#pubs with playgrounds

[dairisrls]

NEW ONE-SHOT FIC: BORNE CEASELESSLY BACK

“Come play.” Dankovsky stopped and stared. In his exhaustion-addled mind, he almost thought he must have misheard the child. Lacking any energy to put towards eloquence, he simply repeated the question. “… what?” “Play with us!” It was the older boy who spoke up this time. “You always look so… pinched, you know? Like this.” He wrinkled his forehead, scrunched his nose, and twisted his lips in an exaggerated look of displeasure. “Mama says your face will get stuck like that if you do it too much. So… come play.” — In which the Bachelor, at his lowest, remembers the carefree nature of childhood, if only for a moment.

[gingerbredman1989]

Soulful Ginger Muscle

Playground AI

[hotchfiles]

i also get this huge sadness and motherly feel like... why is no one protecting these kids? why are these 11, 13, 17 year olds risking their lives for their ideals and for the greater good WHERE ARE THEIR MENTORS WHERE IS THE LAWWWWWWWW

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

[tonycries]

Amen (Hey, Men!) - G.S.

Synopsis. BIoodshed. BIoodIust. Vampires. It was no wonder you’d turn to the charming new priest in town during dark times like these…but Father Gojo seems to be interested in you in ways that are more than sinful. And there’s nothing holy about him, either.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, priest!Gojo, VAMPIRE AU, slight wild west AU, slight vioIence, reIigious themes, mentions of déath, slightly eerie, small town gossip, first times, oraI (fem rec.), he goes FÉRAL, fíngering, bíting, spítting, p sIapping, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, mentioned bIood, matíng presses, size kínk, breaking furniture, D slipping, manhandIing, he’s BIG, tummy buIges, D piercing, dúmbifícation, squírting, marathons, fated ones, matíng marks, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.0k

A/N. Tysmmm to the babygirls that voted on this poll <3

“H-help-” Words tremble weakly from your throat, drowning underneath the wailing wind. The storm was furious; forming iron walls of rain that blocked every dusty road and lane of your idle country town. “Please help-”

And your escape.

You thought you knew better than to trust the rumor mill. A few murmurs here, a hasty funeral with a closed casket there, and then two more exactly the same. It had everyone - from haunted elders at the local pub, to children on the playground - uttering only one word.

Vampire. 

And then, you’d seen it- him. 

Just the thought itself is enough to send your aching legs surging towards the nearest, faint yellow light on the midnight street. Safety. “H-he’s comin’ for me- please-” 

Terrified to even turn your back, you race to bang your fists against the oak doorway of the building. For fear of seeing those eyes again - two glowing sapphires piercing at you from the dark. “He’s here-” Cold. Just like-

“Going somewhere, my angel?”

Lightning crashes against the sky. And you crash into his arms. 

Staring right into the blue, blue eyes of Gojo Satoru.

Who else could it be? 

That warm, handsome priest your age who’d taken it upon himself to renovate the dilapidated ol’ church of your town. It’d been forgotten for ages - and with it, the fear for what came after you were no longer upon this Earth.

Now you had both the recent string of deaths and Father Gojo to remind you.

And oh, were you reminded - it was hard to miss him. Especially in a town so small. 

Golden cross always swinging in the middle of his dark black cassock, Bible always in large hands that you couldn’t look away from.

Perhaps it was sacrilegious, perhaps it was fleeting fancy- because there always was much to see. 

From the broad shoulders filling out his holy robes, to the slight dimples that cratered his pale cheeks any time he grinned - at least you weren’t alone with your admiration. For it had only been a few weeks since Gojo had arrived, as quietly as if he’d simply parted the heavens and set foot here, and he was already starring in as much of your town’s gossip as the myth of the vampire was.

Well, a myth no longer, you’re realizing. And it’s enough to make your shivering fingertips clench-

Onto…a firm arm? 

You blink, looking up only now to register that it wasn’t just any arm - it was Gojo’s arms. Heated. Strong. Around you. 

The only thing holding your weight up right now, as your weakened legs made themselves useless. 

And Gojo himself was peering down at you through his long, pale lashes. Close. Close enough that your wet-streaked cheeks bristle at his scorching breath, “My, you look like you’ve been face to face with the Reaper himself, beloved.” His rosy lips curl at the ends, slightly. “Or…worse.”

That makes you gasp- fighting in his grasp, you snap your head over your shoulder and stare into the darkness behind you. Just hoping it won’t stare back. “It- he- was f-following me- kept after me, wouldn’t let up-”

“Pardon?”

“The- the vampire!”

His eyes seem to flicker in the dim lighting, and Gojo speaks not a word. Just lets out what sounds like a short, sharp gasp- before tucking you deeper into his embrace. 

And it would almost be scandalous, you knew. If it wasn’t for the rain then one of the neighbours might have peeked their head out, and by tomorrow afternoon the entire town would be ablaze with the news of the priest holding a rain-drenched woman outside the church itself.

But Gojo didn’t care if anyone would see, it seems.

Because he only tugs you tighter against his tense core once he feels you struggling, “There there, my angel. It must have been quite the fright, the Lord has surely tested your courage.”

“Oh, it was downright terrifying. One moment I was closing up my stall- ready to walk back home tonight, and the next thing I know I hear the crunch of a twig.” 

Close. “Interesting.”

“He towered over me like a mountain- and just as cold. I-I think he was gunning for my blood next-”

Closer. “Real interesting.” So close that you could count each spike of grey in his irises, and every vibrato in his baritone voice. “No harm shall come to you whilst these holy walls and I stand, my darling. He shan’t lay a hand on you.” And then Gojo smiles, crooked and gleaming in the glowing candles from behind him. “Not a single hand.”

You seem to breathe out, for the first time in what feels like years. Simply held. 

Simply ignoring the coil of something deep down in your stomach- you busy yourself with the frigid dig of something hard against your back, where his hands glided up n’ down soothingly. Like the corner of a book-

“Oh, heavens. I have forgotten myself.” Gojo starts, noticing the most minute shiver that runs down your spine. 

In a singular, fluid motion, he’s breaking away to shut the heavy wooden doors and usher you inside- so fast that you half-heartedly wonder whether it may be spellwork. “Please, come in. Soak up some warmth in my office.”

“Th-thank you, Father.”

“Please. Call me by name.”

And you can’t help but follow.

Noticing the small, tattered book that was clutched in one of his hands - ah, that was what you’d been feeling on your skin. Guiltily, you think you must have interrupted him during his reading time…

As Gojo turns his back on you to lead you down the long, candle-lit hallway of the church, you can’t help but narrow your eyes at the tiny book swinging by his side. It didn’t look like his usual Bible-

“Ah, here.” You’re looking up to see Gojo dip his lengthy fingers into a side pocket within his dark robes. Almost melding with the shadows of the candles, it’s as if he’s pulling a long, stringed rosary from thin air. “Take my rosary. Let your faith guard you when I cannot, beloved.”

“O-oh, thank you again, Father-”

His dimple winks, “Satoru.”

“Right…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, even as he probes you with half-lidded eyes to do so. Instead, busying yourself by tugging on the incense-scented necklace, it weighs light ‘round your neck. And you can’t help but run your fingers over each bead- “I won’t forget this.” 

And the very second your eyes flit up- you see him, Bible grasped in his hand like it always had been.

Strange, you quiver your head slightly, tonight must have shaken you up more than you thought for you to be seeing things that weren’t there.

Though, it should’ve been expected with how disorientingly massive the interior of the church was. Much too immense for such a town. You didn’t remember it being this grand before Gojo had arrived- far arches of the ceiling peered in with gargoyles, high stone walls carved with faint effigies. 

Ahead of you, the pews were polished enough to act as mirrors. And as you turned left past the high place of worship down a corridor towards his office, you couldn’t help but feel like the building was swallowing you whole. 

“Something the matter, my angel?” Gojo’s voice breaks through the cold silence, back still turned. “Still troubled by what the Lord has shown you?”

Clutching the delicate rosary, “It- it’s just…it wasn’t the vampire that spooked me.” You twist, and so does the string of beads in your hands. “But those eyes?” 

“Yes–?”

“Hell rode in ‘em.”

The clap of thunder, the clash of dry prayer beads on polished stone.

It’s as if each degree of warmth bled by the candles blows out in a single gale of wind the very moment you say this. 

Boring into your very soul, Gojo’s pale eyes are almost other-wordly as he turns. “Worry not, for no monster can enter through these holy walls, beloved.” Chuckling, and the rolling spheroids of his now-shattered rosary sing as he steps past them. 

A tall, shadowed figure leading you into the dark.

“Except humans, of course.”

.

.

.

“Sugar-–! The finest sugar from the East-”

“Boots half-off–!”

“-get yerself velvet-”

The market was always alive, despite everything. A bustling, breathing thing lined with snug stalls upon either side of a dust-track road. And you were stationed at your fruit stall, as usual, as if you hadn’t damn near been the lucky fourth on a long list of closed caskets. 

Shuddering, your fingers tighten on the wooden panel where you’d lined your plethora of fruits. 

Eyes darting towards the melting yolk sun warming your skin- right, it was still light out. The elders whispered that vampires feared the day - and so you were safe. For now. You had to make sure to pack up as soon as the others did, no more idling around tonight.

“My my, isn’t that Father Gojo- oh, what a sight for sore eyes he is.” Your head turns at the coo of the bookseller’s young daughter, Miwa, her stall right next to yours.

And it didn’t take long for you to see what she was talking about- not long at all for you to nearly want to fluster, too. 

Because there was Gojo Satoru - even in the distance, he was two heads taller than anyone else. With his stark ivory locks catching the daylight, tight cassock snug against his waist and fluttering ever-so-slightly as he weaved through the flea market, the calling pedlars. 

“Oh, Father Gojo- I hear he built that dingy ol’ church right up with his bare hands-”

“I know he’s gotten nearly twenty-seven proposals by the wealthiest families, but guess what? Rejected ‘em all!”

“And that purity ring, oh, a true man of the holy script. Why, forget their daughters, I would have proposed myself- oh, but don’t tell my husband.”

The whispers made you squirm for some strange reason. It was a hasty retreat from the church last night after a brief bout of warming tea in his office, lest someone caught you and thought something else. And you didn’t expect to see him so soon; least of all have his fiery blue eyes waft through each shabby stall as if he was drinking them in. 

So close. Close enough that you couldn’t help but let out an dragged-out sigh-

“Oi. Oi! You deaf or somethin’- fuck’s sake.” 

Oh. Shit.

“M-my apologies, sir-” You’re gasping, snapping your head to the front of your fruit display to find that you’d attracted the attention of none other than Zenin Naoya, sole heir of the house of Zenin merchants. As if your day couldn’t have been any more eventful.

