xya

Xie Lian was always like this — passionate, ardent, almost capricious, full of innocence and kaleidoscope, and it seemed to you that there was a lot in him: charm, emotions, ambitions, words, strength, hopes, intentions, beliefs — there was a lot of everything and stormy, like a fast-flowing river or the blooming of the whole forest glade. It was as if he could not and could not help being passionate, absorbing and loud; loud not with sounds, but with emotions, especially when he looked at you with pure burning eyes, like the scorching summer sun, from which you could not hide under any shadow.

Xie Lian was not insane, even if everyone recognized his extravagance — but he was a beloved, happy and passionate, and even if you saw his naivety and ignorance in matters of everyday life, how could you blame this individual of royal blood, which is destined to fly like a butterfly, from flower to flower, untouched no "base", "earthly" problems?

In the end, his potential for ascension only convinced you of this thought — unlike you, if Xie Lian does not make any mistakes, then he will spend his whole life without knowing sorrows and disappointments, like the most luxurious songbird.

And when he calls you again, asking you to be with him....

... He's so cute that you sometimes want to cry.

Xie Lian does not deserve misfortunes and troubles, even if sometimes his slight royal arrogance, ardor and impulsiveness cause a headache, especially when you walk behind him, closing the formation, but he always turns around at you, smiling playfully, always glad that you are here, as if he believes that you can go somewhere. You believe that it is only the 'springtime' and the crown prince wants only the best, worrying and asking about you, gently taking your hands in his jade-soft, and eyes shining like precious stones, gently saying that you can always turn to him, and you dare not answer anything but consent and a gentle bow, because even then he won't let go of your hands.

It is obvious to everyone that Xie Lian, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Xianle, adores you, and this does not bring you anything good, especially when stories about the "eccentric, but adoring prince and his faithful, cold lover" are spreading more and more often among the people every year, but Xie Lian only dismisses them, assuring you that there's nothing to worry about — 'ordinary people need fairy tales, and these stories sound decent', although you are sure that he understands what 'prince' and 'lover' they are talking about — and you can't go against him, seeing that he is adamant in things in which you don't want to see inflexibility.

Xie Lian was never 'persistently strong-willed' — he sought to bring good, and there was a core in him, but, unlike you, his leading others behind him never carried such a strong aspiration. He was closer to the 'follower' and following in the footsteps, believing that you would lead him to where he needed to be, obeying your decisions and words, — and you also always found it natural until the eyes of others were riveted to you and you were not obliged to obey the official understanding of your positions.

But when it was principled things, like the stories that went around among the people, or your thin ribbon tied around his ankle, he was adamant, and the softness became a diamond that it was useless to try to break or scratch. Even if his obedience to you and willingness to follow you were from childhood, you also more than knew about his stubbornness and firmness, which will not disappear even if you break him.

And no matter what, no matter what the words of others, no matter what rumors are going on, no matter what views, you obeyed him — and his capricious, desperate desire that you never go anywhere, no matter what.

... After all, you were and will be his companion, no matter if it's the His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Xianle, Martial God, army leader, 'demon', teacher, 'traitor' or a wandering immortal living in garbage. Your place is nearby.

And so it will always be.

“Never leave me. We will always be together. Always... Say it. Please.”

The child in your arms is small, like a tiny fox cub that has fallen out of a hole, and when he lands in your hands, you can feel as if you are holding something even more fragile than porcelain and more delicate than jade, even if he looked like an ordinary street child with an awkwardly bandaged right eye.

His Royal Highness brings the procession to an end, despite the excess, while you hold the child in your arms, waiting for him to be released, feeling how the tiny creature lies silently, not even twitching, like a frozen herbivore in the arms of a predator, and you want to calm him down somehow, but you know what will do it Xie Lian, who will definitely be interested in learning about this child and why he was in such a situation and why you were so lucky to be around, especially considering that it was you who asked to change your position to be at the wall.

You have nothing to answer to such accusations, however.

It's just... 'instincts'.

You can't find an answer to his accusations or his questions, no matter how hard you try. It was as if you just knew it was going to happen and acted on that knowledge, even if you couldn't find any logical or rational explanation. After all, you saved the festival in some sense, so it's not that your actions are a problem, right?

(Xie Lian looks incredulously, flashing eyes like the radiance of a thousand lightning bolts, but can't find any words that could prove that you are deceiving him or hiding something.)

The child looks like a 'mongrel', which are often found if you move closer to the south, but for some reason you can't help but feel emotion and regret, looking at his childishly round, but dirty face. However, you cannot go against the words of Xie Lian, who found out everything that was needed — just like about his request to hand over the dirty, fragile lump to Feng Xin while you go with him, since the most interesting thing is yet to come, as if you are not his bodyguard or helper, but some kind of companion (as if the current rumors about the closeness between you and the Crown Prince are not enough).

(However, you can't help but secretly give this child your little accessory, which should not attract a lot of attention to him, but will also give him some money so that he can afford food and water for a long time with a small consumption.)

(You don't know why the fact that the Crown Prince has all the earrings in place gives you a strange feeling, especially when Xie Lian looks at you with a strange bewilderment mixed with hope.)

(And the fact that he gives you one earring in the evening as a sign of 'friendship' while wearing the second one does not help too much.)

(Of course you're not so silly to wear it properly.)

... You don't know what you feel when you see this small, dirty child again and again — or when you gently comb his hair, washing, as if trying to express everything that you feel but can't show, feeling how you are moving away from His Royal Highness, although it should be the opposite.

Perhaps you are simply not... cut out for your job — especially when you braid the child's hair the same way you did it for Xie Lian once.

Undoubtedly, you are still as loyal to Xie Lian as your Crown Prince and childhood friend, but perhaps, perhaps, you have already... outgrown these sympathies — especially after you have remained on earth, preferring to move according to the circle of reincarnation, if you cannot reach Heaven on your own without being his 'helper'.

You deserve to be something more.

Hong'er, sweet precious child, convinces you for a moment that it is dangerous for you to be with him, but you do not hesitate to brush it off — after your childhood with Xie Lian, you are sure that nothing can kill you anymore. You yourself doubt how you managed to survive.

Hong'er looks on with a mixture of interest and amazement while you comb his hair, feeling the experience of the 'wrong time' receding. As if you really do not belong to this era or the world.

Using a child as an anchor is wrong, but it's the only way you know.

