinct take control.

“Listen to your body, Princess. She knows what’s best.”

You nodded at Joker’s vague words and let the feeling build more and more. You felt hot all over and dizzy yet Joker would not stop until you crumbled completely under pressure.

He kept your thighs spread open and grinned like a certified madman as he sped up his fingers, pumping into your hole until it audibly gushed out. Almost there..

Something was happening within your body that you couldn’t comprehend. Your ears were ringing and tears streamed down your face as a white hot coil snapped just underneath your navel.

You felt like passing out, it was so intense yet you moaned as waves of pleasure washed over you.

And Joker drank everything you gave. He watched you die and come back anew right before his eyes and it was such a sight to behold.

You came back shivering and weak but had enough strength to pose the question. “W-what just h-happened?”

Joker left a lasting kiss on your clit before he crawled up your body. It was flush with a sheen of sweat and desire and he showered every inch of it with affection on his travels.

“Did ya enjoy your first orgasm?” He mumbled on your shoulder. “I sure did.”

“O-Orgasm? So… I didn’t pee?”

Gosh you were so cute, he wanted to ruin you so bad. “Mmhm. NoT quite. You came so hard for meeee. And ya taste so good too, see?”

Joker kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, although he laughed when you jerked back in disgust.

“That’s not sweet! More like tangy and salty! Eww.. and you like that?” You said while wiping your mouth clean. You were still convinced you relieved yourself, however the texture was more creamier than liquid that told you otherwise.

“I do. Very. Very. Much.” To prove his point, he licked his fingers clean of you while you watched in intrigue. It got you thinking..

“Umm, w-what do you taste like J?”

Joker died then and there. You asked him so casually, was he corrupting you too fast? Of course not. You blinked owlishly at Joker waiting for a response. All he could do was chuckle under his breath.

“I’ll let ya have a uhh, taste another day Bunny. Right now, f__k, I gotta.. I need to be inside this pussy. Are ya still itchy?”

You blinked twice before nodding your head.

Whatever Joker did just then was amazing but it wasn’t enough to quell the unknown feeling between your legs. You still couldn’t form the right words to explain the sensation though. Maybe you could ask Joker about it later. Right now, your fears were bubbling up to the surface as he towered over you.

“You’ll be gentle right? It won’t hurt?”

Joker sighed before kissing you soundly. He then reached a hand down to check your entrance. You were still wet and you moaned into Joker’s mouth at the soothing circles he left on your sensitive bud. “Mmm it shouldn’t, Bunny.”

Joker stopped rubbing your clit so he could remove his shirt and pants. You watched in awe as his body was revealed to you. Sure you saw glimpses of it here and there but fully bare before you now, Joker was stunning.

How did you get so lucky?

“There’s no need to be shy, Y/n.” Joker cooed at you.

He noticed you were still hesitant and moved your hands to his chest for you. Seeing your hands on him.. it was a step in the right direction. He couldn’t wait to see them wrapped around his cock.

Baby steps though. Today was your first time but if he played his cards right…. Why not go big rather than go home?

With Joker’s permission, you caressed the hard planes of his chest and abs, wondering what the large indentation in his briefs was. The second your hand brushed against it, Joker hissed and grabbed your wrist.

Your eyes flickered up to his deep jade in awe.

“Easy there, bunny.” He shivered. You tilted your head to the side in wonder until Joker let his cock spring out from his underwear. Your face was priceless.

“I take it, it’s ya first time seeing one?”

You subconsciously clenched around nothing and nodded listlessly. Joker snorted and decided to let you explore uncharted territory. You know, get a little bit of hands-on training.

“Go on. Touch iT.” Joker whispered in your ear as he guided your hands around his dick. He stifled his groans as your timid touch groped his shaft. J was soft yet hard at the same time and you paled at the thought of it in you.

If his fingers almost made you faint, what would this do? It felt powerful and ominous in your hands and oddly hot to the touch. Veins ran up the length of it and when you looked closer, a clear bead of liquid was oozing out the top. For some unknown reason you wanted to lick it up but second guessed yourself at the last minute.