Well, as long as he was a paying customer. Plastering a plastic smile across your face, you gesture towards the ripe red pomegranate held in his grip. “Want me to tally that up?”

Scoffing, “No not after that shoddy customer service. It’d be the last time I spend a dime in this dump.” He tilts his head defiantly, “What’s got yer eyes so occupied anyways-”

“Nothing-”

“Hehhh–?” And you’re appalled to see the way Naoya’s smile curls as he swivels his head the same direction you were looking in - one that half the market was surely turned to admire at this point.

The sight of priest Gojo Satoru bent in playful conversation with a little child, beaming. 

“Sweet on that damn preacher, huh? Isn’t it a sin to watch him that close, sweetcheeks?”

You bristle, “I beg you not to say another blasphemous word-”

“Oh, I bet the gossips at the general store’d eat this little turn of events right up.” Naoya titters, pomegranate now rhythmically thrown up n’ down into the air to be caught. “Small town like this? News like that won’t stay quiet for long. Real shame, huh?”

Only one word and it wouldn’t just be you paying the price, it would be poor, undeserving Father Gojo as well. You stay quiet. You can only stay quiet. 

More so to stop from snatching that pomegranate and slamming it straight into his sneering face. 

But Naoya takes that as an opportunity to lean in- to let his tobacco scent cloud all over your face as he grumbles. “Unless, maybe you care to keep me company for one ni-”

“My darling, pray tell, did you know that the Greeks figured the pomegranate to be symbols of abundance and fertility?” A smooth, simpering voice cuts in- and so does a slender hand that stretches its pale fingertips to clasp the pomegranate in Naoya’s palm.

What? You’re blinking at rapid-fire speed, looking from the familiar newcomer to where you’d just been staring seconds prior - how was he here? So quickly? All of a sudden? 

And Gojo doesn’t even let out a pant of fatigue as if he’d been running, only curving his lips into an icy smile down at the other man. “The Lord speaks through consumption. Planning to expand the family, mister Naoya?”

“I- you-” Naoya strangles out, he jabs. A finger right into the smiling face of Gojo, and then into the space between you two. “My ol’ man shall hear of this. See how holy you really are when you’re-”

Gojo grins, leaning down from his towering height as if he was speaking to a child. “He shall be welcome to find me. Sermons are on Sundays.”

“Tch-” 

With one last glower, and a few more muttered words underneath his breath, you can only watch in speechless amusement as the seething man promptly turns his back and saunters away. Fast. Furious. 

“You have saved me yet again.” You’re breathing out in relief, finally raising your head to look up and oh- did he look absolutely magnetic bathed in the blood-orange light of the setting sun. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I do beg your pardon, to defend your holy honor is the least I can do, beloved.” And you don’t know where to look - the dimples decorating Gojo’s cheeky grin, or the peripheral vision of Miwa beside you mouthing ‘beloved’ in shock. 

But Gojo always does steal your attention away in the end, and the buzzing marketplace rings with the snap–! of his bare, neat nails cracking open the outer rind of the pomegranate. 

Letting thin trails of crimson run down his wrist like blood, “I was not jesting about the Greeks and their belief of fertility.” You gulp as his pinkish tongue darts out just teasingly to run down a stray droplet of juice before it inched too close to his long sleeves. “Try it, my angel.”

Before you can say a word, one hand tucks his Bible, and the other holds a clump of bright, beaded pomegranate to your quivering lips. 

And you swear you hear the bookseller gasp! when you gingerly take it into your mouth. Humming at the explosion of sweet, saccharine syrup. “I can see why- about the Greeks, I mean. Now, if only that snake Mahito didn’t swindle me of the price each time.”

“Hm, is that so?” He huffs out slightly deep laughter, sharing more fruit. “But this was no idle trip to the market today. Truth be told, I came, with earnest heart, to see you.”

“M-me?”

Unaware of the restlessness he’s seeping through your very veins, Gojo tucks a free hand between his Bible and pulls out a long, now-fixed rosary. The very same one you’d accidentally torn apart just the night before-

“It was to give you this.”

Your ears burn with the hushed, pointed whispers of the market as he reverently puts the necklace ‘round your neck. And the cold flowers of the pearly chain nearly sizzle against your skin. “O-oh, thank you, Father-”

“Satoru.” Gojo smiles. He nods. 

He reaches over to hold one of your clasping hands, pressing his mouth against your pomegranate-stained fingertips. In an instant. Red, red juice drips from the ends of your digits and stains his lips scarlet - almost in a kiss.

Oh.

He taps the nearby book stall in goodbye, “Until next time, my darling. Have a blessed day.”

With that - and nothing more - as swiftly, and as quietly as he’d arrived, Gojo Satoru was disappearing back into the thronged crowd. Cross on his chest, Bible in hand.

And you barely register the giddy whispers of Miwa- all but gripping your shoulders and jostling you back and forth at the excitement of coming across the most scandalous piece of gossip to hit this town since the vampires. 

Hissing feverishly, “-way he cast his eyes upon you and- and how long has this been going on?”

“I uh-” At this point she was shaking you, much to the amusement of passersby. Monotone, “Don’t you have your mother’s stall to run, kid- oh.”

And something catches your eye, something tattered. Something blue. 

Something that you swear looked exactly like that old book Gojo had for but a mere split-second in his arms last night. Neatly piled at the top of Miwa’s column of novels on sale. And you can’t stop yourself from pointing, “Hey, what’s the price of that book?”

“Oh? Hm…” Picking it up, she scrunches her eyes in thought. “I don’t remember such a book being here, least of all in this condition- my momma would’ve skinned me alive.” Then, suddenly she perks up. “Tell ya what- you tell me more on wha’s happening between you and Father Gojo and I’ll give you this here thing for free.”

.

.

.

There wasn’t much that one could do during a monsoon rain, and raindrops fall heavy on the roof of your cozy lil’ home. Making the wooden structure creak and sing you to relaxation as you tried to take your mind off of what happened when night arrives.

Who arrives, as night does.

“I’m starting to spook my own self.” You’re notching up your oil lamp to flare up even brighter; so long as you had this, no vampire would set his clutches on you. 

Sighing, you search for a distraction in your gunnysack bags from the marketplace. Leftover fruits still good, a stray few hairpins, and oh- 

A soft gasp leaves your mouth as you find it - that small, blue book you’d bought just a few days ago, not having had the time to read through just yet. No author. No date. Yet, you look over the faded gold print of the cover, “‘Scripture of Shadows’, huh?”

Satisfied, you drag your armchair to where your oil lamp sat sleepily on a windowsill, and start to read by flickering fire light. 

‘Prologue: On Creatures That Walk Among Us. 

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against. —Ephesians 6:12

In the years of my ministerial labors, I have come to learn that one may never truly know what walks alongside you. There are creatures in every shadow you look - though you may not see. 

Out past the edge of God’s hand, these things are borne of hunger and sin - they may be cursed, fallen, or bound to their flesh cruth; salvaged only by thirst that no godly mortal can explain. I have seen them, spirits of ruin that massacre entire herds and weep alongside the shepherd in the waking morn’. 

Yes, dear reader, they may take shapes you belove—wolf, woman, child, lover. And above them all, vampires-’

The flash of lightning, the grumble of thunder- you’re jumping in your seat and nearly slamming the heavy tome shut with a yelp. Wide-eyed, you take a hasty glance through the window, feeling your skin blanket in skittering goosebumps. 

“Dear gods-” Breathless, you’re flipping through a few more pages on vampires and other such entities to settle on a random chapter. 

‘Chapter Four: The Myth of the Vampyre.’

Heavens, why was this always following you like so? And what was Father Gojo doing reading up on such a thing- skipping a few paragraphs and scriptures, you continue reading in honed silence.

‘Perhaps the most cunning of demonic creatures. Not truly dead, nor truly alive, the vampyre boasts the most fearful humanly power of all—beauty. Indeed, they possess much more; overwhelming strength, teeth to kill, speed to hunt. And yet, I have seen more mortals fall victim to the enticing nature of the vampyre than any other creature.’

Perhaps it was the topics taled in the book, perhaps it was the raging storm outside, but you can’t help but squirm restlessly in your seat as you feel oddly…watched. 

‘Let this scripture stand, then, not as idle fancy, but as a caution towards the charismature essence of the vampyre. With this, most hold positions of great authority. Infiltrating even the most tight-knit towns with ease - among them, mayors, teachers, merchants, and mostly-’

Someone was watching you. 

You stare up at the empty, pitch-black square of your window. And then back down past a few paragraphs-

‘But fear not, dear reader, though they cross realms of living and shadow, the vampyre has one confirmed flaw - not sunlight, nor garlic, as tales claim. It is barred from thresholds unbidden, for only when an invitation is offered, may the creature enter. And Revelation 3:20–’

You look up.

The empty window.

The full book.

‘Take care to hold forth the crucifix and be not deceived by beauty or charm. But be cautioned, god-fearing reader, even vampyres have tales of legends. Those of their kind so infamous-’

The empty window.

The full book.

‘-that we hear merely brief whispers of his name, one so vicious and almighty that even vampyres dare not evoke His anger.’

The empty window.

‘An omniscient being amongst even creatures of the shadows, his name-’

A flash of blue-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You gasp. 

Urgently, you drop the book and hurry to the ramming fist at your door, more to get away from its words than anything else. 

KNOCK! KNOCK!

“C-coming–!”

Your rickety front door creaks as you swing it open, immediately struck with the light of the storm and the icy breath of rain. Wincing against the droplets of water that hit your face, you can just barely make out the flicker of blue, blue eyes. 

Gojo tips his hat to you solemnly, “I pray I’m not disturbing you, my angel.” His deep voice rings out, curiously above even the howl of the wind, and his pretty face simply looks haunted. “Forgive the haste, but I came straight away- there’s been another attack.”

Out of breath, “A-another vampire attack?”

“We fear so, ranch hand Mahito this time. Neck punctured, eyes white- God have mercy on us.” He shakes his head, “The town’s congregatin’ for a special Mass tomorrow, I would like it if you were to join us together to pray for the four lost souls.”

“Of course of course.” You’re taking in the layers of water that soak through Gojo’s dark robes, skin-tight over his heaving chest. Opening your door wider invitingly, “Please, come on in. Oh, you’re just drenched.”

And he opens his eyes just a tad wider, he curls his lips just a slight further. 

“I fear I cannot, beloved. So many more houses to alert.”

Gawking at yet another clap of lightning- “In this storm?”

And you have no idea how he can just smile like that during dark times like these. The pearly whites of his canines wafting near the shell of your ear as Gojo leans in- whispering. “Worried for me?” 

He takes a step, his rain-soaked clothes chill your skin as he inches forwards. Then another step, trying to listen in for your breaths. Your lack of an answer. “You should be worried. Though, not for me.”