You also know that Mu Qing would definitely judge you silently, looking at you with his face of a chaste, irritated maiden, as if you are not just doing your own thing, but harassing him simply by the fact that you can't stop, — you don't know what exactly to 'stop' — and that Feng Xing doesn't approve too much of your, it makes no sense to take a principled position, even if he tries to understand, but you don't mind.

Spending time with Hong'er, who is shy from such attention but does not mind at all, it's like talking to a little kitten or a fox cub — and he does not mind this unexpected closeness, especially while the kingdom is beginning to change, and not at all for the better.

You are still living in a bubble, finally feeling comfortable and safe, spending everything you can on a cute child who still naively believes that he can ruin your life, but still clings to you, looking with a huge eye. When you first remove the bondage from him, exposing a blood-red eye, more like the same bloody wounds that you received while you were training to be worthy, you can't help but tell him that he is the most worthy and beautiful, even if you are sure that your words are not enough — people are like dogs, and that you praise a wild puppy for the thing for which he was constantly scolded, will not do any good.

For the first time in your life, you are glad that you are wrong when he cries in your arms, trembling like an autumn leaf, and spring moisture fills his eyes.

Your good boy. Your most beautiful boy.

If you could, you would stay in this 'reality forever, ignoring everything that happens...

... Of course, you can't stay away.

Of course you can't stop him when Hong'er follows, joining the army, and you know that if it wasn't for your duty and your devotion, you would have stayed with your Hong'er, who will forever remain for you a tiny fox cub that fell into your hands, as if marking your new life, bursting into your life like storm and letting you know that everything will change. In the end, as soon as it seemed to you that you had a family, they take it away from you again — and when it's not your blood dripping from your sword yet, you don't understand what you feel inside.

What will happen when the war ends? What happens if your army loses? What will happen to Xie Lian if he brings not victory, but defeat?

You have never liked comparisons with a faithful dog, but you know that you will follow him to heaven and hell, no matter what. For you, he will always be your Xian, full of innocence and naivety, who wants to do what he considers right and bring happiness and well-being, 'so that no one leaves offended', and now, looking at how you win or lose, you do not feel anything, although you would have felt pride or annoyance before.

You may have outgrown that, too.

Perhaps you have outgrown too much.

... You follow your duty even when your heart demands that you find Hong'er — but you know that it is useless and hopeless, you don't even know if he is alive after that incident and where he is now, and your helplessness poisons you when you see what the person you promised to protect at the cost of your life.

Perhaps Hong'er was wrong — perhaps you were the one whose destiny it was to destroy your loved ones, not him.

In the end, the King and Queen feel no better, and although you don't understand whether you are angry or feel despair, at the same time realizing that Xie Lian would have gone down anyway, he couldn't help but do it, even if it would lead to his fall, but at the same time feeling angry that everything had to to happen exactly when you finally found a person whom you could call a 'family', with whom you were not because of duty, but because of the desire of your heart, who found an equally lonely and abandoned child, to whom you were ready to give yourself just to keep warm.

And when you see how the one whom you considered your infallible idol and perfection, despite all his actions, sinks to the very bottom, looking for a way to continue to exist even when your kingdom, your home is no more, and instead you live in a completely different world, seeing how people throw off statues of Your God, refusing from faith, — you gently hold his hand, remembering for a moment that Hong'er's palm was colder and smaller, but just as fragile.

And there's nothing you can do.

Nothing.

Even when the spiral of madness pulls him even more, while the young man hiding behind the mask for some reason seems too familiar to you, impermissibly familiar (Hong'er?), but you can't pay attention to it, even if the thought that he is now dead, never returning home, not returning to your little pretty home, squeezes your heart even harder, as if threatening to break it.

You have lost everyone you can, and when Your God is looking for something in your eyes, you don't know whether he finds it or not.

You have followed your duty, and you will follow him to the end until your life ends, no matter whether your heart, your mind or something else dictates it to you. Xie Lian has always been the most precious thing in your life, and the fact that your attempt to start living with someone other than him was only shattered only confirms this.

Perhaps you were never destined to be with anyone but him — perhaps you were destined not to be with anyone at all when your Crown Prince squeezes you in his arms, looking for something that can be his anchor, and you try to be him for him, to be his support and pillar, until then until your heart stops and you disappear from the circle of reincarnation.

No matter where, you will follow him — save the way back if he realizes that he has gone the wrong way, and follow him into the thick of it if he says that this is the right way.

The darkest place is under the lantern, but sometimes 'being a lantern', hiding it and protecting it from the world that was not ready for it, becomes your task. And the fact that you have to protect this 'lantern' to keep it in undisturbed safety is your duty. After all, Hong'er, your sweet sweet Hong'er, will definitely meet in the future, in his next reincarnations. Definitely.

You will not call yourself a zealous fatalist, but you know that such meetings are not accidental — you just need to wait.

Wait and think. About many things. And about your precious.

... Your Hong'er's hands are small, narrow and a little rough, but when you took them in your palms in the past, they seemed the most gentle and affectionate, even if he looked up like a little fox cub or a puppy that you managed to tame by giving only 'home' and 'affection'.

Xie Lian's hands are warm, smooth and soft, but when he caresses your face or hair, you cannot restrain a gentle loving smile.

To realize that after all the forks, all the choices, all the paths, all the decisions, you are here — repairing your cozy house, you can't even believe how much you've been through.

And you know that everything is just beginning.

For the three of you.

𔓘 Despite the fact that you have known one since childhood, while you have partially raised the other (even if you never managed to become a 'real family'), you still learn from each other various little things and behavioral patterns, as if looking for something in the dark while standing in the light. They are not radically different, but they are not at all similar — even if they have much more similar qualities than differences inside, especially when it comes to the attitude towards you, the fanaticism and obsessiveness of which they do not 'divide', but multiply.

There is more mutual understanding between HUA CHENG and XIE LIAN, — an unpleasant thing, of course, as if they have a multi-year history with each other, and not 'they communicate less than the fifth time in their lives, but for some reason they understand each other on the fly, especially when it comes to you', — but you are not sure on what it is built, taking into account that they both have an extremely anxious type of attachment that requires you to look and want only them, which makes their clinginess even stronger and sharper, surrounding you from all sides.

