The way I was squealing and kicking my legs rubbing my thighs together. Youāre better than me, Iād be on my knees the second he came into the bedroom. No shame. So beautifully written, itās insane. You ate and left no crumbs, love. šš«¶
"creature of myth."
pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader
summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, itās too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right?
content: MDNI (18+Ā 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 āsinfulā, very minor religious themes, fated āmatesā, 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 āSAY IT, SAY ITā. 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 motherās jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. Youād never seen the man, and you still hadnāt. Heād asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things heād be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. Youād 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. Youād only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the manās 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.Ā
Youād asked for proof nonetheless, and youād 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 didnāt 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 eyesā¦ āhauntingā said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to returnā¦ changedā if they returned at all.Ā
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 wonderingā¦ 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 youād never get it.Ā
Your wedding wasnāt 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 andā¦ that was that. You were married.Ā
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 youāve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.Ā
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you canāt bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldnāt even show his face for your wedding.Ā
The carriage ride is somehow longer than youād thought it would be- apparently, the castleās 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 youāve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.Ā
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. Itāsā¦ terrifying.Ā
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.Ā
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castleās 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 itās not from the cold.Ā
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 familyās annual income.Ā
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you donāt 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?Ā
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than youāve 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 youāve ever dreamed of.Ā
āPull this if you need any sort of assistance, maāam.āĀ
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume itās one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servantsā quarters. You try to hide your amazement- youāve never seen one in real life before.Ā
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. āThank you, um-ā you pause, your brow furrowing. āIām sorry, I donāt think I asked your name.āĀ
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like heād never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. āThomas, maāam.ā
You smile and itās genuine. āThank you, Thomas.āHe bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. āOh, um, Thomas-ā He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.Ā
āYes, my lady?āĀ
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign andā¦ wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. āDo you know, um, well-ā You shift, trying to word your question properly. āDo you know when I might see the Lord?āĀ
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. āNo, my lady.ā
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.Ā
Youāre 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 toā¦ consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When heās over you?Ā
You sigh. Thereās 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- itās going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and donāt fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. Youāre tired. You didnāt sleep much last night, anxious for the morningā¦ and itās only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself itās a bad idea and then youāre swept away into a world of warm darkness.Ā
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that itās 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 youāve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you donāt remember it. Perhaps thatās a blessing.Ā
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 didnāt 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. Theyāre worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, theyāre all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.Ā
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 youāll be sore for many days to come.Ā
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. Youāve 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 familyā¦ then youād pay it gladly.Ā
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 perpetuallyā¦ black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when youāve finished it doesnāt feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.Ā
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that itās still warm, you conclude that it canāt 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.Ā
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.Ā
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 utterlyā¦ amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effortā¦ Your hand brushes purple silk and-Ā
āDo you like them?āĀ
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 skinā¦ you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. Heās your husbandā¦ and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing youāve ever seen.Ā
He laughs, then, and itās a warmer sound than youād thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.Ā
āSorry. Didnāt mean to scare you,ā he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps thatās a lie.Ā
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. Itās shut. You didnāt hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didnāt hear footsteps, didnāt hear breaths, didnāt hear him.Ā
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bitā¦ strained?Ā
āI have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.āĀ
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. āYou must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.āĀ
Thereās a beat, and then footstepsā 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.Ā
āSatoru, please,ā he winks and you think you might stop breathing. āI am your husband after all.āĀ
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks likeā¦ that? Thereās something too unreal about him, too perfect. Itās almostā¦ unsettling.Ā
āOf courseā¦ Satoru.āĀ
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.Ā
āSo, do you like them?ā Your brows furrow- āThe dresses,ā he clarifies.Ā
āO-oh.ā Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You donāt think youāve ever touched something soā¦ finely made. āI like them very much. I donāt know how to thank you.āĀ
Thereās a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. Heās mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes foreverā¦Ā
āNo need to thank me. If they donāt fit, weāll call for the seamstress in the morning.āĀ
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. Thereās a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing butā¦ 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?