Lashes fluttering, “Wh-what do you…”

“Be careful, my angel.” And your collarbones turn humid with the steam of his breath, the way he’s moving his ajar maw down. “You’d do well not to open the door for strangers. Lest you wish to invite…” Down, down, down—“-a vampire.”

You wait - gasps stuttered, fists clenching once he takes a step past your doorway. Just a singular, miniscule step-

Only to brush off something invisible from your shoulder, touch warm on your skin.

“I bid you a goodnight, my darling. Rest well.”

And with that Father Gojo was gone, and so was any wink of sleep that very night. Or any memory of that book, now laying as open and untouched as it had been left on the floor. 

.

.

.

“I ask you not to give into fear- neither anger, nor isolation. Solely to the word of God.” Gojo’s fervent voice sing-songs over the numerous pews. Hands waving, feet stepping. “And I ask you to watch over your kin, pray over those lost, and keep your lamps lit with the faith that He watches.”

It was impossible to tear your eyes off of him.

And you’re sure that the elderly lady seated right beside you was drenching her fifth handkerchief in tears already.

“Trust in me, as I trust in Him. For even in the darkest night, there is still light to be found. For no creature can snuff out the soul of one who believes…”

As you’re nodding, you can’t help but feel that familiar sensation of eyes burning into you. Though, softer than last night- less…frightening. Darting your line of sight behind you to catch Naoya assessing you- and you couldn’t snap your head back faster. 

Instead, catching Gojo’s own twinkling eyes as he finishes his sermon. 

“And who is a vampire to Him? Go forth, and may the Lord be with you. Amen.”

There’s a rush after concluding rites, a crowd forming around Gojo before he can take even a step from the polished pulpit. And just as you close your books to stand from your seat yourself, ready to head home- something tugs on your wrist.

“Oi- I still have a bone to pick with you, missy.”

Or more…someone.

“Naoya.” You’re deadpanning, snatching your wrist free to stare him down with a glare that was utterly not suited for the place you were in right now. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He spears his index your way, “Don’t you go thinking that I’ve forgotten ‘bout you and that tch- preacher.”

Standing your own, you sneak glances at the thinning crowd and just pray they won’t give this little quarrel an ear. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“Telling me nothing’s happened, sweetcheeks?” Naoya huffs, “I heard you talkin’ with that sobbing hag- saying how he invited you personally for today’s sermon.”

“Why, yes. What seems to be the problem?”

“You think he went knockin’ on any of our doors at the dead of night?”

Your brows furrow, wouldn’t he have? After all, it was what he said.

“But, of course, he’s gonna invite you personally. The day right there by the fruit stall? The way he was undressing you with his eyes today—I wouldn’t be a darn bit surprised if he’s laid with a shameless woman like you already-”

“And if that is so? Jealous?”

Naoya gasps, and so do about fifteen of the nosy townsfolk lingering by the pews. 

Wincing as Naoya’s grating voice threatens to speak once more–

“Mind your tongue, mister Naoya.” A steady hand claps down on the shorter man’s shoulder, and this silvery bangs flick towards the interruption of the one and only priest. “We stand on hallowed ground.”

Just as he turns his fury towards Gojo instead, his palm squeezes where it lay- hard enough that you can hear the faint pop! of something emanating from the contact. And before he can say any further, Gojo tilts his head down to whisper something in Naoya’s ear.

Something that has him pale. Trembling. And rushing out of the church faster than you can even blink. 

As Gojo smiles at the rest of your company in a polite dismissal, you’re fighting back an awed whistle from your throat. “Pardon my language but-” Eyes steady on his rapidly retreating figure, shoving past each attendee misfortunate enough to cross his path. “-what in blazes did you say to him, Father-”

“Satoru.”

You grin, “Gojo.”

“And ah, I only spoke the truth- that this was God’s sanctuary.” He tilts his head with a beam, though, there’s something about it that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And perhaps something of his father…”

“You’re the devil.”

“Quite the opposite.” Never one to care for gossip, Gojo wastes not a second leaning down till his breath wafted your cheeks. Snowy brows pinched into one of regret, “That reminds me, do forgive my intrusion last night, beloved, I pray I didn’t come at a bad time.”

You flail your hands in disagreement, “Oh, heavens no-” In fact, the eerie book rested upon your bookshelf, and you couldn’t have asked for a more welcome interruption. “I was just…reading a book, you see.” 

“So you say.”

Carefully watching for his reaction, “Called um- ‘Scripture of Shadows.’”

And if you expected him to gasp- if you expected Gojo to even blink at the familiar title, then he doesn’t give you the satisfaction. Only nodding his head in deep understanding, “Anything interesting in that book, my angel?”

“Only fearful.”

He jests, “Then you should devote those eyes to the Lord.” 

You grip your rosary, “I shall do both.”

“Good.” The call of Gojo’s names for blessings and prayers were often, and he nods his head towards a group beckoning him over. As he turns to walk away–“Chapter six is particularly fascinating…and I have plans to reread it tonight.” He whispers, just barely audible over the sound of footsteps on the hardwood holy floor. “My door is always open for you, my darling.”

Oh.

.

.

.

Step.

Step.

Step.

“Hello?”

You didn’t know whether it was the darkness or the taboo in what you were doing that had your footsteps rattling in noisy unison with your heartbeat. 

It was dark - dark enough outside that the neighbors wouldn’t be able to make out your flickering oil lamp through the blanket of the night. Light in one hand, your book in the other, you let yourself slip through the unlocked gates of the church, making your way down the winding hallway that you knew led to Father Gojo’s office. 

Though, it was not the church like you’d ever known it.

And you’d known it crumbling from the walls, you’d known it manifested into something grand - but never so…chilling. 

Each candle was snuffed out, puffing out ghosts of smoke that curled up in the high hallway. Clinging onto your shivering shoulders and making you flinch at each miniscule noise in the distance- “Father Gojo? Are you present toni- mmpf.” 

Your mouth gapes, aghast, nose wrinkling when it felt like you’d just been run over by a carriage. But, it wasn’t a carriage at all - it was a thick, metallic scent that permeated the frigid air and made you stop straight in your tracks.

Hand coming up to cup your mouth, “What is that godforsaken smell?” 

Step. 

Step. 

And it only gets thicker. More relentless. 

Soon enough you’re fully closing your tingling nostrils with your palm and hopelessly praying that it was only a passing perfume. For this wasn’t just the tinge of metal you might smell as you pass the time piece-maker, rather, it was heavy. Slightly sweet. 

Step. 

The one you’d smell on the butcher.

Iron. 

Your eyes widen- blood.

Gojo. 

Running. 

All but sprinting, you’re staggering further down the hallway to where you’d remembered were his quarters. Following the faint memory of his candlelit office, fear laces its frosty grip ‘round your heart as you call out. “F-father Go- oh!”

And it seems you’d forgotten that light reveals more in the shadows than you might want to see.

Red.

Red, red pools paint the grey stone of the church in a bloody mosaic. 

You gasp, body running a few steps backwards on pure instinct at the pale hand sinking into the blood like a desolate ship. Mindlessly, the hand holding your oil lamp jerks over to reveal pale, silvery bangs peeking out from the crimson puddle.

Your heart races- was this. No. Stepping tentatively closer, your mouth drops as once you spy a few stray strands of deep, two-toned black. Naoya. 

“Bitter.”

Slowly…achingly…your quivering oil lamp raises up to the darkness behind Naoya’s corpse. And there you see it - two bright, harrowing eyes of azure blue that bored into your very soul from beyond. 

His eyes. 

Just a flash of those, a mere single glimpse is all that you’re given before the light crashes down to the ground, and you’re both plunged into darkness.

Both you and Gojo Satoru.

Who shoves you against the nearest wall with such inhuman speed, so fast that you don’t even have the time to register it, register your rosary breaking.

One hand slamming down on the rocky wall above you, hard enough to make it crater an outline of his five fingers. The other cupping your cheek gently- almost gingerly, as if afraid to use his true strength with you. 

“Five bodies.” He rasps, and in the grimy lighting you can see two elongated glints of his canines, “Five bodies. All five of them bitter, but you, my darling…”

Before you can even take a closer look, he’s stuffing his face into the thrumming skin at the crook of your neck and drinking in a deeeeep inhale. A sigh. A groan.

“-I would kill for but a taste.”

And he already has, you’re realizing. 

You stammer, staring up into his pale, stoic face - looking at him properly now. 

From the sharp fangs poking through his rosy lips, to the beauty that was so incredible that it was other-worldly. He had a trail of dark red blood staining one side of his maw, a few droplets spattered onto the whites of his roman collar. 

“Y-you’re-”

“Say it.”

“You’re a vampire.”

Whimpering at the ice-cold breath that haunts your flesh, your pulse. “And you’re a delicacy.” He’s enveloping all of you, as if you were ripe for the picking- and you can feel the way your thighs tremble when Gojo’s pushing himself harder against your body. He’s holding you. 

Cassock rubbin’ your front, your book falling, golden cross startling.

Gojo raises his refined nose into the air just once to sniff, before the most simpering tone bleeds into his voice. “How adorable.” 

“Wh-what you- oh!” 

It seems you can’t help but fail in catching your breath whenever he’s around, even though it might just be your last. And Gojo slithers out his long, pinkish tongue to sliiiide down your racing pulse - wet and hot on your flesh, he’s tasting you. Savoring you. Enough to make something instantly hard n’ raw tug through the layers of his holy robe. 

One that he ruts between your legs-

Gojo tilts your face up by your jaw, nailmarks dotting your chin. He gives you a sensual peck, “Let me show you what true carnal pleasures are, little human.”

Maybe you’re nodding, maybe you’re simply gasping at the shock of his touch and bucking your hips up wildly - because that’s all it takes.

All that it takes for Gojo to scoop your weakened knees underneath a singular arm and turn- almost as soon as he did, you’re blinking your eyes to stare up at the ornate ceiling of the priest’s quarters. 

Right now you’re laid out across the large, cushioned couch in the middle of his room. Legs sprawled out embarrassingly, dress hiked high up to your knees where Gojo had kneeled himself on the floor in front of you.

Speed to hunt, the book had said. 

The very same book that he was now twirling between two pinched fingers and humming idly, “My my, it seems that you haven’t even read chapter four properly, my darling. Going against holy orders? Now, how should we rectify that, hm?”

Fingers itching for the hem of your skirts, “P-please-”

“Oh, the Lord has spoken to me.” Gojo gasps, suddenly, as if he’d just come to an epiphany. And his smile is simply sinful, sapphire eyes glowing- the very same ones you’d seen that night. “Bend.”

“Wha- hey!” 

In a nanosecond, he’s manhandling you like a puppet. Making you crawl onto your knees with your front plastered against the high seat of the couch. Arched directly in front of his salivating maw-

“This shan’t work if your heart didn’t will it, my angel.” Gojo muses, shit, how gorgeous you looked like this. Bent and ready for him. He doesn’t even have to make use of his inhuman eyesight to locate that pretty damp spot blotchily drenching through your dress.