Perhaps this is for the best — given your "fatal attraction" quality, it would be problematic to attract someone else, but when you can't dismiss any of them, since he will receive the support of the second, then you begin to doubt how closed a relationship was a good choice, even if you see that two of them more than comfortable, despite the need to share your attention and affection. Perhaps this is because they are surprisingly compatible by themselves, despite the moments when their needs and views simply do not converge on some things in which each of them does not want to give in, — and you do not know whether it is 'stubbornness' or some kind of internal growing problem that in the end she has shown itself in this way, — which is why you are forced to intervene and be a peacemaker if you do not want the relationship to become complicated. XIE LIAN can be unnaturally stubborn, HUA CHENG can be hot-tempered in flashes, and their general acute sensitivity, when a vulnerable spot is touched, leads to rare and quickly disappearing conflicts, which, however, still leave tension and the ground for a new conflict.

This is especially true of the dynamics of the relationship with you and the search for satisfying passion, the absence of which leads to the problem of jealousy, which neither of them raises explicitly, and therefore you can easily skip it until it's too late. And you don't know which is worse — when they are jealous of each other (which is very rare) or when they are both jealous of you for others (much more often) and unite to return you to the 'home nest', considering the possibility of your exit as unnecessary. And despite your usual dominance in a relationship with comfortable subordination of both, when they unite, not just 'cooperate', there is little you can do — whoever you are, fighting with the strongest Martial God and one of the Four Great Calamities is a lost cause in which it is easier to just agree.

In a relationship with them in general, you get a huge amount of experience in the form of 'it's easier to just agree', because this is actually the easiest way to deal with them when there are too many of them, and their obsessive tendencies from 'cute and soft' becomes 'sharper and darker'.

𔓘 They are very affectionate and sticky — to an unhealthy degree, where it seems that if they leave you for more than a few seconds, they will immediately die without taking a couple of steps. With HUA CHENG'S absolute, unconditional loyalty, which cannot even be questioned unless you want to attract very extreme consequences when he will feel that you are questioning his love and devotion, since from the very beginning he feels 'unworthy' of you, and XIE LIAN'S obsessive addiction, which over the years has become even closer and stronger to rely on looking at you as the center of his life, entrusting the need to make decisions and point to you, you find yourself in turbulence between balancing between their desire to constantly be around and your personal freedom, even if your own traumatic experience has made you much less independent and prone to finding time 'for yourself', — you had more than enough of it, — but the usual desire to sometimes think about life and what happened has not disappeared.

XIE LIAN likes to just lie next to you, sometimes falling asleep slightly, enjoying your warmth and hugs, and in general has a more modestly tenacious and shy nature at the same time, where it is enough for him to just cling and snuggle up to you to be happy, although you know that whenever you look down, you will see the brilliance of his adoring the eye, although it did not even show signs of any movement.

HUA CHENG is different — you will never feel that he is 'not there'; even if you are lying peacefully, he almost always tends to move and fidget, constantly pressing you closer to him, unless you tell him that you want to lie down quietly. But when his hands tremble slightly while you hug him or let him hug you, it seems even nice to you with how touching he tries to be respectful — especially when he tries to captivate you with what he is good at, like creating your sculptures or creating paintings with you, as if trying to immerse you in the atmosphere absolute acceptance and unconditional adoration, giving it all to you and only to you. Everything he has is for you and only for you, and you cannot help but feel this exclusive and absolute fixation, in which there is no possibility to move away or refuse, since there is no space where you could move away.

But even in those moments when HUA CHENG straightens the sleeves of his clothes, constantly tries to look attractive and shyly takes a step back or forward, trying to adjust to your pace and not rush or delay, at the same time wanting to devour you and stay within the 'bounds of decency', concluding an unspoken pact that he will follow you everywhere, as long as you allow him to follow, but also allow him to penetrate into every corner of your life, as if trying to close you into the bubble of himself and always know what is with you to protect and protect, supporting at any stage — and immediately returning to the role of a flirtatious but modest admirer.

XIE LIAN is much less modest — and you yourself do not know what this is due to, given that XIE LIAN is much more quiet and calm, but his courtship is more manifested in service, and has a more almost shamelessly physical character, like strong hugs from the back, lying down together, working together, eating together, creating for you, the ideal physical environment is through the preparation of a bath or treats, bringing (usually together with HUA CHENG) gifts — as if in an attempt to make up for all the time that you were apart, XIE LIAN becomes your free supplement, even if you can't say that you're 'uncomfortable' because you don't feel uncomfortable.

There's just something about it that makes you want to carry it with you and say that if someone offends your little crown prince, you'll break that person's arm.

It's not that it's 'not mutual' — although XIE LIAN is less prone to open confrontation and aggression, preferring to solve everything in a peaceful way, his parental instinct and a very clear manifestation of hyperprotective nature, which became even more noticeable after the kind that HUA CHENG can calmly show it and you don't mind, lead to that in moments of aggression or the need to defend, he can be even more savage and ferocious than HUA CHENG, and the fact that he is the strongest of your three does not brighten up the situation too much.

You're fine anyway — although HUA CHENG'S mania for watching you to make sure you're okay goes too well with XIE LIAN'S hyperprotectiveness about you, while XIE LIAN'S silent clinginess resonates with HUA CHENG'S love-starved soul, from which their tendencies are only further strengthened and fueled by each other. to a friend, leading to the fact that they strive for even greater isolation and the creation of an "ideal home" where you will only be with them and no one else will distribute, when you are close to feeling almost discomfort from too aggressive and melting adoration — they immediately move away before you have to show that you want to stop, as if their very needs are tuned to you to perfectly match.

And although HUA CHENG is definitely the most passionate and shy, while XIE LIAN is the softest and wildest, you prefer to just call them your 'beloved husbands',

not that you have at least a chance to escape from them, however.

(Ruoye and E-ming madly adore you too, and when you realize that, you need to sit down and think about what you've done with your life.)

(It's like you've got two more, but this time smaller and more manageable puppies. Although Ruoye regularly tries to wrap itself around you, while E-ming vibrates enthusiastically at any of your manifestations, at some point you even begin to like it.)

♡ heavy petting, hypersexuality, discipline, rough sex, crying + drooling, dommale elements, free use, consensual noncon/dubcon, group sex / threesome, light bondage (xl, hc, reader), body worship (xl, hc, reader), praise kink (xl, hc, reader), loss of virginity (xl, hc), hyperstimulation (xl, hc), breeding (xl, hc), light degradation (xl, hc), lingerie (xl), orgasm denial (hc), nipple play (hc), oral sex (reader), using Ruoye as a sex toy with consent

𔓘 XIE LIAN is on the more 'shameless' side regarding his sexual desires than HUA CHENG, and moves much faster from foreplay to sex, needing emotional and intellectual stimulation rather to try to seize the initiative and in your expression of desire to immediately intercept and react — and when XIE LIAN saddles your hips for the first time with a ruddy face, hastily taking off your robe, you can't believe to the last that he is serious, constantly waiting for him to stop — but as he remains more and more bare, letting the fabric slip off his broad shoulders, you realize that no, he is absolutely serious, and more than calm, even if you can easily feel a slight tremor when you put hands on the soft thighs, warming, encouraging him not to stop, although you yourself no less excited, looking at his slender waist, strong legs and arms, easily able to even playfully press you to the bed or floor to such an extent that you will not be able to move.