āDid youā¦ get dinner?ā Itās a stupid question, you know, but you donāt think you can bear another second of that look heās giving you. āI fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didnāt prevent a proper mealā¦ā You trail off. Perhaps you shouldnāt have pointed out your own shortcoming?Ā
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. āYou did no such thing. Iāmā¦ perfectly satisfied.āĀ
You nod, glad that he doesnāt seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. Youāve never had a husband before. Wasnāt he supposed to just sort ofā¦ put you on the bed andā¦ do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.Ā
āWell, Iāll see you in the morning then, hm?ā His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. āWear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.ā He chuckles like heās just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That wasā¦ not the topic youād been expecting. āYouāre notā¦ā You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. āNot staying the night?āĀ
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You donāt think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesnāt stop until youāre nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. Itās cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.Ā
āNot tonight.āĀ
His head dips and for a moment you think heās going to kiss you, but then heās 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.Ā
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then heās gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.Ā
āGoodnight,ā is all he says, and then heās gone.Ā
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.Ā
~Ā Ā
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, youād 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 directā you would have remembered sending your measurementsā you didnāt. So had he justā¦ guessed?Ā
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.Ā
When you join Satoru for breakfast itās in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit moreā¦ liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever heās drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps heās just not a breakfast person.Ā
āIt fits!ā he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.Ā
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. āYes, perfectly.ā
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals itās 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.Ā
āI hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?āĀ
You glance up, but Satoruās eyes arenāt on you, theyāre on your footman. His smile is bright, but itās anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.Ā
You glance at Thomas. Heās perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. āY-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.ā When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, ā-and very respectful.āĀ
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. āPerfect.āĀ
Thereās a beat and then heās standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. āWell, I have some work to do. Iāll see you for dinner?ā Heās grinning again, like itās 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. āSee you then, princess.ā And then heās 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. Itās like he fears coming too close. Heās 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 planā¦ and no Satoru. You donāt 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 donāt see so much as a ripple in the curtains.Ā
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When itās finally time to get dressed a ladyās maid whose name you donāt even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough sheās 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 youāve yet to step foot in.Ā
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the placeā filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think youāve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoruās already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.Ā
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. āHow was your day?ā you ask as he takes his seat again.Ā
He chuckles. āPerfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?ā Your nose crinkles. Thatās the second time heās called you that. Something about it feels wrong. Youāre still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.Ā
āIt wasā¦ good.ā
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. āOh? Just good?ā You donāt miss the way his eyes flicker to the cornerā to Thomas.Ā
You hurry to elaborate. āWell, I justā I canāt help but feel as if thereās not muchā¦ use for me.ā Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.Ā
That brow arches impossibly higher. āUse?ā His lips crack into that smile again, but itās tight this time. Too tight. āYou have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.āĀ
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell canāt quell the sudden dread in your gut. āOf course! Of course he did.ā Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. āIāll justā¦ Iāll try riding tomorrow.ā You hate riding, but itās the first thing that comes to mind.Ā
Satoruās smile thaws into something less menacing. āIām sure youāll enjoy that.āĀ
You nod eagerly. āIām sure I will.āĀ
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though itās 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.
Itās not until several bites later that you realize youāre the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. Heās onlyā¦ watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.Ā
āYouāre notā¦ eating?ā
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you canāt help but feel as if thereās somethingā¦ menacing about it. āAte before I came.āĀ
Your brows furrow. āOh. Were you on the road?āĀ
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. āNo.āĀ
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesnāt eat a bite, doesnāt even look enticed. You wonder how thatās possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.Ā
By the time youāve cleared your plate youāve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. Itās comforting to know a little more about your new home, but itās not enough.Ā
āIs there a library?ā you ask. Youāre on dessert now. Itās the best chocolate cake youāve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.Ā
āOf course.ā Your husbandās eyes flicker to Thomas again and youāre honestly starting to fear for the poor footmanās life. Everytime you ask a question itās like Satoru is angry it hasnāt already been answered. āItās yours to use as you please.āĀ
You smile lightly. āPerfect. Thank you.āĀ
He softens a bit at that. āIs there anything specific you wanted to read about?āĀ
You shrug. āThe estate, I suppose. I should know my homeās history, no?ā
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. āOh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. Iāll leave them aside for you?āĀ
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. āThat would be perfect. Thank you.āĀ
He chuckles. āMy pleasure.āĀ
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoruās not far behind you, saying heāll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?Ā
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, youāre thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, butā¦ off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?Ā
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. āWill you stay with me tonight?āĀ
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.Ā
āNot tonight,ā he whispersā and then heās gone.Ā
~
You wake suddenly. Itās the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.Ā
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.Ā
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, youād rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. Itās 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.Ā
The books Satoru left you areā¦ perfect. Just what you were looking for. Theyāre all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. Youāre stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo familyās 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 informationā but thereās one book that doesnāt fit with the rest. Itās relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads āCreatures of Myth and Where To Find Themā. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the sideā 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 servantsā coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you canāt figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?Ā
You decide itās 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 crownās ego. The estimates of your husbandās net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. Itāsā¦ unsettling to say the least. Itās 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.Ā
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but youāve 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. Youāve nothing better to do, right?Ā
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. āCreatures of Myth and Where to Find Themā. You donāt recognize the authorās 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.Ā
Itās 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 youāve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblinsā 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. āVampires [Vampyr]ā.Ā
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.Ā
āContrary 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.āĀ
You purse your lips. What aā¦ terrifying thought. You skim a little further.Ā
āA vampireās 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 vampireās 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 teethā.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.Ā
āVampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.āĀ
Your stomach drops. You donāt want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.Ā
āVampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a humanās 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 vampireās 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.ā
You skip ahead again.