You were so wet that all he had to do was lean his nose closer and sniff to drink in that sweet, heavenly scent of you. “Oh.” Gojo’s sharp nails tug on the hem of your thin dress, “Oh.”

Rip-rip-riiiiip—!

Every inch of your clothing melts like butter underneath his power, and the only thing you can do is whimper as you lay your spine arched. Thin panties the only thing you had on underneath during this humid night. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the last thing you hear before Gojo’s lengthy tongue probes at your sheeny inner thighs and laps up- not your drooling, puffy core where you’d needed him the most.

But instead the slight cut that had grazed your heated flesh as he tore off your dress- Gojo moans the instant your taste hits his tongue. Red-hot. 

Not even having to breathe, but his pants were labored, “Fuck.” The sloppy drag of his moistened muscle lets out the most sinful slurp when he’s licking and licking before nothing else is left of your crimson. And then he’s inching his tastebuds up your thighs. He wanted more. Needed it this very instant, all the patience of these immortal years and it wouldn’t be enough. Not even caring for your paper-thin panties, “Fuck-”

Hastily stuffing the quivering orifice of your puffy with his fat girth- before scoffing at the complete n’ utter tightness that wouldn’t let him go completely in. “Pure as a dove, aren’t you, beloved?”

“I-I’ve never…” Tearfully mewling at the burning streeeetch, Gojo’s tongue was just so massive that even the slightest probe inside made your head loopy. “Never done…this.”

The only thing he does is spank a hand down at the edge of your spine to make you bend even further- “Then show me how devoted you are.” Straight into his mouth. Straight into a pert, pretty target for him to spit. Thick, globular, and wet. “Show it to me, my darling.”

And it’s maddening how it’s the last thing that Gojo can get out before he flicks his sizzling tongue through your undergarments to taste down your slit. Letting the slippery wads of your slick fill up his tastebuds and make him groan-

You gawk over your shoulder when his eyes only dilate, sharp fangs growing even sharper. “Show-”

With a hand groping the left of your ass cheeks, he’s tuggin’ you all back to him with an inhuman strength that makes you keen. 

That makes his metallic crucifix press against the backs of your thighs. Fanged lips hovering over your outer pussy as he wetly nuzzles aside your panties to slip his tongue past-

You buck, “Sh-shit, Gojo-”

“Oh.” He’s shuddering at the act of you bucking up stupidly, chasing the temperate French kiss of his mean mouth. Giving him even more of a taste that he just can’t take it- 

“Dear heavenly father, I thank you for this meal.”

And then it all happens at once- your soggy panties are torn off you in a split-second, Gojo’s mouth replacing it even more rapidly. 

Bent over the chair, he’s eating out your saccharine sweet pussy like a beast starved.

He glues his upper lip against the swollen nub of your clit and you whine at the sharp sting of Gojo’s fangs digging right up against your bundle of nerves. Sucking. Tasting. Until his cheeks are all hollowed out with the friction of his suckling and he’s still forcing himself deeper into your pussy for more.

“Oh g- fuck.” Head throwing back stupidly, his nose nudges against the very tip-top of your treacly cunt. “It feels so, so good-”

“A meal this exquisite- never in my s-six hundred years.” He’s muttering between the swollen folds of your pussy, lining your slippery slit with the long line of his nosebridge. 

So messy. Gojo snickers in lewd amusement at the way you’re rolling your hips back to ride n’ slide his nose. He’s rovering his mouth everywhere, glassy eyes half-lidded until he’s simply moving in pure primal instinct to slap the curl of his long, lecherous tongue by the edge of your dampened hole.

Tugging the rubbery circle of it just enough to make you whimper, he circles out soppy patterns that stretch out your cunt. Back and forth back and forth until your limbs weaken. “Have you just finished your monthly dues, my angel?”

You’re gripping onto the wooden headboard of the chair for sweet relief, “Y-yes?”

“That explains it.” And then he nuzzles in nose-deep and even deeper into your drivelling pussy, up n’ down to latch onto your clit and bite. “The next time, you tell me first. I know exactly how to…”

Murmured straight into your hot pussy, mouth departing such a guttural groan as he feels your sap splash down with a noisy squelch. Alllll down his pointed chin and where he’s creepin’ up one of his free hands to caress your glossy outer pussy. “-help.” 

Squealing, you’re feeling just the thick crown of his index poke your cunt. “A-are you putting your ngh- fingers in?”

“I said I shan’t lay a hand on you.” And just then, the doughy palm of his second palm pushes your legs wide apart, not nearly enough to distract you from the flick of his flexible tongue and the way he smooches your filthy hole with yet another cushy fingerpad. “I shall lay two.”

And then you’re seeing raw white in your vision, the feeling of Gojo pushin’ his two ringed fingers past your first tight ring of muscle too much to bear.

Thick enough that you’re struggling to squeeze him inside- “Fuck back t’me- fuck back-”

“L-like this?”

He’s matching your sluggishly sensual pace, nose wrinkling sinfully at the velvety texture of your insides. Gojo’s cross necklace swats your thighs with each constant lurch of his head, crooning out. “Yes- yes. Oh, hell.”

He scrapes the mushy roof of your walls with his deep black purity ring, the cold material thrusting into your most sweetest spots and making him grin. “This is devotion, beloved.”

“Y-you’re just so big- nghhhh–” Your moans strike against the wide chamber and echo all across the building. Hips rutting back to feel his prolonged digits all the way down to the mountains of his knobbly knuckles, “Why are your fingers so big?”

“Only to please you, my darling.” And oh- oh, it was such a tight fit. 

Gojo can’t help but salivate the slimy tip of his tongue down your silvery slit and fucking pry your pussylips apart to let your snug channel take him deeper. Harder. Faster. The roaming shapes of his long, long digits scissor just so that he can stir apart your gluey walls and let you gush out slick.

Licking his way inside while he’s pushing into each nook n’ cranny- hitting down all the way to the base ends of his digits with a right thwack! 

“And you’re just so- ngh- looong—”

“Only to find-” Oh, you didn’t forget about those eyes of his, did you? Because right after he’s letting off a murky gust of those syllables, Gojo’s eyes glow- his fingers hammer - exactly into the bulging area of your g-spot. He’s seeing right through you. “-this sweet thing better, my darling.”

And then it’s absolutely driving you crazy- Gojo’s fingers are just so incredibly rude, swatting a furious back and forth. Thrash-thrash-thrash, determinedly perking up his fingerpads to push his purity ring against your g-spot and watch as you cutely flinch. 

“You’re so- oh- oh my god-” Making each scrape against your sweet spots so sensitive, pump after pump.

“I prefer…Satoru.”

He’s letting out a husky snicker each time he’s plunging into the deepest of your melty depths. Maw now gaping widely ajar to scoop up every glittery ribbon of slick that trickled from between your folds. He’s hungry- thirsting like a vampire parched for six hundred years n’ now he can only gulp in the first meal of his lifetime - you.

You’re bending your pussy to slope down against his mouth and he has the audacity to give you a sweet, puckered smooch. Innocent. “C’mon say it- pray.”

“Please-”

“Not what I asked, beloved.”

Your throat rips with such a carnal shrill at the pudgy crown of his third finger desperately trying to find a way in. Pushing- pap! pap! pap! “Pleeeease- ngh- Satoru. Satoru, fuck-”

SPANK! 

Such glistening beads of pearly slap stream n’ gush all down the front of Gojo’s bobbing throat the very moment he swats his plush palm down across your cunt. “Profanity is a desecration of the church, my angel.” 

Another spank. Another splurging squelch of your pussy talking out in leaks of your sweet, sweet juices. And Gojo only nods along as if in conversation, “How wonderful of you to volunteer to read chapter six in repentance-” Some invisible force of his powers is guiding your familiar shadowy book to your hands. “-and recite it in perfect condition, too.”

“But-”

“Perfect-” Just as a third finger spears its way between your slick-glazed pussylips and finds itself mazing down your walls, headed straight for your g-spot with a thump. Grinning. Voice airy. “-condition.”

A tiiiight fit, that makes you fumble with your poor book, your eyes whirling in the exact lecherous patterns he’s drawling out on your wettened cunt. Each sloppy slurp Gojo’s drinking in enough to make your wrists weaken-

“Ch-chapter six: The Vampyre’s ngh- Beloved.” Unsure of what has your mind spinning more, the title or the way that he’s picking his pace up angrily. “Many are unaware of- hah! the one weakness of the- fuck.”

Tittering, his dimples peek. “Keep going.”

“-the vampyre- hnghhh–”

“Don’t make me- oh.” And before you know it, not only does he have three of his fingers rummagin’ inside. But also the slither of his tastebuds stuffing insides- his vampire tongue so lengthy that it squeezes and squeezes ‘round your tight rim till he’s rutting his flushed cheeks against your cunt.

And the underside of your stomach crackles with a few sparks of bliss, “-the vampyre- their one true love.”

“Mmmmm, yes. Say that again.” 

“O-one true love?”

Gojo’s pulling back his tongue with a wettened squelch. Ravenous. Feral. He’s getting himself drunk on each drag that your restless body was quivering out - now moving everywhere and anywhere. 

Faster. Sloppier. 

Fucking back inside your hole. Slapping over your clit. Biting down on the swollen edge of your pussy just to hear those pretty cries, “One true love-” Then sticking the damp edges of his bangs to tickle your skin, he suckles on your clit like gum. “-my one true love.”

Again and again.

Moving so rapidly- it’s like he’s in three places at once. Swirling the long edge of his tongue around and around your walls until you’re babbling stupidly, “The fated mate- ngh- soulmate…?” Skipping paragraphs, enough to make Gojo give your pussy a quick spank.

“All scripture is God-breathed.”

“-c-can induce a different kind of bite in the vampyre. An unexplainable soul tie that happens merely once in- haaah- eternity- one that vampyres tear down heaven and hell for.” Oh, that gets him excited. 

Flicking his tongue furiously in hearts upon hearts on top of your sensitive clit now. Thoroughly. Feverishly, you’re half-wondering whether his lips weren’t aching- “And one such known- ngh- vampyre in search-”

“Yeeees–?”

“Gojo Satoru.”

And then you’re hitting it- that lewd, lecherous crash of your orgasm that’d been building up for what felt like eons at this point. 

“O-oh my god-” Was this what all those filthy romance books you hid away meant? It was so much better than a lonely night with your hand. You were cumming so hard that you’re seeing comical stars, letting go of the book. “Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru- I-I’m-”

“All over my face now. All over, my darling. C’mon.”

You didn’t even know where it started, you didn’t know where it ended. 