It's not that your shock is not justified; after all, his path involves chastity and the absence of any sexual relations, but to think that this will somehow stop him from what he wants — you — is very naive and even a little silly. You've known since childhood that XIE LIAN was very strong-willed and persistent when he wanted to, but the last thing you thought about was that his persistence would be relative to 'I WILL fuck my spouse no matter what the cost!!!', because if your past self found out that you had caused His Royal Highness' cultivation to deteriorate, you would definitely strangle yourself.

After all, why did you suffer for so many years, following him and living in the temple — just to fuck him and these many years of work because he is a 'very hot thing' and does not mind at all that you let him ride you, drool while you drive into his sensitive body, experiencing such intense sensations for the first time, from which he cum already at the moment when you drive in, and in the end can only bury his nose in the pillow, whining while you praise him for what a good boy he is, you move your hips so good, Your Highness, while your fingers firmly hold smooth long hair, part of which sticks to his wet hot back?

XIE LIAN does not like — quite strongly — when people remember that he is a royal person, especially when you do it, since the very thought that you are with him only because of 'duty' drives him crazy in a bad way, but he does not mind at all if you do it when 'Your Highness kneels in front of with this servant', when you stroke his hair and face, gently explaining, looking into his darkened pleading eyes and at his beautiful face, wet with tears and heat, telling that this is his new duty to you — after all, he is so gorgeous, so charming, so perfect, that this is not a problem at all, right?

... And even knowing that the desire for your absolute power over his body, to the same extent as your power over his heart and mind, is his desire, you can't help but allow yourself a few almost humiliating, laudatory words about how he looks, being in such a pitiful and submissive state, having completely lost all royal dignity. You also deserve a reward for your faithful service, don't you? And the minimum he can give you is to give you all of himself, even if your desire is his body — "Your Highness, let me undress you", which quickly turns into almost-compulsion, especially at the sight of his red and confused expression, if not for the sweet trembling in his flexible you and a feverish gleam in his eyes when the 'faithful servant and childhood friend' forcibly takes his Crown Prince, who is unable to resist and fight back.

"In the end, Your Highness behaves like a lustful needy young man from an entertainment house" — when your palm shuts his mouth, not hiding a laugh when you feel him trembling, more than obviously not intending to resist, withstanding only the necessary minimum in the form of attempts to leave soft weak thighs squeezed, but easy to lift up and throw on your shoulders.

His short nails scratch you to bloody scratches; XIE LIAN squirms under you, mixing pleas for continuation and for 'mercy on him' while he watches you drive into his wet weak body, taking advantage of your advantage over him — or when you let him ride you, watching from the bottom up as he moves his wet hips with squelching sounds and moans, breathing heavily, with a bright ruddy shame and excitement on his tender cheeks, but not slowing down the rhythm, while whispers how good it feels, putting your palm on his stomach, letting you feel how much he is filled, stopping only to let you see how petite and tight his body is, as if XIE LIAN is not a Martial God, but really nothing more than a depraved young man from the spring house — only your young man, who can serve only you, as if his body itself has become addicted from this and from you.

... If XIE LIAN could, he would spend time only with you in an embrace, connecting as closely as anyone could ever with him or with you.

𔓘 HUA CHENG is more shy and needs a lot of foreplay, even if his attraction is more stable, even 'permanent' — but if you want the initiative from him, then you will have to wait until he warms up and stops walking around, hitting the bush instead of directly talking to you. HUA CHENG is much less confident in his right to your attention and love, especially the right to receive your love in such an intimate way, and willingly follows any of your desires and words, but for a long time he warms up to the idea of his own desires and the opportunity to express them, preferring to serve you, feeling much more comfortable when he worships you on his knees, dissolving, and getting only what you want to give him than daring to ask for anything.

After all, his place is next to you, even if you have always been in his access zone — but you have never been someone he could really touch, even when you lived almost as a 'family' during his childhood.

You have always been the sun, which HUA CHENG does not dare to even look at without squinting, let alone touch you without permission, and even when he became the Ghost King, having the opportunity to throw everything he has at your feet, he still did not dare to look at anything except from the bottom up — and do not hesitate to get down on his knees for this, worshipping you as a Deity even if you are not, always remaining the only one in whom he believed and asked for a blessing when he went through the most difficult periods of life, hoping that in the future he will be able to be there not just as someone who needs to be protected, but as the one who can protect you and be useful so that you never have to be left with a broken heart because of him again.

When he was dying, he had only one regret.

And now, kissing your skin, letting your hands get tangled in his hair, ideal for combing and braiding your favorite pigtails, HUA CHENG looks out from under his covered eyelashes with barely restrained servility, finding his meaning only to stay where you need and be the one you can always lean on and have who will you seek protection from.

It doesn't matter how long and painfully he will have to go and fight, if in the end he earns a place next to you, even if for this he will have to use claws and fangs, tearing out his victory and right with blood, — just like when HUA CHENG tries to lie motionless under you, breathing heavily, feeling his head spinning at the same time with delight, feeling euphoria from thoughts of unreality and excitement, trembling slightly while the body feels completely jelly, obeying any of your movement and desire, letting you easily wrap his legs around your hips, gently asking is he comfortable just to hear a soft meow as consent; breathing deeply while you hold his hand, gradually letting his body get used to you, even if it is not such a necessity for someone like him — but you can't help but be affectionate, kissing his face and whispering so that he doesn't rush things, even if he breathlessly whispers your name as a prayer while you gradually fill him with yourself — the last part of his body that is not yet full by you.