“Is this.. going inside m-me? J, I don’t think…”

“Yes it will.” You wondered how Joker knew your exact thought, “I’ll make it fit and you’ll take every.. last.. inch. Under-stand?”

You jerked your head in a nod and it seemed to satisfy Joker since he nodded back. With that out of the way, Joker let you acquaint yourself with his dick until he grew impatient and batted your hands away. Any more stimuli and he would’ve cum prematurely.

He couldn’t finish before the deflowering party got started. But he didn’t calculate the way you were driving him nuts.

“Look at me Y/n.That, uhhh, ache you have right here.” Joker rubbed your womb affectionately before tipping your chin up with his fingers.

You were on your knees before him, patiently waiting for anything he would give.

“Your mind is still unsure but your body… mmmm, your body knows what it wants. Keep listening to your body, mkay? It's gonna be reallllly scary, and I. Won’t. Stop. either, but you have to trust me bunny. Trust that I’m doing this to.. make you feel good. I’m going to ruin your pussy and there’s nothing you can do about iT.”

Your bottom lip trembled in fear but you nodded at Joker. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt you.. Right?

“O-Okay.. I trust you.” Joker's smile was absolutely feral hearing you surrender to him so easily. You’d regret that later.

“That’sss my sweet girl. So! You’re all wet and horny and need to be filled? So achy and needy? I’ll help ya..”

Out of the blue Joker pushed you down on the bed and you yelped at the sudden shift in the air. “J? What’re..”

“ShuT. Up. You deserve someone who will treat ya right. Mmmm, should’ve picked someone else then. Lemme break you Princess, open up for me.”

You didn’t like where this was going but Joker did say to trust him. It was going to be scary but you had to trust him. Didn’t mean you had to like it. You didn’t want him breaking anything of yours!

Before you could turn your head away, Joker already grabbed a hold of it.

“Look at me! I said… spread your legs slut.”

If Joker didn’t see your pussy glistening with cum, he would have dialed things back but surprise surprise, his little virgin liked being dominated. You liked his meaner side even if your brain couldn’t wrap itself around the idea. Joker was over the moon discovering your kinks way before you did.

He watched in glee as you parted your thighs for him. Your pretty folds were glistening like the delicate flower it was. Joker repeatedly slapped his dick on your puffy lips and you jumped in shock with each unexpected smack.

Even if you could squirm away, Joker would just drag you back. With one hand keeping your face towards him, he used the other to prod his cock in your slick juices.

You were so wet, he almost slipped inside with no resistance. He let you coat his dick completely and hissed at the warmth beckoning him in.

“Don’t… look… away. Here we go. Ahhhh s__t, oh shhh shh Y/n, I know. I-I know it hurts and that.. Heh, that’s just the tip..”

You were a panting mess. It felt like you were being split apart and he barely had the tip inside? This wasn’t what you signed up for! “Joker, wait!!”

He muffled your cries with a kiss and bullied his way deeper inside of your tight walls, one agonizing inch at a time. You clawed at his forearm that was holding your face and wept at the sting his cock left behind.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt yet it felt good at the same time. You couldn’t decide which sensation overpowered the other, but right when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Joker bottomed out inside of you— groaning at your walls gripping him tight as you sobbed uncontrollably around him.

“Ahhh! Please, Joker no more!” You begged. Joker settled in within you, laughing.

“Whaddya mean, Bunny? That’s it! Good job for taking me soooo well. You ahhh, took it a-all on the first try. Breathe doll. Ya gotta breathe.”

Joker groaned as you turned a little blue in the face. His cock was already making you go stupid and he had yet to start thrusting.

He wanted to tease you about it but he wasn’t any better as your gummy walls choked the life out of his dick. You felt absolutely sinful wrapped around him. He felt lightheaded from the intense heat your body enveloped him in.

“How does it f-feel to not be a.. mmm.. virgin anymore?”

“F-Full…” You wheezed out.

“Yeah? What if I ahh, take it away?” Joker pulled out, till nothing but the aching tip remained and you cried out, begging him to come back. “I knew it, such a greedy little slut… but today I’ll be generous. Here you go.”