Just that it had your poor, trembling pussylips plastered to Gojo’s mouth like he was attaching it with adhesive. 

Inhuman strength holding your thighs down to stop you from even recoiling- because anything that would break off the rubbing massage of your cunt was something he had to halt. You were creamin’ all down Gojo Satoru’s face and he was making sure it stayed that way.

“Yes- yeeeees, that’s it. That’s it. Never in my life have I- hah-” Even speaking was such a difficult endeavor for him, not when he couldn’t bear to pull away mere inches from your gushing pussy. “-been more grateful for the fact that I don’t need to breathe.”

Thighs shaking, goosebumps taking over. You arch your back with a whine at the repeated flicks of his tongue on your clit- in dual stimulation with your g-spot. “B-but I do-”

In response, Gojo’s only crushing your poor pussy against his face further. “Hmmm- heh.” 

Only fucking you juuust a bit more with the coiling ends of his tongue, oh-so-lengthy like a snake’s. He swabs the bruised corners of your walls a few more times, gurgling through each fleck of gooey sap that escaped you. Before pulling back with such a loud, dramatic mwah! “Amen.”

Shocked, you flip your woozy head backwards to catch sight of his sleazy smirk, the way that his summer-blue eyes seemed to spark. Feeling your legs twitch slightly with the jolts of your high, “A-and about the vampire’s Beloved?”

“Huh? Oh.” Blinking his dazed eyes, he’s so pussydrunk that it takes Gojo a few seconds to even register what you’d just asked. “Well…will this prove my scripture’s truth, beloved?”

You’re being treated like a cute lil’ ragdoll at this point; because it doesn’t even take seconds for Gojo to perch a rude hand on the side of your hips and flip you over. 

With your back now against the cushion, you’re grappling for the woody bearings of the chair as he holds your ankles wide apart and lodges himself between them. “How devoted I am?”

“D-devoted?” You’re puffing out a humid breath, and your chin strikes your chest in your hurry to ogle the entire sight of Gojo Satoru. Because oh…oh, was he such an utter sight.

Your slick sheens the entire lower half of his handsome face- all the way up to his damn, ruddied cheekbones. Dripping down in sticky sloshes all across the hollows of his cheeks, and down his pointed fangs. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in just how glistening they were with all your glazes of sweet juices. 

He was wearing it like a mark of honor.

“So. Hopelessly. Devoted.”

Staining his neckline of his dark cassock even darker, you can’t help but notice that you were completely exposed while he was still dressed in his priests’ robes. Right down to the gold cross. 

Gojo slaps down the edge of his coral pink tongue to lick up the cloying excess glued to his mouth, staring dead-on at you all the while. “Oh…are you aware that I can smell whenever that pretty pussy gets even wetter?” 

“Y-you can?” You’re hissing, trying to close your legs but you can’t - not with Gojo pushing himself between them.

“It’s delicious.” Even deeper. Even wider, he stretches your legs and hunches over with his towering frame to fit a fat thumb between your spit-glossed lips. “I can smell your blood.” Sniffing your throbbing pulse, “Your need.” He glides his digit down your canines, so much more blunt than his fangs.

“And–?”

He looks down with a grin, “Your pussy.”

And Gojo could already sense your lewd impatience, holding onto the side of your waist with one hand- and the other pulling back to fumble with the golden buttons of his robes. 

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

“Satoru-”

“Ah ah.” He was such a damn tease. Unbuttoning only about halfway down his fitted cassock and black clerical shirt. Just enough for you to be spying his extremely chiseled front, from the bulge of his curvy pecs, to the ridges of his abs.

He was oh-so-naturally sexy that it made your mouth water. Ripped core flexing once he’s removing his belt and tugging down those pants of his, robes lifted now. Not enough for you.

But just enough that his red, aching cock springs free and hits the pure white happy trail on his abs with a thwack! 

Nine- maybe even ten thick inches. And you can only speechlessly gape, because he wasn’t just rock-hard…he was so hard n’ heavy that it must’ve been painful, like every drop of blood in his pale body was surging up to the bulbous tip of his cockhead. 

Gojo’s mushroomy tip blushes a scorching hot pink and leaks out hot precum as if he’s melting, a translucent splat! straight between the slitted slope of your pussy. “Any last words?”

You’re trembling, “L-last words?”

“Mmm—” He’s sandwiching the girth of his fat, veiny cock between your folds. Just so thick that your pussylips are already being spread near their absolute max- and was that…

You gasp, surging your head down and oh- you were feeling it right. Each n’ every time Gojo’s sliiiding his length between your cunt, your clit snags on the cold, bulging nib of something. A piercing. He had a piercing.

Like one of those you’d only heard they had in large cities and oh, you weren’t making it out of this alive. 

“M’gonna eat you alive, my angel.”

As if he’d just read your mind.

And you wouldn’t be surprised if he could- pure cottony static entering your brain the very second that Gojo’s aligning his smooth tip at your entrance and pushing.

The stretch is so much that you can only blink your teary lashes and keen– “I-it’s so big- oh, shit, go easy on me, Satoru.” Especially when you’ve never been stretched out like this before.

So-very-vulgarly, Gojo only hovers his wet-glazed thumb down to tip aside your plush folds. It was so cute, like your swollen pussy was puckering right up at him every time he nudged his hips back to give your tight hole a good probe.

“Is that all?” He’s inspecting with a grin, ringed fingers pryin’ your dewy cunt apart. Mindlessly rutting- bucking- “Six hundred years and s’that all you can take, beloved?”

Clearly teasing, but the thought of taking all his barrelling shaft makes your back arch wildly. Whimpering after every smooch of his orbed piercing, “I-I can make all of that fit?”

“No.” Gojo snickers, but even that sounds unsteady. Even that sounded like it was on the very verge of shattering into a zillion pieces, and he’s only sinking a finger inside your pussy to stretch you out. To force his raging dick to break off from your clammy cunt to push and push. “But I will make it fit.”

And then it’s like you’re losing your mind- seeing white behind the lids of your eyes when he’s sinking in a few fat, heavy inches. 

Hissing underneath his breath, Gojo’s moving the hand at your hips over to your throat to pin you down. 

“C’mon-” Chortling, he uses it to keep you still as he ruts- “C’mon c’mon-” And ruts, burying your upper half into the couch cushion as he swerves his hips deeper. The stretch just vicious, your elastic entrance is being oh-so-tugged to his very size. “Acting like such a sinful girl– and you shall be dealt with as such. Now, open those legs wider, my darling.”

“Oh-oh, god- Satoru-”

Choking you, his big, beefy biceps flex once he’s pulling you down by your neck. Meaty thighs gluing flush against your own, his fangs peek in a grin. “Yes and yes.” 

Languidly, Gojo’s pumping himself deeper to fill out each slick ridge and orifice. Prince Albert’s piercing decorating the very line of his sensitive slit, he’s acting like it’s a spotlight to massage every spot inside of you.

 Letting the puffy entrance of your pussy stretch-stretch-streeeetching-

“F-fuck.” Gojo lets out, all of a sudden. Barely even audible over the resounding plop! that lets off from the damp space between your thighs when he’s finally - finally - bottoming out. 

Finally. 

And oh– it takes a few seconds to register inside your mind, did you just make the infamous Gojo Satoru stutter? Mewling in bewilderment, “D-did you just…did you just fit all- hck!”

He groans—“Sure did.” But there’s something dopey in his tone, something that sounds like utter fucking disbelief. Gojo rovers his hand over your plump cylindrical tummy bulge - he was so big that he could tap his thumb down on the hill of his cockhead poking through. “Fuck.”

Then it’s like the floodgates open. The floodgates shatter. 

Gojo’s fangs elongate, his eyes slit almost menacingly- and he’s throwing your boneless legs over his shoulder to push you down into the tightest possible mating press. 

A mating press.

Hand slamming down on the couch’s oak frame hard enough for it to splinter, “Fuck.” He’s croaking out like a broken record as soon as he’s gifting your goopy cunt with the first thrust. “Fuh-fuck.”

Then the second, the third, the fourth- smashing against that cute spongy cervix at the bottom of your pussy. Gojo rubs his swollen veins raw on the gummy texture of your walls, feeling a little part of his sanity crack each time.

“Oh my- ngh- fuuuuck, Satoru–” You’re wailing out whimpering, fingers valleying through the locks of his ivory hair and pulling. “It’s so big- h-hngh- how’s it even going in-” 

“If only your eyes may gaze upon what I can.” The edges of his blue eyes sizzle with power, and shit, he’s seeing right through your drooling cunt.

Using the lecherous advantage of his powers to swerve his hips just right, he knocks the flared end of his tip right at the target of your g-spot. Extra, extra blissful with the way his chilling piercing slips n’ snags just right across that particular orifice.

“Then you’d know that this is the only- ngh- heaven that a creature like I shall ever taste. The only heaven that I shall…fuck.”

Digits twitching on his clammy scalp, “O-oh.”

And you just look so pretty like this- lips sprayed with bubbles of drool, your eyes rolling cartoonishly every time he struck the bottom of your pussy, chest heaving. 

So Gojo can’t help but feel your gushing pussy clench ‘round his cock and gasp- and slouch. Maw sagging fully open, cross hitting your chest, he’s furrowing his brows down at you- yeah, the most beautiful thing he’s seen since he was turned six hundred years ago.

Letting go of teasing that tummy bulge, he holds your left hand - tenderly. 

And Gojo, for all his riches, might not have an engagement ring ready yet; which is why you’re feeling the cool slip of his purity ring make way onto your ring finger. Blinking dazedly, “C-can the Father even- ngh- propose?”

“For you? I’d burn down every soul, building, and flora upon this land.”

Dead serious.

Gojo tilts his flustered features down at you and asks one simple question, “Feel like flying?”

“Flying? What- oh, fuck!”

And he could fly, if he so wished to grow his wings- but what Gojo meant right now was to pick you up. Cleanly off the broken couch, he stands tall with only a singular inhuman hand supporting your weight. 

The other turning your head up to watch the twitches in your expression as gravity slides you doooown his aching cock. From the ruby-red globe of his crown to the wide circumference of his hilt, each squirm leaves his prominent veins grazing your walls sensually.

Your ass cheeks nuzzling his heavy balls, you whimper, “I-it’s in again?”

“Oh, beloved, it’s more than in…” Trailing off with a husky groan, Gojo leaves a wet, open-mouthed kiss on your lips that makes you whine. “-I don’t think m’gonna make it out of this with my life to spare.”

Oh.

Oh.

Then Gojo’s fucking you like he’s angry his thick, ravenous cock can’t delve deeper inside your pussy - just furious, slobbering strokes. 

He thwacks the curve of his ballsack against the front of your cunt and then hisses when it won’t go any further. Usin’ a firm grip on your ass to get you to arch even further, “More- come on. More, little human.”