When you gently rub his chest, giving him pleasure, assuring that you feel good when he looks so defenseless and vulnerable, even if such a position is unusual and almost uncomfortable, — but you speak and he obeys without question, no matter what exactly you say and what your desire will be, even if HUA CHENG almost cries from stimulation while his eyelashes tremble and sharp strong teeth bite his own palm; feeling painfully pleasant waves while you rub his sensitive nipples with undying interest, from touching which his toes curl, — but he's still silent, letting you just see how the tears shine in his eye, threatening to slip from the corner down his face, leaving a shiny transparent path, but the thought that you made him feel this way at the same time excites you and him, not daring to bother you even when his body becomes so responsive to an obsessive caress, as if you are trying to make him become so sensitive that every movement will cause him to stifle a groan.

You don't try, however; you do — and the fact that HUA CHENG gives himself completely into your hands, letting himself lie submissively under you, accepting everything you want to give, everything you want to fill, makes his body tremble from a mixture of excitement and anxiety, from which he can only strive to give you more and also, taking everything you have with the same insatiable greed. Even if he is usually nothing more than a 'cozy nest' in which you can find what you want, he is also prone to outbursts — when you accept him for what he is, especially when you let his more aggressive side find a way out, fixing on you, almost digging sharp teeth into your flesh, growling when your nails dig into his skin, helping to move, even if he does more than well, purring hoarsely with a mixture of cooing and irritation while you take him closer to you, not letting him slip out anywhere but your strong embrace.

Isn't this happiness?

And even when he's breathing heavily, drooling, feeling like his mouth is full of you and saliva, but just not daring fight somehow, knowing that this is your desire and aspiration, even if his head is completely empty by the new round, — such a good boy while you use him again and again, enjoying completely destroyed appearance, as if you were almost able to fill an immense black hole before it managed to absorb and want more. Your hand looks perfect on his neck — but even without it, he suffocates when you push inside again and again, not letting him hide his face from you, demanding that he look into your eyes while writhing under you, trying to move away from the painfully pleasant touches to an overly sensitive body, — but it's easy for you to bend him to he couldn't move anywhere at all. HUA CHENG does not resist — never, even if his arms are wrapped around your neck while he meows and mumbles something pathetically, hiding face in your shoulder or trying to cover with hands with shame.

Because no matter what, he will accept everything.

𔓘 You can't tell if you have sex together 'often' or not — it just happens when you are together, especially considering that they get along well with each other and don't see anything 'special' in joining forces, even if it's not exactly what you expected from them, lazily lying before see the interested burning eyes, clearly already tacitly agreed on something with each other and now watching your reaction to their more than straightforward hints. Talking about whether you are better off with such a combination or worse is problematic, because although they are both exhausting, needy and demanding, when they are together, they are much freer and brighter to take the initiative, repeating after the other, mutually pushing each other and themselves forward — but this is exactly where part of the 'exhaustion' lies, especially if there have been outbursts of jealousy and anxiety about your loyalty and devotion before, which makes them completely focus on you, demanding more and more, and their mutual support turns into an obsessive desire from 'satisfy you as best as possible' to 'mark you as much as possible brighter' so that no one dares to claim you.

If XIE LIAN decided to surprise with some 'beautiful lingerie', hearing the advice that it brings a spark in bed — even if you see him blushing and looking away, — then you can expect HUA CHENG to support the initiative, although he is more likely to take a female form (especially if you have a thing for certain female behaviors and appearance) and will abuse it to let you know how much smaller and lower he is than you, shamelessly flirting and emphasizing it. XIE LIAN can take a female form if he sees that HUA CHENG was successful in this and your reaction was positive, even if it is unusual and very exciting for him to look like this in front of you, letting you touch his body in this guise — and while HUA CHENG coos in a sultry voice, saddling your hips, XIE LIAN shyly hides your face in a lush soft breasts, almost trembling with blush, much less confident (but no less excited) than HUA CHENG.

And yes, they both melt when you tell them how great they are — and if HUA CHENG is always sensitive to praise, although he especially reacts to him in his 'real' appearance, especially when you and XIE LIAN accidentally "catch" him at the moment of sex and start talking about how good he looks or how sensitive he is and gorgeous, such a cutie, completely leaving him dumbfounded and red in an attempt to cover up only to have XIE LIAN catch his hands and not allow it, being much stronger and indulging you even when it comes to driving his 'ally' crazy. It's not that HUA CHENG easily turned a blind eye to it afterwards, but XIE LIAN has always been easy to make blush from any proximity, so you prefer to think that HUA CHENG does not intentionally put him in situations where XIE LIAN does not know whether he should snuggle or hide, remaining frozen in place while HUA CHENG watches with pleasure how XIE LIAN twitches in hands like a butterfly in a spider's web.

Perhaps, with the same pleasure, you are only watching when Ruoye (who does not need much persuasion to agree to any of your adventures, especially if you rub it and call it a 'good little thing') wraps around XIE LIAN'S hands when he least expects it, giving you full access to his body, whining when you ask Ruoye to also wrap around his legs and raise them — or when Ruoye tightly wraps around HUA CHENG'S mouth, not letting him make a sound until you let, whining weakly even when your hand rubs his cock or clit red from excessive stimulation again and again, encouraging the two of them to 'calm down' and 'stop lashing out at you', arranging an almost-punishment, giving them not only a sense of 'what an obedient pretty thing Ruoye is', but also keeping them next to each other as an example of what you will do to the other if he does not obey. When HUA CHENG whines from rubbing and caressing for too long, trembling, unable to even move or beg, while you pump him up again and again, purring that he deserves it, being such a restless and naughty boy, while XIE LIAN drools, not hiding tears, whining when you leave sticky slippery traces of another orgasm on his hot inner thigh, — it will definitely help His Highness get rid of excess energy, — and use it as a lube for HUA CHENG.

After all, you don't have many ways to stand up to the two of them at the same time, and even if you can somehow be stronger than HUA CHENG, but being stronger than XIE LIAN is impossible and practically was not possible even when he was human — but when it comes to cunning, then you are quite good at that in order to at least control your husbands in this way, who easily become completely uncontrollable and wild, like a flower garden that will instantly overgrow with weeds if you do not pay attention every day.