āVampires 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 mateās 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.ā
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperateā 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 āWhere to Find Themā subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?Ā
āVampires 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.āĀ
No, no, no. This canāt be happening to you. It canāt be real. Youāre dreaming, youāre having one of those nightmares again. Youāre going to wake up any second.Ā
āOne tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.āĀ
Youāre panting, hyperventilating. This isnāt happening.Ā
āSoldiers 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 familyās 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.āĀ
No, no, no.Ā
ā(See next page for only existing portrait)ā
Your fingers tremble but you canāt stop them. Thereās no way. Itās not possible.Ā
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.Ā
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but youāre 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.Ā
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. Youāre suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.Ā
āHello,ā he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.Ā
You force a breath into your lungs. āHello,ā you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.Ā
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. āAre you alright? You seem a littleā¦ flushed.ā The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.Ā
āIām fine,ā you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. āIs it time for dinner? Whereās Thomas?āĀ
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. āThomas hasā¦ left us.āĀ
No. This wasnāt happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.Ā
āHeā¦ what?ā Thereās an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoruās face to fall further.Ā
āItās no matter. Heās gone. Now itās just you and me, hm?ā He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. āIn fact, I was thinking Iād cut down on the number of servants we have entirelyā¦āĀ
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didnāt have. āVampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mateās safety is usually disposed of quickly.ā
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?
āWhat have you been up to today, princess?ā The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husbandās eyes flicker behind you.Ā
You wet your lips. āJust some reading.ā You plead that he doesnāt ask anything further. He does.Ā
āAbout the estate?ā he asks.Ā
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. āYes.ā
His smile returns and this time itās not forced. āYou got my books, then?āĀ
You try smiling back, but youāre fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. āYes.ā
āAnything interesting?ā he presses.
This isnāt happening. This canāt be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? āYes, of course. Lots.āĀ
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think itās the first time youāve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. āI think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.ā
You donāt even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until heās shutting your door behind him. He doesnāt stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and youāre falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
āWho knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short timeā¦ You must be simply spilling with information.āĀ
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Youāre trapped.
His hands find your hips and youāre all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
āSatoru-ā your voice is pitiful, breathless, and youāre ashamed to say itās not just from the fear in your gut. Heās never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. āThomas-āĀ
āDonāt speak his name.ā His face pulls into the first scowl youāve 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. Itās wrong. āHeās gone. Heāll never bother you again.ā Heās closer now, his breath skating over your skin. Itās cool and now you know the reason why.Ā
You shake and tremble and you knowā Thomas is dead. Your husband killed himā killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.Ā
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. āThought I could put up with it, just so youād have someone to take care of youā¦ā He groans. āI was so wrong, princess. Couldnāt stand it. Couldnāt stand the way you smelled more like him than meā¦āĀ
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. āBut heās gone. And now itās just you and me, hm? Just you and meā¦ā He hums, like remembering that fact is all heās ever needed.