Rolling your hips back with each hit after hit to your g-spot, he’d mapped you out perfectly at this point. Shaft just so extremely long that you were feeling it in your very lungs. 

“R-right there mmm–” Spittle pours from the edge of your mouth and lavishes Gojo’s deltoids, where you can only hold on for dear life. “Oh my god, Satoru-”

“You think your Lord’s lookin’ down at you right now, my angel?” Gojo has the audacity to giggle with his fanged canines - pussydrunk and gone once his hips only slam harder into yours. 

His golden crucifix repeatedly thumps your chest, and you can only watch when he drags up your ringed left hand right up to his mouth. Biting. “He can’t hear you-” Hard. “So maybe you should heh- scream louder.”

Louder and louder - your pitchy whines were utter music in Gojo’s blushing ears. 

By now reaching a fever point as you’re feeling the sensations in your legs go numb, head lolling stupidly-

“My, no ngh- sleeping yet, my darling.” And this position just left you so helpless, completely at Gojo’s mercy when he’s deciding to slip a free hand between your legs and pinch your perky clit. Brushing the calloused fringe of his thumb down where you were the most sensitive. “Not until I bite every inch of you.”

Oh…it just felt too good. Those slender fingers knew exactly what they were doing, targeting the most delicate spots of your nub, until you felt all raw. 

You babble at the carnal itch of his fingerpads rolling across your clit. Smearing the dewy droplets of slick that just kept on seeping out of you. “B-but I’m so- ngh- can feel it again, Satoru…”

“That so?” Absolutely no mercy. Gojo’s starting up a synchronization between his pre-glazed tip banging your g-spot, and the toying of your honeyed clit. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. “And yet…”

You’re shivering as he whispers in your ear, rasping. Dark. Something that makes your heart race and your cunt pound. “I will still fuck you until you can’t walk out the hah- steps of this very church.” 

Another dollop of buttery pre sprays along your cervix, another kiss of his frigid piercing glueing to your walls, and yet another twitch of your useless legs. “I will still make everyone see- make everyone know. But first…”

And you knew from that delicate dimple dotting the side of his grin that the next few words won’t bode well for you.

You knew you were done for just as soon as Gojo leans back from your haphazardly dangling body, ever-so-slightly. Eyeing down your front with his superhuman sight, he still bites down on your purity ring as he grins.

“-I wish to make a statement even the heavens shall know.”

And he can see. He knows exactly where his stirrin’ cock is heading for - right towards the bullseye of your womb. Thrashing- the only carnal sensation you register before it’s all white.

Both your bleary vision and the thick, copious clumps of cum that Gojo was filling you up with.

Both hitting your highs at once - so hard that his fangs shatter the deep purity ring on your finger. Though, never once leaving even a scar on you. 

“Oh, ya really are made for me.” Gojo gasps out a sharp pant, toned hips rutting so ferally upwards at the clenching squeeze of your heated insides. And oh- saying it was good would be an understatement.

The winding lines of his veiny cock dragged out your wave of bliss until you felt like your mind was melting. Bludgeoning his Prince Albert’s against your g-spot again and again and again at the precise peaks of your high.

You almost get the feeling that he’s milking himself on your overspilling cunt, twiddling a thumb over the button of your clit just to get you to clench. “H-heh-” Gojo watches as your creamy pussy driiiips with ivory syrup. “More more take more-”

You curl your toes in euphoria, dragging him into a filthy, filthy kiss. Slurring,“M-mmm- yes. I wanna-”

“Mhmmm–?”

“Hck! wanna be yours, Toru–”

Oh.

He had such a look on his face that told you he would just kill for you. Simply say the word. 

“M’already yours, beloved.” Gojo’s meaty thighs shiver after each stringy ribbon of sap being pumped into you, and he’s sliding a thumb all over the drivelling mess of your slit. Cooing as you flinch, “Oh, you’re so fuuuuck- ripe.”

Ripe? What did that even mean-

You didn’t need to utter the question, because he’s already answering it in the next sultry instant. 

You watch as he lovingly gazes at your tummy bulge, now stuffed with the weighty knots of his cum. There’s an almost tender note in his voice as he speaks, “Should you so wish, this one’s gonna be a ngh- boy.”

Oh.

Ripe for the picking, like a pomegranate.

Ripe for him to fuck you till you were all round and glowing- and it’s almost the two of you are moving at the speed of light. Gojo barely even taking a split-second to transport himself to the edge of his humble priest’s bed and bully you down.

Cock still buried deeply near your womb, he flattens the weeping head of his shaft against your cervix. Taking a loooong, languid glide of his pierced mushroom tip-

“Y-you’re still- ngh-” You hiccup, feeling the parched twitch of his length - still so red n’ swollen that it ached him to not be stuffed between your glossy folds. 

Sheathing himself in sluggish gyrations that stir your insides, Gojo’s tearing off the rest of his holy robes. From his cassock to his roman collar- and that twinkling golden cross ends up dropped somewhere on his dampening sheets. 

“Still hard? Heh-” Gojo snickers, oh, he’s going to have fun with you for the rest of eternity. “Now, you didn’t expect a vampire to stop at only one, did you, my angel?”

Fuck. 

.

.

.

And maybe it’s been hours. Maybe it’s been days.

All you’re learning is that a vampire goes for seconds, thirds, fourths- that Gojo Satoru won’t be even the slightest bit satisfied until he’s well past the sixth round. 

Your tired hips slumped on top of his now, riding him dry- well, as best as you could when your entire body was utterly helpless. At his mercy, he’s got his large hands clawing on your waist, moving you in steady figure-eight grins.

Long, achingly probing his sensitive divot into your battered and bruised delicate spots. So far gone that you could feel the slimy second skin of his cum from hours prior pool inside. 

Gojo slaps his hip bones up to yours and lets out what sounded like a damn broken whimper, “Yeah- yeah, if this isn’t the most heavenly thing- nghhh–”

“Oh-ohhhh my god—” You whimper, the cheeks of your ass stinging as he perks a hand underneath your thighs to slam you down. Crushing your overstimulated clit against his soaked happy trail, “The sun’s coming up, Toru.”

And sure enough, tentative yellow light was seeping between the half-shuttered blinds of Gojo’s quarters.

With it, a new day. And a new victim of the vampire to be discovered - of his. 

Though, that’s the last thing on your stupidly fuzzy mind when the thickened end of his thumb is coming down to draw out a cute lil’ heart on your clit. “S’that soo–? Heh-” He gulps from his completely dry throat, looking at you through unruly white bangs. “Better make this fast then, my darling.”

You had no idea where his stamina was coming from- even for a vampire this was ridiculous, surely.

At some point he was clinging onto your hips and maneuvering you up n’ down his vein-decorated cock as if it was nothing. 

Slight sparks of power flying from his half-lidded eyes every time he’s swirling and swirling his flinching cock ‘round your walls. Each semicircle of him stretching you out gets you rewarded with the slightest geyser of milky pre- damn near cumming dry.

“Oh.” Gojo’s nostrils flare, and his flushed maw hangs wide open with a sliver of spittle. Turning into a torrent of saliva once he’s hit with that familiar candied perfume of your orgasm.

Close-

Before you can even babble out the word, you’re cumming- and not just cumming, squirting. All over Gojo’s…face?

Fuck, your hands dig into the sweaty locks of his pale hair. Half-melted mind realizing that he’d transported you with his powers just as soon as you hit your high. Moving you from his jolting cock to seat all prettily on top of his face. 

Right on top for him to lavish his swollen mouth with the splosh of your velvety sap. Creaming all over his handsome features, leaving his lower and upper body soaked.

“Mmm- fuck.” He slaps his dewy-wet lips down your dripping wet cunt; simply drunken, Gojo lets the ribbons of your thick slick drench his sharp jawline. Puddle after puddle of cloying liquid that sprays across his mouth. A fucking mess. 

“A-men…” Cum and slick bubbling down his rosy mouth n’ fangs, he babbles. Catching sight of the bleeding orange of the sun rise, “Oh, it’s time.”

Time for him to lick up the last few tingles of your orgasm. Time for him to keep pinning you down to his face as he turns his head towards your thighs and bites.

Hard.

Puncturing.

And just as soon as the hot crimson of your blood leaks into his mouth, Gojo finds himself smiling. “May God never forgive me.”

A different kind of mark, the book had claimed. And sure enough your body flashes hot- something churning inside your blood vessels. Something that makes him tenderly flip the two of you over so that you can lay across the ruined sheets-

Only for him to take sweet, sweet advantage of the crook of your neck and bite. Once more. Then twice on the other side, just to make sure. Just because he couldn’t stop himself.

Six hundred years.

Six hundred years that he had been searching for you.

You’re wheezing out weakly, “Satoru…”

Now to finally, finally find you.

“Rest. The transformation from human to vampire is quite taxing.” Gojo hushes you, ivory lashes lowered in pure loving. He plants a kiss on the bloodied bite marks at your neck, fangs peeking out just enough to tease. “We have a long eternity together, my beloved.”

.

.

[Excerpt from ‘Scripture of Shadows’: Latest published edition, author unknown.]

‘Chapter Six: The Vampyre’s Beloved

Many are unaware of the one weakness of the vampyre: their one true love. Yes, reader, the fated mate, only poetically comparable to a ‘soulmate’, is one that can induce a different kind of bite in the blood-thirsty vampyre. 

It is an unexplainable soul tie that happens merely once in eternity - one that provokes even the most blasphemous creature of the vampyre to tear down heaven and hell. One such known vampyre in search was the famed Gojo Satoru, almighty of even these shadowed beings.

But through my journeys, I have found that our despicable being has come to find his fated mate, as of late. The latest whispers within the shadowed realm speak of an atypically happy life, and an even happier bride—expectably, leaving bloodied wedding favors behind.

Some even claim an heir of the Darkness to be within reach, God have mercy.

Six hundred years of terror, and it seems that He has found even the most undeserving worthy of being loved. Being seen. 

For, perhaps even the cruelest of creatures can love.

Amen.’

A/N. Omg y’all I had to get permission from like five of my Christian friends before I could post this erm- obvi disclaimer that this isn’t a true representation of Christianity!!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[wtfuckevenknows]

I fucking love this city and this airport

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price and Simon play kick about.

cw: hint of poly if you squint

The afternoon hung over RAF Akrotiri like a curtain, turning everything a hazy gold and stifling everyone on base with a sticky heat.

The airstrip shimmered in the distance, empty but for the low, hulking figure of a C-17 being prepped for refuelling. Near the hanger, Simon and Price had turned a tiny strip of cracked tarmac into a makeshift pitch, a well-loved ball between them; its once shiny surface worn down to the raw leather in some areas, its branding long since faded away.