(However, Ruoye does not mind at all and wrapping his arms around you, rather even gladly using any opportunity to be close, clearly preferring to touch your thighs more, changing the compression force and reluctantly getting away while red XIE LIAN tries to force him to let you go (with almost the same blush with which HUA CHENG irritably looks at E-ming who vibrates at the sight of you), but also readily agrees with the ideas to wrap around your body when XIE LIAN or HUA CHENG suggest it, restraining them, giving them the initiative, even if Ruoye shamelessly reacts to your command to untie you and easily indulges, which, among other things, leads to situations when you knock them down while they are not expecting it and seize control. No, Ruoye is not ashamed.)

your boyfriend was a man of few words, a silent figure in the room that often scares those around him. yet that never stopped you from pursuing him, and it paid off in leaps and bounds.

you grabbed his wrist covering his mouth, harshly tugging it above his sweaty face making him yelp, "there's no way i'm letting you hide your pretty voice." the poor man looked like he was about to pass out, his brain too melted and fucked out to try and save his pride, to save the embarrassing noises from leaking out of those pretty lips of his, to save some of his dignity. in his eyes it was humiliating moaning like a whore in heat, in your eyes it was a reward that you worked so hard to get.

"don't resist it love, let it all out.." you kissed his sweaty bare chest, knuckles fisting the sheets while you buried yourself into his messy, slick hole. it was like an addiction, the need to hear his slutty moans, his tired whines, his pretty noises made you push through the fatigue, the soreness of your hips. it was almost like each time he squealed when you plunged into him gave you energy, each time he cried out for you gave you motivation, an endless cycle until his voice gave out.

"i-i can-i can't..!" his voice quivered, his feverish hands finding your chest, hands weakly trying to push you away. "t-too much.. too much..!" crocodile tears filled his eyes, the pleasure and pain too much for him to comprehend. "you can take it.." your smooth voice pissed him off, even though it was thinly veiled overstimulation. it wasn't fair how you managed to have so much stamina, so much energy to keep going.

"you've always been able to take it.. now keep singing my name love.." you grinned at him once more, grabbing his hands and pinning them down, holding him down to fuck him. if you buck your hips hard, you could see how his stomach distended lightly, the shape of your cock bulging his belly. "hey love, can you feel that?" you did it once more, your boyfriend throwing his head back, a long drawn out moan leaving his swollen lips. "can you feel my cock bulge your belly? can you feel me fuck you open?" you kissed his face, peppering kisses onto his tear stained face, licking them away. his body was like putty, and even when you pulled your arms away from his wrists, he didn't have any energy to change positions or try to hide his moans.

"don't tire out on me now love, not when i'm doing all this work for you." a sweaty grin was on your face, his voice flowing freely from his lips. you stuffed your face into the corner of his neck, snuggling closer to him to inhale his scent and hear the vibrations of his sound, before going over to his adams apple and grazing it with your teeth, enjoying how you could feel the vibrations on your teeth from his moans.

the edges of his vision were blurry, and his throat was so sore and dry from being so used, not used to so much activity. his brain could only think of you, how big you were, how you smelt, and he was utterly a mess. he could feel yet another orgasm coming, hands weakly trying to scramble your hands away from his weeping cock. "you can handle it, right love? my little songbird.." you coo'd out, stroking his pretty cock, watching him weakly tremble and shake, his voice freeflowing. you yourself were getting dangerously close to orgasm, chasing that high inside of him when suddenly his moans got louder, weaker and more erratic.

your hips burned and your toes curled as you felt yourself cum inside of him, hands iron gripped onto his sides as you spilled your cum once more into your used hole, listening to your boyfriends noises. how he squealed when he came, how his cum splattered weakly on his stomach, how he groaned when he felt you cum again inside of him.

"such a pretty voice my love.. my love?" you paused, seeing him dead asleep on the bed, passed out from your relentless pounding, evidence of sex all over him. maybe you coaxed him a bit too hard, but you'd do it again.

APHELIOS, AONE, BARBATOS, XIAO, GETO + ur favourites

"darling, could you hand me the sugar?"

"lilia, I hope you know that you're supposed to use salt for the sauce not sugar." <- *passes the right bottle*

ignoring lilia's attempts on lives he acts pretty normal.

ahem, besides the fact that your first kiss on him has made him come to the conclusion that he can now incorporate kisses in your daily routine since you've already done it, so apparently that means he can too.

kiss him once, he kisses you thrice I guess. it's either the occasional jumpscare from the ceiling since he felt like reminding you of his love through a pack or the times you blink and feel a sensation against your lips without seeing anything cause his affection can be silent as it is loud you suppose.

pov student you were speaking to who definitely saw that but you didn't midst your blink: 😨—

"lilia are we dating."

"i suppose it would make us more official like you humans like, so of course~"

he just accepts it without any complaints, just announce you're spouses and he'll accept that too probably.

#chill

silver

if we have spiderman kisses surely we can have the sleeping beauty kiss?

sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses

I reckon he would be a pretty light sleeper though the quantity of his sleep is more often than not so even though he accidentally passes out a lot he's really easy to wake. trained to be vigilant and all, courtesy of his murderous father (well, murderous through food?)

he knows the weight of certain things. a blanket draped over him, the feeling of something squirming on his shoulder—a squirrel, most likely. something on his head, a bird or some other critter. but this?

a light press on his lips, gone as quickly as it came. that, he isn't sure of. the animals don't tend to linger around his face so the unknown origin of it has curiosity opening his eyes.

and boy, he is trying to find every reason to not believe that you didn't peck him.

perhaps they touched it? he furrows his brows lightly, attempting hard at trying to avoid your gaze because he feels guilty at his first assumption, you're his best friend! you wouldn't do such a thing..

"did you touch my lips?"

"nah, is it fine that I kissed you?"

"..."

"..."

*passes out*

is he dreaming?

sebek

in what scenario will sebek even let you near him? hmmm.. I suppose being 'best friends' (he calls you self proclaimed, and that you guys aren't that close but still rages over someone and hits them with an essay why you're so much better than their insults) makes you more tolerable around to be closer.

totally not the fact that he might have a crush on you, which can't be right cause he can't be capable of having feelings for a *gasp* human!

scandalous. he knows.

raises a brow when you do anything but be discrete with your intentions of shuffling closer but he doesn't really double back, okay. he's getting a little concerned now when you continue getting closer, he takes a step back not because you're near or anything but this behavior is... just strange.

you're in his face already and before he can question (loudly) what in the seven's name you're doing before you just casually peck him on the lips?

WHAT IN TARNATION!

stiffens up immediately, his face looks like it's holding in a yell. maybe that's why it's getting so red? he's just standing there with shoulders so tense he looks like he's trying to seem big.

"..." WHAT JUST HAPPENED. DID THIS HUMAN JUST.. NO, WE ARE MERELY BEST FRIENDS—are we even friends.. NO! THIS IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ACT TO COMMIT. THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO KNOW BOUNDARIES. I mean he enjoyed that and all—I mean what..