He thrust into you sharply, making you arch your back and disrupt the grip he had on your face. “Ohh you like it rough, doll?”

Joker grabbed your hips instead and set his knees into the bed. Each word was drilled into your pussy with a powerful, breathtaking thrust. “Good. To. Know.”

You couldn’t think straight let alone form words from the assault. All that could escape your lips was Joker’s shortened name and pornagraphic moans.

You were tossing your head side to side and drooling up a storm. Joker thought it was the prettiest thing in the world. You were a natural.

“And you thoughT you wouldn’t be good enough, HA! You’re perfect for meeee.. I should’ve taken you months ago, f__k.” Joker didn’t care if he was talking too much, you were proving to be too much for him to handle.

Between your tight pussy suffocating his cock, to your breast bouncing in his face, Joker didn’t know where to focus his attention.

That is, until you made the decision for him.

You never followed his instructions. He didn’t care how hard it was to focus, he wanted to see the moment your brain shut down and floated away. How could he do that if you closed your eyes?

Joker growled and picked up the pace but not before squeezing your throat. “What.. did I tell you? Don’t. Look. Away.”

He wasn’t expecting you to let out an airy giggle in response. You would be his undoing. Smiling as he choked you? It was like you were made for him.

Joker groaned and lost himself, giving it his all to make you feel good. This was your first time after all. He would stop at nothing to make it perfect.

You weren’t complaining as you struggled to breathe in between the brutal pace Joker set and with his hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

A while ago, the initial pain of his cock entering your hole morphed into mind numbing pleasure. Now you understood the hype behind sex. Why did your parents and other adults growing up censor this from you?

It was indescribable the way Joker made you feel. You were in fact seeing stars with each cant of his hips. Had you known sex could feel this good sooner, you couldn’t even wrap your head around the possibilities your teenage self could have created.

“nny? Bunny? Come back to meeeee. There ya are! Heh, thought I squeezed too tight.”

You blinked back the fog to notice Joker had come to a stop inside of you and was doting on you with a slight look of concern in his eyes. It was gone by the time you cleared your throat.

He let go of it during your brief stint in headspace when he saw your eyes roll back.

There was a fine line between breath play and choking. Joker wasn’t about to go too far, especially since this was your first time.

He wanted this to be memorable, not kill you. So against his wishes he stopped to check on you when you became unresponsive.

You were breathing normally again (albeit your eyes were still glazed over) but he proposed a new idea anyway. “Wanna try a different position?”

You stretched your arms out for Joker to grab onto with a meek nod. He chuckled at your innocence on full display.

His sweet girl was a pillow Princess through and through.

Too bad he wanted to corrupt that and everything else about you. You would be a ravenous minx by the end of his teachings, that much he was certain of.

Joker sighed as he left your warmth and drummed up a good position in his head. There were so many he wanted to try with you but one in particular made him grin deviously.

You caught sight of it and gulped down your fear. “J… please be..”

“Nothing about me is gentle doll. Remember thaT. Now, what’s a sweet little thing like you owning a big mirror like this hmmm?”

Joker scooped you up from the bed and slammed you face first into the floor length mirror you had set up in the room.

He loved seeing your shock reflect through the mirror.

“Do ya use it to touch yourself? Can’t blame ya if you do. I’d watch this body too..” He fondled your hips and squeezed your breasts as you shook your head in denial.

You watched yourself in the mirror being manhandled at a loss for words.

“N-No! It’s not l-like that!” You cried out when Joker yanked your hair back in his strong grip. All you could do was grip the mirror’s frame, lest you lose your balance.

Joker had you standing on your tippy toes with your head tilted all the way back in order to stare up into his eyes.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

You did without hesitation but froze when Joker spat right onto your tongue.

“Ahht ahht, swallow. Now.” He growled. He didn’t care if it was yucky to you, it asserted his dominance over you and he grinned when you teared up but swallowed on command.

He noticed your legs rubbing against each other and knew subconsciously you loved it. That innocent mind of yours was holding you back however.