They had stopped off halfway home. Nik's Black Hawk needed repairs and the station commander owed Price a favour or seven. With a few days down time and intel for their next move thin on the ground, the 141 had grown restless. Garrick and MacTavish had headed into town to enjoy the nightlife, leaving Simon and Price to their paperwork. Or so they thought.

Nik watched on from the top of an empty ammo crate, his heels drumming against the painted wood, a cold beer propped on his knee and a cigarette hovering over the other. Price tapped the football forward, a sly grin creeping across his flushed face. “C’mon then. Let’s see if yer more than jus’ pub talk.”

Simon rolled his shoulders and swaggering up with exaggerated nonchalance, his boots scuffing over the concrete. The smell of fuel and heat hung thickly in the air, and their t-shirts were stained a shade darker with sweat around their chests and under their arms. “Yer about to get a lesson straight outta Etihad.”

Price smirked. “Amateur then.” He tapped the ball forward, coaxing it ahead with the inside of his boot. Simon rushed him, but Price twisted, sliding the ball through his legs with a cheeky nutmeg. Simon let out a bark of laughter as Price darted around him, arms raised in triumph. “Oi! Be ‘avin’ it! Straight through the uprights.”

Simon snorted, dodging left and then right, trying to intercept. “Old dog’s got some tricks.”

Price laughed, rolling the ball around with his toe. “Textbook. One for the highlight reel.”

Simon lunged playfully, missing as Price danced the ball away with exaggerated flair, knees high, tongue out like a kid on a school playground. Dust kicked up as they darted to and fro, Price rolling the ball back and scooting it away from Simon's feet before moving forward into the open.

Price tried to keep control, dribbling the ball with fast, sharp taps, weaving through invisible defenders like he was playing at Anfield. His boots scuffed against the tarmac, grating through gravel with every pivot as he showed off to not only Simon, but Nik as well.

Simon closed in again, this time more measured, waiting for an opening. “Ya know ya’ve got the touch of a bin lid, right?”

“Jealousy’s an ugly emotion, Simon.” Price went for a stepover, but Sinon anticipated it, sweeping in with a low tackle that took the ball and half of Price’s pride along with it as he stumbled over Simon's leg.

Price threw his arms up and turned towards Nik. “Oi! Ref! That’s a red!”

Nik rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “You are not bleeding. That makes it a clean tackle, no?”

Simon scooted the ball away, cracked leather scraping over gravel, offering mock commentary as he urged the ball back in the opposite direction. “And Riley, against all odds, wins possession… Price is left wonderin’ where it all went wrong.”

Price barked another laugh and danced back, soon catching up. They scuffled, legs tangling in an illegal tackle that ended up with Simon's head in a lock under Price's arm, Simon trying to keep his feet on the ball but knocking it away instead. They ended up in a heap on the dusty concrete, cussing each other out through breathless laughter.

Price threw his hands behind him, legs stretched out. “‘M claimin’ victory.”

“Like shit you are. Play dirtier an’ you fight,” Simon said, kicking at one of Price's boots.

“Pullin’ rank. One nil t’ me.”

“Cheeky wanker…” Simon slumped onto his back, running his fingers beneath his balaclava to scratch at his jaw, skin prickling with sweat. When his hands returned to his chest, he gazed at the expanse of sky above, the darker blue of night time bleeding through the oranges and reds. “Mad, innit? Feel normal… jus' for a bit.”

Price hummed, and knocked his boot against Simon's again. “That a good fing?”

Simon sat up on his elbows and stared down the length of tarmac towards the buildings; hazy, uniform grey blocks fading in the twilight. He looked next at Nik. The pilot had shrugged his jacket off and was basking in the warmth, his head tilted back, aviators reflecting the ombre sky.

The three of them were lingering in a pause; a suspended moment in time where nothing mattered and the weight was gone. Simon looked back at Price and felt something warm and sweet tug in his chest. With his hair wild and auburn, his blue eyes bright, Price looked striking in the failing light. Simon couldn't help but savour the sight m. “Yeah,” Simon said finally. “Reckon it is.”

Price rolled to his feet, dusting off his backside with his palms. “Alright, one-nil to me. Winner stays on.”

Simon followed him, jogging over to retrieve the ball from where it had fallen into a pothole in the concrete. “You wish. Lookin’ a little tired there, old man.”

“Less lip more action.” Price gestured a come on with his fingers, feet spread, knees bent.

And just like that, the world paused again. They weren't lieutenant and captain, but, for another hour at least, they were just two northern lads playing kick about with a battered old pigskin.

[thehmn]

Pokémon Go can be such a good way to find interesting things to see in a new town. When I go on one of my random bike rides in the countryside I always look up the pokestops and gyms nearby. Yeah there’s a lot of playgrounds but also weird little things no respected tour guide would put on a map, like a fence painted to look like a dragon or a stone with beautiful ceramic birds glued on.

Got any other alternative ways of finding interesting things in a new town that doesn’t involve talking to the locals at the pub (I’m never staying THAT long)?

[castn0shadow]

the look of love

liam gallagher x fem!bassist!reader

simple, sweet, liam giving his ego up for you.

first fic on here, i am disgustingly tired and can’t think of any big fancy words so this isn’t creative at all.

It was something that took a while to become obvious. Just like how one day your hair got a little too long, and you realize it’s time for a cut. The sort of thing that you don’t think about everyday until it’s in your face.

That was how you and Liam came to be. One day he was the thing in your face. Everywhere. Marking your skin, pressing your brain until it was only full of him. The light he carried into every room he walked in started shining in your eyes, tripping you up with serene glare until you fell into him. And he didn’t let go.

It was unspoken to everyone. Even sometimes the two of you, you couldn’t recall when exactly everything happened. Maybe it was when you kissed him on the cheek, on the playground when you were 9, and him, 10— ‘to practice’. Or was it after Maine Road, when you and the rest of the band were all celebrating, walking down to a pub? How he suddenly grabbed your hand, not rough, but not shy. Confident. Like it didn’t mean much to him or you and you both knew it. Because it was just something that felt right and it didn’t need to be a thing.

Somewhere along the way, he’d be the one you’d gravitate to when everything was slow. He’d let you baby him and you’d let him sleep on your chest with no further comment. He’d tell Maggie, Oasis’s manager to start booking both of you one hotel room. Didn’t say why. Something taboo for you two to acknowledge, but too present to be undeniable and shoved aside.

Whichever way everything and nothing started, it was officially something finally accepted tonight.

Being the bassist of Oasis meant you were everywhere they were. You were a long time friend, sticking with all the boys for years. Being alive meant another day, another banging gig, another afterparty.

It usually went with the group sticking together at first, lingering in their superiority they couldn’t help but feel when they were all together. Because when you were all together you were praised just for knowing each other. For making the music you do. You were all one powerful entity.

And after a little while, everyone would split up and drift off to whatever meaningless fun they craved. For the boys, it was usually women and various buzzing drugs. Different at every party, nothing ever got old.

It was that time of night again. You were speaking to a stage tech you’d met earlier, whom you immediately hit it off with. You’d been previously traveling with the boys all morning, and she was the first girl to talk to you before showtime. You didn’t waste any time into chatting it up to invite her as your plus one for tonight. It didn’t matter, it’d been a long time since you actually took a guy romantically as a plus one. One day you just didn’t need to. Because he was always there.

“Seems someone’s got an eye for you.” She smirks, raising her eyebrows like she knows something you don’t, and side eyeing through the crowd to get you to look where she is.

“What?” You question, wondering if you’d have to deal with yet another unknown man thinking their superficial and borderline creepy charm and all too toothy grin will be just what ‘the girl from Oasis’ needs in her bed tonight.

You squint like it’ll help you at all, the crowds of people swaying and swishing in your eyes like waves through the dim regal purple and blues, making it difficult to find the culprit.

But then it catches you. One pair of many of Liam’s John Lennon-esque glasses he’d been acquiring by the dozen were just tilted below where they’d be if he were wearing them properly. You stare at him for a moment. Was it time to go already, was the band ready to head out? You knew the boys were unpredictable with their timing, either slumping over immediately after gigs or riding the white line until sunrise.

However, there’s no hand gesture signaling to get on. Just Liam looking. There was a girl talking to him, a tall blonde with a heavy looking face, babbling on as if Liam has shown her he’ll remember this conversation tomorrow.

Just as quickly as she alerts you about the eyes across the room, she disappears. You turn back around on the fancy barstool, shrugging and sipping your drink while waiting for another partygoer to attempt to entertain you for the night.

It’s only about thirty seconds until you hear the squeak of the top of the black barstool rotate, the scent of the person next to you immediately warming and rejuvenating your senses. If you had a choice to breathe something other than air, you’d choose this.

Your heart drops for some reason, you never got used to it, and you might never will.

“Blonde not doing you any favors?” You slickly remark, voice containing amusement— as well as confusion. Liam never came to join you at parties. The band always came together, but separate. Only meeting when it was time to go, or when it was time to take Liam to go.

You were only joking about the blonde anyway. It was never a said thing, but some day, Liam just stopped picking up girls, stopped trying to win a new one each night, stopped taking them to find empty bathrooms. It had been a couple months so far.

“Nah. Never as good as you could ever do me.” He shrugs, sliding your drink closer to him to take a swig. He swishes it side to side once each, bopping his head as if he’s contemplating spitting it out. Or spitting something else out.

“What’s this?” You beat, Liam never hung out with you at these type of things. You all typically strayed away from each other. Too much time with your bandmates wasn’t good for any of you. Especially between Liam and Noel.

“Fuckin’— ‘what’s this’. Nowt. Just like ya’.” He spits quickly, like he’s offended by you even asking. You open your mouth to say something, but you don’t have anything to work off of. Thankfully, he does something to distract from the silence that was bound to occur if he just left it at that.

He takes another swig of your drink, not caring it’s yours. You weren’t drinking it much anyway. Even so, he’d buy you a million glasses of it if you asked. This sip though, seemed to be needed to get him to relax himself with whatever it was he was thinking.

“Just like bein’ around ya’. Don’t wanna leave ya’ alone. Can’t stand it.” He quickly admits, like it’s something in his throat— it physically hurts to say, and he has to get it out. This one didn’t come out as easily as the first thing he said. His grin dropped completely, and his throat cleared.

Liam already knew it was too late. He was babbling now, and if he stopped it’d be too soon. He might as well get it all out.

He was always someone to keep up his swagger during parties, never submitting or caving for anyone. The people come to him. Never the other way.

“Fuckin’ hell. Guess I love ya.” He speaks with a sense of clarity, like he was just realizing this for the first time.

That one sentence meant more than the last three months did all together. The word love now placed itself in every intimate memory you’ve ever shared with him. The core of everything.

Liam was giving up his pride, he’d connected the words with was what had been in his hands for a while. His scene was no longer with names of people he’ll forget by the time his head hits the pillow, but with yours. You were his scene.