"why are you so quiet."

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… confused, and left with no other option but to approach (a proud, hysterically laughing) Lilia, begging for an explanation as to why he feels so weak in your presence. Pouting as he awkwardly opens up to the old bat about how when he’s with you, his heart races and he stumbles over his words, even though he’s used to being so sure of himself. He trained diligently to be calm and collected as a future King should be, so why is it that a magicless human is able to bring him to his knees seemingly without even trying? How come none of his previous favorite activities feel as good as daydreaming about you or spending time with you?

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… now feeling more assured after his conversation with Lilia. Coming to terms with the fact that even someone like him can feel love, and it happened sooner than he ever anticipated. Still nervous and unsure of his feelings, but no longer afraid. He feels grateful that he could be gifted with such potent and beautiful emotions for the first time in his life, and he’s especially happy that he fell in love with someone as amazing as you. Now that he’s in love, he wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… mind in a constant state of disarray after being swept up in your hurricane. Battling against himself ceaselessly to stay focused on the task at hand as his thoughts desperately crawl their way back to you in spite of his better judgment. No matter what he’s doing, he can’t help but fantasize about what it would be like if you were there with him. As his pen taps against the paper on his table, his breathing quickens, unable to stop himself from wondering what it would be like to look over at you studying right alongside him, instantly enchanting the monotonous task with your bright presence. If he’s in a store, he always spends extra time looking around for objects you might like, smiling to himself as he imagines your reaction. If he’s in a conversation, he thinks about how you might interject, and how the conversation would be better thanks to your input. When he’s happy, he wants you to be the first one to know, hoping he could share in his excitement alongside you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… coming to terms with the highs and lows of loving someone who doesn’t know you love them. Pacing around his room, celebrating and replaying all the moments he made you smile. Hyping himself up whenever you ask him to spend time alone. He also chastises himself whenever you two share an awkward moment, or if he makes a joke that doesn’t land, letting the moment haunt him. Wishing he had done things differently, reassessing the situation and himself so that he could grow into someone worthy of you. The most dreadful moments are times he sees you having fun without him, getting dragged along by your other friends. Jealousy and despair rage through his veins as he works to convince himself not to feel angry toward you, reassuring himself that you don’t know any better – it was an honest mistake. You simply don’t realize how much it means to him to be in your presence, because he’s too afraid to let you know. He’s too afraid to gamble your love, only wanting to confess when he’s sure you have the highest chance of accepting him. He’s not willing to go back to a life without the love he feels for you. Tears well up in his eyes as he retires early to his bed, desperately wishing you would hold him in your arms and take the pain away. Longing to hear that you love him, too – that he doesn’t have to feel this way anymore. Closing his eyes and letting the tears fall like silent prayers, hoping with every fiber of his being that you won’t curse him to a lifetime without your precious affection. 