“It’s always the shy ones.” Joker chuckled under his breath. In an instant he used your hair to guide you back onto his dick. Your breath was stolen right from you by the unexpected invasion.

“Oh bunnyyyy, you got tighter.” He groaned.

He rammed his cock into you at a bruising pace and yanked your hair whenever you tried to look away. Your only option was to lean forward onto the cool mirror and watch as J pounded into you from behind on its surface.

The sight of your nude body being taken in such a way was embarrassing— all flushed and slack jawed but Joker was right behind you, whispering how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to take your v card.

Whatever that meant.

What you did know was that Joker was thrusting into you harder than ever and that wondrous feeling from before was fast approaching again. You were unsure how Joker managed to fit his length inside of you yet there was a noticeable bulge in your stomach that you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.

Joker followed your gaze through the mirror and relocated one of his hands to rub against it during each snap of his hips. And when he pressed down on it? You sang praises to his name.

“You.. really are stuffed.. fuuc—full of me huh, baby doll? G-Gooood, that’s good.” He smiled into your skin and picked up the pace, like he wasn’t already rattling the mirror and artwork against the wall with every rough thrust.

You were swaying on your feet from the pleasure and it grew the moment Joker rubbed erratic circles on your clit.

You couldn’t handle the added stimuli and tried moving his hand away because this time it really felt like you were..

Your undoing completely blindsided you; it was so intense. Your legs shook like a newborn’s and you almost fell if not for Joker catching you at the last minute. He was in high spirits, cooing in your ear.

“D__n, Y/n! Goood girl, C’mon.. breathe for me Bunny.. yeah. That was.. heh somethin’ else wasn’t it? Shhh shhhh easy now..” He ignored the wet mirror dripping with your cum to help you down onto the plush rug at your feet.

You were twitching and pushing Joker away but he fought back and flipped you onto your stomach.

Your legs were still dripping wet from squirting, so your pussy accepted Joker back inside no issue.

That didn’t mean your brain was so welcoming. “J.. too much, I-I can’t!”

He just positioned your hips into a painful looking arch and drilled your pussy like no tomorrow.

“I. Don’t. Care. Bunny. Ahh, you… ohh, youuuu got yo cum twice now, selfish little whore. N-Now it’s my turn and I’m gonna.. use ya.. like the dirty slut we both know ya are!”

He threw his head back as he slammed your hips back to take his dick over and over. The way your skin rippled with each thrust, the echo of wet skin on skin, your pathetic cries floating in the air; Joker loved every detail.

A quick glance to his right gave him the perfect view of your back arching in the mirror and your tear stained face smushed into the rug.

You were taking his cock with a blissed out smile on your face. Joker truly was a lucky man. Your first time and you were already showing signs of being a perfect cock-slut.

What more could he ask for in a partner?

He’d love exposing you to his most kinkiest desires and treating his touch starved Princess to all of the pleasures known to mankind. By the way your weeping pussy was still throwing it back on him and squeezing his dick so tight, physically you were still in the game.

A shame your mind couldn’t keep up.

He laughed at the broken pleas spilling from your lips. Your mind was still a virgin but your body never truly was. This body of yours was begging for his cum.

And he would deliver.

Joker choked on a moan as his release creeped up on him. His hips lost their rhythm and became more primal in the desperate need to cum. Joker reached down and grabbed ahold of your hair to twist your face towards him.

“Now this… ohh shi— this is the ahh, most important part Bunny. Good.. gooood girls get rewarded. T-They get cum deeeeep in their greedy little wombs. You.. you want thaT? You want my cum?” He asked.

You didn’t understand a single word but nodded aways. “Yes J, please!”

Joker was too close to mock your eagerness. He was spouting nonsense himself; his head was so mushy.

“I’m gunna give it to ya. You’ve been such a good little bunny. This’ll make ya feel sooo much better, so full n’ complete. All m-mine.. you’ll take it yeah? Won’t you, Y/n?”

Joker had more to say but two thrusts later, he erupted in your pussy, painting it white with no end in sight.