Heās 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. Heās a killer, of thousands no doubt. Youāve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. Youāre not even the same species. Heās something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.Ā
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut saysā¦ but you donāt. You canāt. Itās tooā¦ good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what youāre sure is his tongue prodding at your pulseā¦ itās intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?Ā
āHave you figured it out yet, love?ā Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. āI can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?āĀ
He knows you know. But heās going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. āYouāreā¦ā Your breaths come faster. You canāt. Not aloud. Aloud makes it tooā¦ real.Ā
āYessss?ā he prods. Heās licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.Ā
āYouāre notā¦ā Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.Ā
āGo on, princess.ā You think heās just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.Ā
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. āNot human,ā 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. āThatās good,ā he purrs. āBut I think you can be a little more specific, no?ā His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jawā¦ āTell me.āĀ
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You donāt want to say it, donāt want to speak it into existence, but you also donāt dare to disobey him.Ā
āYouāre aā¦ā You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
āMhm?āĀ
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. āVampire.āĀ
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. āThatās right, princess. So smart.āĀ
He smiles and you suddenly realize youāve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you itās close-lipped and dimpled. But thisā¦ this is the smile of a predatorā all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.Ā
āShhhhh,ā he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. āI wonāt hurt you, love.ā You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. āNot unless you want me to.ā He wiggles a brow like itās just a little joke, like heās not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.Ā
āSatoru,ā you beg. Youāre not sure what youāre begging for. Release maybe? But, no, thatās not right. You donāt want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. āWhy did you pick me?āĀ
The question slips out. You hadnāt even been thinking about it, hadnāt 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 inā¦ thoughtfulness. āDo you think about that a lot, princess?āĀ
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.Ā
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. āWellā¦ā he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. āAt first I wanted you for this.ā His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. āYou smellā¦ā he chuckles. āLike heaven. Which is a place Iāll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?ā He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. āWent 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.ā Heās still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. āWent crazy, princess. Didnāt think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.ā He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. āBut then I saw youāā he groans and something clenches deep at your center. āAnd I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.ā Heās rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. āWent to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldnāt stay away. Knew I had to have you.ā You feel him smile against your skin. āAfter a week I couldnāt take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.ā He groans again. āThen I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearinā you talk to me, look at me.ā Teeth graze your pulse. āNeeded you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookinā at those dresses.ā You whine when his hips roll into you again. āOh, but I knew I couldnāt. Youāre so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, āfraid 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.ā He panting, like heās so pent up he can hardly sit still. āDo you trust me, princess?āĀ
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You canāt. āYes,ā you breathe.Ā
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. āGood girl.āĀ
Youāre on your back. It happens so fast your eyes donāt even have time to gasp. You donāt 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. āSo good, princess. Letās get you out of this dress, yeah?āĀ
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 canāt 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.Ā
āI always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,ā 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.Ā
āSatoru,ā you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.Ā
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. āYou wanna see me too?ā You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. āAlright.āĀ
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like heās been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.Ā
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. Youāve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. Heās art, you think- nothing less.Ā
āTouch me, princess,ā he says. You canāt. You shouldnāt. Heās too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. āNeed a little help?ā he asks, and thereās a lilt in his voice that makes you sure heās grinning.Ā
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 oneā¦ 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 heās laughing again and heās 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.Ā
āNot so fast,ā he says, like he wasnāt 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 youāll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell heāsĀ
thinking the same thing. āYou touch me, now I touch you, yeah?ā Thereās a tug and a tear and then so muchā¦ cold. Youāve never realized how cold this castle is, not until youāre exposed to its elements fully. Youāre naked.Ā
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. Itās too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-Ā
āNo.ā Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. āLet me see you,ā he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.Ā
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. Thereās 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 youāreāĀ
āBeautiful,ā he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. āBeautiful,ā he says again, and then heās 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. Youāre not sure itās entirely from his temperature.Ā
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if heās sucking your soul out through your lips. āTell me youāve never done this before,ā he begs. āTell me Iām the first to touch you.āĀ
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what heās already giving you. āY-Youāre the first,ā you whisper.Ā
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. āYes,ā he breathes, and you shiver again. āLie back, princess.ā Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear youāre not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. āDonāt worry. Iāll be gentle.āĀ
You pray he means that. āJust relax, love. Here, hold my hand.ā 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 heās committing you to memory, itās nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.Ā
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.Ā
āTell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?ā 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 itās the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. Itās shameful, itās dirty, itās- āDonāt think Iāll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.āĀ
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. āY-yes,ā you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.Ā
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. āOn the outside or the inside?āĀ
Your eyes widen. I-inside? Youād never considered thatā¦ āJ-just the outside,ā you answer.Ā
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. āWell, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?āĀ