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… randomly showing up at Ramshackle dorm. He’ll use any excuse in the book to show up unexpectedly, at the very least, hoping to see your face, but also betting on the fact that you’ll invite him in. He’ll ask to borrow items a fae wouldn’t need. He’ll steal things from your backpack just so he can return them. He hopes he can catch you alone, so that maybe he can get closer to you, or at least learn something new. There are also times where doesn’t want to bother you, but feels too weak-willed to deny his overwhelming desire to bask in your presence. He stands outside, taking solace in being close to you, even if you don’t realize it. Letting a comfortable sense of calm come over him as he stands outside under the moonlight, feeling the breeze through his hair, content to know that you’re upstairs sleeping peacefully in your room. Taking care to protect your building just like a gargoyle would. He’s convinced himself that Diasomnia is simply too far away from where you are, and what if something happened to his beloved child of man and he wasn’t there to protect you? Such a thing would torment him as long as he lived. So, he stands guard outside your room, just in case you need anything. He can at least do that much. He feels honored to be your protector, even though you’re completely unaware.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… sitting beside you on a bench outside. His whole being overcome with butterflies, heart pounding out of his chest, feeling lightheaded as your hand slaps his thigh – your head thrown back in laughter from what he just said. He’s completely captivated as your melodic laugh reverberates through his soul. Unable to stop glancing at the way your thigh presses against his, feeling the electricity as your shoulders brush. Trying to memorize the way you look and sound in this very moment. He feels the air leave his lungs as your eyes meet his. Feeling like time has stopped as he stares into your eyes, trying to commit their beauty to memory. He feels his cheeks flush as he quickly turns away, not wanting you to see how flustered he is. You grab his shoulder, laughing, pulling him back toward you as you ask him to tell another story. He grins, trying to remember what it was like to breathe normally, and he obliges your request. A moment has never felt so magical, and he swears he'll remember the feeling until his last breath.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… spending hours in the library after class reading romance novels as a form of research for how he can make the best possible impression on you. He originally read these books out of necessity, desperately trying to avoid going to Lilia for more intimate advice. However, he finds far more enjoyment in the books than he anticipated, getting giddy over the words on the page as he imagines the story unfolding with the two of you as the protagonists. His eyes widen and his body temperature flushes hot when the tale takes an explicit turn, finding it harder and harder to keep his composure as he reads further. Feeling his throat go dry at the thought of doing such things with you, he tries to calm himself down, fanning his face with the book. He imagines the way your lips would taste and the softness of your skin, how you might sound moaning his name, how it would feel to be inside of you. He can hardly stand the tension as he reaches down and palms his lonely cock through his pants, letting a desperate moan escape from his lips as he struggles to hold himself back. He quickly looks around to make sure no one is there, then returns his attention to the book. He almost feels guilty for imagining his innocent beloved in such a naughty way. He wants nothing more than to be respectful to you, so it seems wrong to undress you and pleasure you in his mind, yet his needy, aching cock convinces him otherwise. He closes his eyes and continues to massage himself through his clothes as he lets the scene unfold in his mind. He imagines how you would look beneath him, panting and writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into you. He wonders if you would like it if he were to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer as you ride him, or if you would prefer if he were to pin your arms above your head while he fucked you into the mattress. His breathing quickens as his fantasy intensifies, feeling his body tighten up as he nears his climax. The pleasure is so intense, he feels unable to stop himself from going over the edge despite the uncomfortable circumstances. He lets out a quiet groan as his hips involuntarily thrust into his hand, feeling himself release into his pants. As he comes back to reality, his face burns red in embarrassment at the fact that he just did that in the library, but also with the realization that he wants to do all of that and more with you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… sitting down with Sebek’s parents to interview them about their human/fae relationship. He wants to feel completely prepared and educated about all the pros and cons. He desperately wants to have the best chance of winning your affection. He asks them what it was like when they first met, how they handled the differences in their species, and how they confessed their love. He wants to know everything. He listens intently to every word, taking detailed notes and asking questions when he doesn’t understand. He asks about the most challenging parts of their relationship, and how they overcame them. He asks how they knew their love was true, and how they know it still is. He wants to feel as confident as possible that he can make this relationship work, because he knows it will be his last. If he loses you, he would never be able to love another, so he needs to take all the steps possible to ensure a life by your side. He desperately wishes his own parents could have been alive to walk him through it, but in their absence, he is grateful to have the first couple of their kind as a support network. He thanks them profusely, even going as far as to hug them and offer gifts, insisting on returning their time and effort tenfold for the advice and kindness they gave him. Sebek's doting mother cries a little, telling him that he has grown into a fine young man, and that he deserves to find happiness. The fae Prince flushes in embarrassment, offering her a heartfelt thanks and bowing his head respectfully. As Sebek's parents see him out, they tell him that if he ever needs anything, they're there for him, and to not hesitate to contact them if he has any questions. They can't help but smile to themselves as they watch the normally confident Malleus walk away, his shoulders and head drooped down in nervousness as he contemplates his future. They hope that you and him will find eternal bliss in each other's embrace.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… walking around Briar Valley, getting to know his future subjects. He wants to know how his fae subjects feel about the presence of humans, how they might feel if there were to be a human ruler alongside him, and if they would be willing to accept a human/fae child as their next heir. He will do what it takes to prepare his subjects for the new age, trying to get ahead of any problems before they arise. He is especially curious about the older generations, and what they might think of him as a leader. He doesn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and he wants to honor his parents' legacy by creating a safe, secure future for their kind. He wants to bring about a world where humans and fae can coexist, where children of both species can grow up with mutual respect. He goes out of his way to form relationships with the humans who reside in Briar Valley, diligently learning how best he can serve them as the future King. His purpose is to make his kingdom a safe haven for humans to live in hopeful anticipation that you'll one day soon choose to live there with him. He listens to his human subjects' concerns, offering advice on their difficulties, and promising to enact new legislation that would benefit them. He makes it abundantly clear that he values the human residents of his kingdom and is committed to ensuring that their lives are better than they were before. He tells them that their children will not only be able to live in harmony with the fae, but that they will thrive. He wants to give them a world that you would be proud to call home. He is eager to show you that he can be a great King, and that he is worthy of your love and affection. He feels a sense of pride when he sees the humans' faces light up as he shares his plans for the Kingdom once he takes the crown.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… appearing before his grandmother Maleficia’s throne, secure and ready to finally confess to you. Unwilling to let anything else stand in his way, he begins telling her – not asking her – with the utmost respect and authority, leaving no room for discussion that he has fallen hopelessly in love with a human. He needs her to trust him – her only grandson – as he gives his heart and devotion to a member of the very species that took everything from her. His hands are shaking yet his eyes never falter, his determination to love you against all odds burning bright in his heart. He has made up his mind and he won't be taking any objections. He tells her about you, your kindness, your charisma, and your integrity. He wants her to know how lucky he is that a pure-hearted being like you would have chosen someone like him to befriend, to place your faith and trust in. He eagerly explains all the ways you've changed him for the better, and how he wants to devote his life to protecting you, and growing by your side. There has never been another that can light up the night sky with the same level of brightness as your beautiful smile, or whose laugh could fill the vast empty space between the stars. He tells her he wants to give you the best life he can possibly provide, and he hopes she will come to accept and love you just as he has. She sits in shock, unable to respond. The anger she feels is indescribable, as she can't believe her grandson, her own flesh and blood, could betray her and his mother like this. She thought she raised him better than this – to be stronger than the temptation of a human. And now, he stands before her, looking her dead in the eye and telling her he wants to be with one of them. She can't bear the thought of losing him, yet she knows it's inevitable if she were to deny him his wish. The look in his eyes is something she has never seen in him before – pure conviction. She can’t control him any more. His love for you has given him a strength she never knew he had. As much as she hates to admit it, he is happier than she's ever seen him. The confidence in his voice, the glimmer in his eye, the determination in his step – it reminds her of her daughter. Malleus always bore a striking resemblance to his mother, but he has never looked more like her than he does right now, defying Maleficia's wishes in pursuit of happiness. She knows she can't change his mind, so she sighs and waves her hand dismissively, telling him he can do as he pleases. The anger in her veins dissipates as Malleus begins to walk out of the throne room, and she feels compelled to tell him how proud his mother would be, despite it all. She tells him that his mother hated humans, but she loved him more. Malleus can't help the tears that escape his eyes, thanking his grandmother for her blessing, feeling accomplished and complete. Now all that's left is to tell you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… breathes new life into the cold castle, ready to fill the halls back up with love for the first time in centuries. Gazing up at the blank castle walls, smiling to himself as he imagines them adorned with picture frames of the two of you on your wedding day, or of you holding your child together for the first time, or even just simple, happy memories like picnics or holidays. He feels warmth in his chest as he pictures the two of you standing by the window, admiring the sunset and reminiscing on all the years you've spent together. For the first time in his life, he comes to see the castle not as a prison, but as a home. A place where the two of you will live out the rest of your days, raising children, and creating beautiful memories that will be cherished forever. Every room he passes elicits a lovely new vision. He steps into the study, one of his favorite places as a child, running his fingers along the ancient bookshelves, excited at the prospect of rereading old favorites with your head nestled under his arm, the two of you snuggled up on the cozy couch. He peeks his head into the ballroom and music begins playing in his head as he imagines holding you close, feet gliding as you two spin around the room, the candles surrounding the area casting a perfect glow on your blissful smiles, as you lose yourself in each other's eyes. In the dining room, he envisions the two of you sitting across from each other at the grand dining table, flashing flirty eyes in each other's directions, stealing the last bite from each other's forks with kisses and laughs. As he wanders aimlessly through the long, winding hallways, the past merges with his vision of the future, and the two mix perfectly. It's difficult to feel alone anymore. It's no longer the chilled, looming emptiness that Malleus knew before. Now, it's a sacred, protected place that is waiting for your life, and love, to be poured into the rooms until it's finally brimming with the warmth and laughter of family again. All you have to do is say yes.

workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!

all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ

"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...

there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,

you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.

your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!

and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,

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.

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