Joker’s release triggered one last orgasm from you as his hot cum bathed your walls and sent you down a spiral.

You collapsed and Joker’s weight kept you pressed to the floor as he continued to rock his hips into you, unable to stop himself. Both of you struggled to catch a breath but Joker regained his senses first and rolled over onto his side, dragging you with him.

Naturally he was the big spoon and showered you with much needed affection.

You were shivering with aftershocks with a faraway expression on your face. He hummed as he softened inside you and waited until he was coherent enough to check on you.

“Y/n?” He brushed a lock of hair off your shoulder. “You uhhh alright?” Joker turned you around and you clung to him instantly.

He rubbed your back and petted your hair, a complete 180 of the dominant man rearranging your guts just moments prior.

“I wasn’t too rough, no? If ya didn’t li-ke it or.. uhh, we can try again? More gentler—-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

Joker looked down at you in shock. Your beautiful face was wet with tears but your eyes… those sweet e/c shined so brightly at him in adoration.

“It was p-perfect, J. T-Thank you.” You kissed him again and collapsed into his arms when your strength suddenly failed you.

You landed on his chest and left kisses where you could reach. They were weak brushes of your lips, but Joker didn’t mind. At least you were okay.

“Mmm, err don’t thanK me just yet doll. C’mere.” He tipped your head back so the two of you could lock eyes.

“This… was tame compared to what I’ll do to ya next time.”

Your eyes widened. “N-Next time?”

Joker snickered at your innocent wonder and nodded. Somethings just wouldn’t change he guessed.

“Mmhm. There’s so much more to learn Y/n..” He tucked a curl of hair behind your ear. You were so pretty in your afterglow, he couldn’t even focus on what he was saying.

Joker didn’t know how long he was gonna lay low with the authorities but he knew he was staying here with you for a very, very long time. 

[vamps4lofi]

Revered

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️

“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.

He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.

“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”

You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.

You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.

Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.

"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"

"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.

Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.

"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.

His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.

It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.

Because he does.

He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.

As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.

It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.

"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.

Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.

"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.

"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."

"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."

You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.

"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.

"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.

His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.

"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.

It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.

"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.

He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.

"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.

This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.

[vamps4lofi]

He always thought you were prettiest like this. Tears threatened to force themselves out of your eyes as he groaned, pushing himself deeper into your throat. Your thighs -already painted white- shook as you desperately rubbed circles into your own clit. He looked down on you as he reached his orgasm. He wanted this picture of you on your knees to be burned into his memory.

[vamps4lofi]

Kirishima doesn’t get jealous, not really. He's the type of guy who gets super happy and proud when his partner gets attention from other people because of course! You’re the most attractive person in the world! It only makes sense that you would draw people in as often as you do. He knows that he really won when you fell in love with him too. 

As long as people are respectful in how they treat you, he’s totally fine. You always tell him when it happens because you want to be super transparent, and you’ve also told him you can not tell him if it’d make him feel some type of way. He tells you, “Whatever you wanna do, babe! I really don’t mind and I trust you.” And it always makes you want to chomp on him because his security in himself and in your relationship??? SO attractive. 

People aren’t always so respectful, though, and Kirishima hates that. He knows you can handle yourself, but he hates the idea of you feeling unsafe or being disrespected. He wishes people would just! Appreciate you and admire you!! Nicely!!!

One time when you’re out at a dance club celebrating Mina's birthday, a guy comes up to where you’re standing near the bar, waiting for your table’s drinks. He tells you that you’re hot and asks if you wanna dance. You politely refuse and go to turn back around to face the bar. He grabs your arm and insists. You try to tug away without making a scene, but he continues to move in on your personal space. 

You’re about to punch the guy, not making a scene be damned, when Kirishima comes up from behind the guy and taps him on the shoulder. 

“They don’t want to dance with you. Move along, dude.” 

The guy tells Kirishima to mind his business. Kirishima's smile disappears and his eyes turn steely. He grabs the guy’s wrist, gripping it hard enough that the guy lets you go. This makes the guy pay attention, and once he takes in the expression on Kirishima's face, how big he is, he takes a step back. Kirishima shoulders in and uses his physicality to muscle the guy away. 