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he meansā 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. āSomebodyās sensitive,ā he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. āTry to stay still. I promise itāll feel good.ā
You nod hopelessly, but this time youāre prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasnāt your own. But then itās more. Itās languid, slow circles around a spot that youāve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. Itās heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. Itās relaxation that youāve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.Ā
Thereās a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. āGood girl. Feels nice, yeah?ā 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. āItās about to feel even nicer.āĀ
By the time you realize what heās doing itās far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but heās 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. āStop that, princess.ā Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. āRock into me like this.ā His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. āGood girl,ā he says and your heart rises right back up. āKeep doing that, now.ā You donāt 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. āThatās it, love,ā he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. āHere, put your hand in my hair.ā He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. Theyāre even softer than youād imagined. āGood girl,ā he whispers and suddenly heās taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. āāM gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.ā Your chin wobbles. āIt might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?ā You canāt do anything but nod.Ā
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. āRelaaaaaax, love,ā he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouthāĀ
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 intrusionā but itās already too late. Thereās a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then heāsā laughing?Ā
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoruās hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated inā blood, you realize. Your blood. And heās a fucking vampire.Ā
āOh princess,ā he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. āYou really are perfect.āĀ
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. Youāre sure youāve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like heās ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.Ā
When he pulls his finger from his mouth itās completely licked clean. You hold your breath. Heās going to go for your neck now, right? Heās had a taste and now heāll want more of it, all of it?
āFuck,ā is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you donāt even see him move.Ā
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 doesnāt 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. Heās lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like youāre a fucking gold mine. Heās 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.Ā
Youāre not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You donāt 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 doesnāt 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.Ā
āYes. Yes. Give it to me.āĀ
āS-Satoruāā 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 youāve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and thenā 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 donāt 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.Ā
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 beforeā¦ well, there was no doubt any longer.Ā
Thereās a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and youāre suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, youāre not done.Ā
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 heās holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isnāt working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.Ā
āS-Satoruāā
āItās alright, love.ā His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. āJust stay still.āĀ
You whimper, but you donāt think heās paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.Ā
Youāve 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 couldnāt help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurtā¦
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. āGonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.ā His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. āStay still, now.ā
Itās all the warning he gives you. You feel like youāre splittingā straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.Ā
āSatoru, p-please! ItāsāāĀ
Lips catch yoursā 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. Itās 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 itās no use. By the time heās 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 youāve only just begun.
āGood girl,ā he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. āTook me so well.ā 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 heās quick to comfort. āJust hold my hand, princess.ā His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. Youāre panting as he chuckles. āBreathe, love. Breathe. Soon youāll be begging for more,ā he laughs. Itās not long before heās rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first itās all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then itāsā¦ more. Itās heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. Itās sensation andā¦ 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.Ā
āFeel good, princess?ā You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels goodā it feels right. He chuckles, but thereās nothing light about the sound. āWanna feel even better?ā 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.Ā
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. āJust a taste, love. I promise it wonā hurt.ā His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. āYouāll feel sā good anā Iāll only take a little.ā He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. āPromise.ā He sounds breathless, like heās 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. āCome on, love. Say yes. Say yes fā me.ā Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. Heās desperate now, seeking a release that you donāt think is any kind youāre familiar with. āYes, yes, yes,ā he chants in your ear. Youāre 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.Ā
āYes,ā you whisper.Ā
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savageā but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades toā¦ ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. Youād thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesnāt. 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 donāt 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.Ā
Heās 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.Ā
āSatoruā¦ā You hadnāt noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder whyā¦ āāM gonnaā¦āĀ
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.Ā
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. Itās an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.Ā
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. Heās moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.Ā
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. Thereās a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You canāt 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.Ā
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You donāt think youāll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.Ā
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. āNo, princess.ā He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. āI took more than I should haveā¦ā His expression doesnāt tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. āBut what can I say? You just taste so good.ā 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. āYou taste like mine.ā
You whine. More, more, more. Itās 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.Ā
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.Ā
āNot yet, princess.ā he coos. āBut soon.ā His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until youāre trembling again. āForever,ā he whispers.
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