#scratches my mind the right way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojorgeous · 5 months

Text

"creature of myth."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my lady?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course… Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was… good.”

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

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

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

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

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

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

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

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

“You’re not… eating?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You skip ahead again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

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

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About the estate?” he asks.

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

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

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

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

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

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

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

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

“S-Satoru–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

27K notes · View notes

coconutdays · 7 months

Text

going crazy

s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous

w.c. 4.8k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!

your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?

you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so.

although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too.

but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.

there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you.

your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night,

so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.

it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup.

you

hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/

suguru

sure princess. can i get a peek?

you

don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3

suguru

tease

any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time .

and you were right.

when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in.

you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.

he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily.

“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him.

his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”

“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.

his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”

“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice

“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”

“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it

suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”

“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly

“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”

it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.

the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.

“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”

“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck

the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it.

it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”

within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.

“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.

suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing.

you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey.

and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club.

you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him.

and other people think the same, he notes.

he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.

“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little

it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.

“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”

“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.

fuck, you're beautiful.

speaking of before,

he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.

it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her.

the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.

the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table.

he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.

“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.

“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.

“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”

“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you

when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”

“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting

and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.

he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.

he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.

and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming.

all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.

“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.

and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”

when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him.

“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips

the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”

all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out.

he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.

a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.

you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness

“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards

“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions

“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”

“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”

he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger.

“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in

your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.

suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”

the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.

he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”

he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.

“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now

and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”

“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.

he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”

and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.

you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.

“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine

“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action

suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”

“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you

“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly

“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”

his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.

he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”

as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.

you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.

“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.

the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming.

you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.

and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.

“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up

a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you

“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”

the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.

“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”

all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.

“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in

It didn’t get him to stop at all.

“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.

tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good.

you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you.

you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.

it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.

“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.

that, and he started to speak up filthily.

“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”

scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”

“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”

“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words.

“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”

the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.

“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.”

his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.

so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts.

“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations

suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier.

the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.

the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.

both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel.

his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”

his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”

suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."

#geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #geto smut

11K notes · View notes