Once the guy’s gone, he turns to you, all soft and concerned because you’re looking at him a little funny. “You okay? Did he hurt you? Sorry I didn’t notice sooner.” He bends his head to peer at your bicep, where the guy had gripped you, and you shake your head, burying your face in his chest. 

You tug at his shirt a little, motioning him to bend down so you can tell him something in his ear, over the loud music. You're a little shy about it, but you're honest. 

“Eiji, you’re so hot when you’re intimidating. Literally no thoughts right now ‘cept you.”

This makes him go bright red, and the only way you can tell in the dim lighting is because your faces are so close together, and it only makes you want him more. It doesn’t help that he keeps running his hand up and down your back, a comforting, mindless motion to him but one that makes you want his hands all over you. 

Kirishima suddenly squeezes you to him until you squeak, then lets go. In your ear, he whines, “You can’t say stuff like that, babe! We just got here.”

You laugh, and he nudges you back in the direction of your party’s table. 

“I'll get our drinks, don’t worry. I wanna talk to the bartender so he can tell the bouncers to keep an eye on that guy. Go dance with our friends!”

You’re all heart eyes as you make your way back to the table, really just hopelessly in love.

[vamps4lofi]

suggestive content, mdni. warnings: not discussing kinks before hand.

we always talk about bakugo learning how he can be gentle with you, and how hard that is for him because his hands have caused so much destruction- on people, in places- and if he accidentally hurt you it would kill him. but what about teaching him that’s it’s ok to be a little rough as well?

bakugo holds you in very high regard- he has standards that are out the roof and you exceed them all. he treasures you immensely, because he knows that his temper is still rough, and that he’s too quick to pop off when things get heated, and he still isn’t the best communicator, but you understand him. you understand that he’s trying- and he is! therapy has reduced from twice a week to a couple times a month, so that shows his progress in itself. you tell him all the time that you love him for him, hot headed as he is. one day he came home from a mission gone wrong-he couldn’t save as many as he knew he could have, if he had just done more- and when you took one of his large scared hands in your own and kissed his palm, lips coming back slightly shiny from the nitroglycerin still coating them, that was the first time you ever saw him cry.

so bakugo treats you gently. he’s finally understanding that his hands can be used for good. his hands cook you your favorite food, they caress your back soothingly whenever you both cuddle, they pat a child’s head when they excitedly run up to him when he’s on patrol. they make you giggle, and moan when he crooks his fingers just right. they grip your own hands tightly when you’re both close.

when you guide his hand to your throat the first time he freaks out. almost falls off the bed in haste to get away from you, because the image of him holding you like some villain he had just caught is one he can’t stand. you realize then that this is something you both need to talk about. he looks so vulnerable sitting there, naked and wide eyed, staring at you with so much raw emotion. afraid he’s hurt you even though you were the one who initiated it.

it takes time, and communication, but eventually you don’t have to guide his hand to your neck anymore, he does it himself and finds that it fits perfectly. he doesn’t shy away from digging his fingers into your hips, or biting your shoulder. doesn’t feel bad for liking it whenever you like it so much as well. he pulled your head back by your hair one night and you let out a moan so loud and clenched so tightly around him he had to stop because he almost came undone.

exploring the waters with you isn’t scary, because just as you trust bakugo to always keep you safe, he trusts you the same way.

[vamps4lofi]

was trynna sleep but

izuku (lovingly) fucking your brains out at his place, not giving a damn if the entire block heard you. in fact, he’s encouraging it with sweet honey dripping praises. “that’s it, angel. you sound so cute, so pretty for me, hm?”

but the thing is…

that god damn All Might poster staring back at you.

[vamps4lofi]

He treated your body like a science. Hot air filled the room. Your back arched, begging his fingers to dip deeper into your body. You felt a shudder dance up your spine when he curved his fingers ever so slightly. Just the way you liked it. He read you like a book. With the flick of his tongue on your clit, you came undone. Melted like honey in his hands.