You’d wished so badly you weren’t sitting on grounded barstools, all you wanted was to feel some part of him touching you.

You realized this was the night. No more blurred lines, no ignoring the root of you both. Love.

“I like being around you too. And love you, I guess.” You tried to make it sound silly, but you just couldn’t. It came out shy and hesitant, you couldn’t think of anything else to say but the same thing back.

Liam had been looking at you the entire time, contrasting to how you were paying attention to how terribly interesting the grainy wooden counter could be.

He nods, like he expected it from you. In reality he was fucking terrified after his confident delivery that he messed everything up.

“Jesus Christ. Don’t wait to say something for so long next time. Had me nerves going.” He scoffs, lips curling up at your delivery. That was probably the closest you’ve seen Liam actually going to take back something he said.

You made your way out shortly after, his large hand grabbing yours just like it did after Maine Road. He didn’t let go until you two made it back to the hotel so he could hold all of you properly. Like a proper couple.

From that night onward, Liam was exclusively tied to your side at not just parties, but everywhere. The stage order changed, and you were moved to be closer to him. When he and Noel fought, he would have a seperate room to cool off in that no one was allowed in. That changed to only you being allowed in. Your drinks automatically went on his bill, he had his own clothing drawer at your place, and he specifically stocked up on snacks he knew you liked, and won’t allow anyone else to touch them.

Nothing more had to be said. All you two knew was that night something changed. No more tiptoeing around the heart of you both.

[tophat-69]

A genuine question: We’ve never seen Silco drunk or high, have we?

I know that it’s a popular headcanon, but is there something in canon itself that I’m missing?

I know that we’ve seen him use Shimmer on his eye for medicinal purposes, but were never shown any signs of it being recreational or ‘dipping into his own stash’ even at times when he COULD have hulked out on it. He’s regimented, with a routine and microdosing that never shows enhancement or augmentation outside of what he needs for his eye. He would rather wait and be late on his dose so that Jinx could administer it than rushing it because he was craving it.

And frankly, he doesn’t even cuss around Jinx, doesn’t let her drink, only had her injected with Shimmer when it was literally all he could do to save her. I don’t think she’d be who he had shooting him up if he were actually using it recreationally. It’s a responsibility he’s given her.

We’ve seen him with a drink, but the man was sitting at a bar with a cup of coffee and soup until it was a celebration and Vander poured for him. Yes, he carries a flask and has a cup on the table, but we never see him actually drunk. And frankly a flask is probably safer since we know (and HE knows) for a fact that his own uneasy allies are trying to kill him to usurp him.

And yes, he turned The Last Drop into a nightclub, but he’s always above it not down in it and overall he’s been a pretty reclusive man. He basically inherited/stole the bar and was running a criminal enterprise out of it which centers around a street drug. Easier to deal out of a nightclub than a pub. Plus, The Last Drop as it WAS clearly held some memories he was separating himself from because they were those of the man he was BEFORE.

I enjoy all of the stories about him, and we all have our headcanons because they’ve given us SO MUCH playground of time and space to build him in.

But am I missing something?

[sinner-as-saint]

I loved you in secret

Mob!Bucky x Detective!Reader 

Run-through: Your relationship with Bucky was the kind of dangerous secret that could destroy you. But you couldn’t let him go either, he was too addicting. And neither was he willing to let you go, despite all the risks. The city was his playground, and this game of hide and seek you both played was his favourite. 

Themes: mob!bucky, smut, fluff, detective!reader, metal arm, 

a/n: I missed writing and I missed mob!bucky so here’s a little fic for you ily guys so much muaaahhh

You were immediately on high alert as you left the pub. 

The team was celebrating a big case finally getting solved, so a few rounds of drinks was mandatory. But you left just after the second round of drinks because you wanted nothing more than to just get home and take a nice, long bath. 

Your apartment complex was a 20-minute walk away from the pub, and the precinct. And the thought of a warm bath made you walk faster through the city. 

But you being on high alert meant that something wasn’t right. Your gut was telling you something but you couldn’t figure out what. 

Right as you passed a dark alley, a hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into the alley and pressing you against the wall. A cold hand covered your mouth, muffling your scream. You were ready to kick and fight your way out of the man’s tight grip, but that was until you realised who it was, and sagged in relief. 

Bucky chuckled, removing his metal hand and uncovering your mouth to let you breathe properly. “Hi babygirl,” He nuzzled your neck as you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, “Missed me?” 

His soft lips brushed against your skin as he left kisses all over your neck. “Bucky!” You whisper-yelled. “You can’t just be here, you know that. We talked about this, you can’t be anywhere near this area.” You tried reasoning, but you couldn’t help the gasps and moans that left your mouth as Bucky’s kisses got more and more bitey. 

“I know, I know,” He sighed, pulling away to look at you. His handsome face was partially hidden in the shadows, only one of his piercing blue eyes was visible and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, despite knowing that if anyone saw you here in his arms, your career was over instantly. “I needed to see you. I missed you, baby. I was away all week, I couldn’t just sit at home and wait for you, you know?” 

You rolled your eyes, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his. You breathed in his scent and it helped you calm down a little bit. “I know,” You whispered. “You’ve been following me all night, haven’t you?” You asked, already knowing he was what your gut was trying to tell you about. 

Bucky smirked, kissing your forehead. “I have. Ever since you left work.” He kissed down your face, along your jaw. “I couldn’t resist,” He whispered, “You know how much I like watching you walk around in your suits,” He chuckled into your ear, hands dropping down to grab your butt for emphasis. “Now, can we go home so I can take it off of you?” 

As much as you wanted to go with him right away you said, “You go ahead. I have some stuff I need to grab from my place and then I’ll see you at yours, okay?” You cupped his face as you spoke. He gave you his rare puppy eyes, then groaned. 

“Fine. I'll send a car for you. I want you home in less than an hour.” He whispered, playfully biting your lip. “You hear me, detective?” He teased, “Less than one hour.” He repeated. 

Everytime he referred to his place as ‘home’, your heart skipped a beat. You smirked, “Yes, sir.” You replied, winking as you pulled away to walk home as fast as you could. “Now get out of here before you get us both in trouble.” 

—

As you walked to your apartment, you knew an all black, heavily tinted SUV was following you from a distance. It would’ve freaked you out if you didn’t know that there were just a few of Bucky’s men in the vehicle, ordered to ensure you make it to your apartment safe. 

You smiled to yourself as you took the elevator to your floor. Already making a mental list of all the things you needed to pack for the weekend that you would be spending with Bucky. He was gone for the whole week for some ‘work thing’ and you had missed him so much. 

You and Bucky couldn’t text or call like normal couples, because the risk of getting caught was too high that way. If any one of his associates or allies found out, you could be in terrible danger. And if any one of your colleagues ever found out, you were done for. So it could only be brief late night phone calls, or messages only a few times in a day. 

As you packed, you thought of the day you met Bucky. 

A little over a year ago, you were undercover in an infamous club in the more corrupted part of the city. That’s when you caught Bucky’s eye. He walked over to you, flirting shamelessly, constantly asking if he could buy you a drink, asking you to dance, and whatnot. 

You had taken your gun out then, and had discreetly pressed it against his side. ‘Leave me alone, or I’ll shoot.’ Bucky had chuckled in that proud way of his, and pulled you closer. ‘You don’t wanna do that, detective. Now leave before I set my guys after you.’ 

He had known you were a cop in an instant, but he played along. 

‘You could always do that, even if I leave. Why would I trust you?’ You’d asked. 

He had given you that devilishly handsome smile of his and said, ‘You don’t have a choice, detective. There’s a car waiting for you outside, get it in and go where it takes you. I’ll join you in a while.’ 

For some reason you had done as he asked, and that’s how you woke up in his bed the next morning after the best night of your life. 

And since then, the two of you couldn’t walk away from one another. Your little risky situationship had turned into something so much stronger over the past year, and now you couldn’t imagine life without him. 

—

A car was waiting for you downstairs, as always. You got in with your bags and couldn’t wait to get to Bucky’s place. Home, as he called it. 

Bucky’s mansion was found on the outskirts of the city, hidden within the rather dense and heavily secured forest. Very few people had access to this place. It felt like it was another world, cut off from the rest. Quiet, luxurious, and private. 

The moment you walked in through the huge front doors, you were ambushed. By a pair of muscular arms, and an eager mouth. His relentless kisses had you giggling as you tried to maintain your balance. 

“Bucky!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Fuck,” He growled, hugging you so tightly it hurt. “I missed having you in my arms, detective, you know that?” 

You tried to pull away to breathe but he wouldn’t let you. His metal arm tightening extra hard around you. “I’m gonna pass out if you don’t let me go.” You choked out through giggles.  

Bucky pulled away, laughing as he grabbed your hand and led you towards the giant staircase. “Come on, we have so much catching up to do.” 

— 

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom before Bucky got handsy. He pushed you up against the nearest wall and undid the buttons of your shirt 

“I missed you, babygirl…” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you hard. His hands slid your shirt down your shoulders, dropping it on the ground before he began undoing your pants as well. “I need you,” He breathed. 

“Bed,” Was all you could mumble in your lust-drunk haze. 

Bucky dragged you to his bedroom, stopping a few times on your way there to kiss you or get rid of an article of clothing. 

By the time you both made it to his large bed, you were both naked and starved for one another. 

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered as he laid you down on his bed, hovering above you. “Look at you…” he leaned down to kiss your neck, “You’re fucking perfect, aren’t you, babygirl?” 

You arched your back, pressing up against him and he nibbled on your skin before pulling away to look down at you. His stare was intense, fiery, eyes darkening with lust. His voice was deeper than usual as he said, “I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled up at him, running your hands all over his back, shoulders, fingers running through his hair. You were starving, breathless, and trapped between his strong body. “And I love you, Buck.” 

He leaned down again, kissing you even more ferociously. “I’ve been dreaming of having you here with me, in my bed. Do you know how hard it is to be away from you?” He kissed along your jaw, “It drives me fucking insane.” 

His mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts and briefly sucking on them, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs until he knelt in between your bare legs and stared down at you.

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare, burning with desire. You smirked as you held his feral stare. “Go on then, what are you waiting for?” 

Bucky held your stare as he chuckled, leaning down to trail his lips up to your inner thighs then placed his hands on both your thighs and spread your legs further apart. “So bossy, detective…” He whispered quietly under his breath as he held your gaze. 

Your wetness slowly dripped out of you as he kissed you everywhere except for where you needed him the most. You were whining and squirming under him but he acted like he was suddenly in no rush. 

“Do you know how desperately I’ve wanted this?” He spoke, lips brushing against your heated skin. Then he scoffed, “I bet no one even knows how wet and needy you get for the bad guy, huh?” He taunted, “I bet no one knows how pretty the little detective looks when she begs the wanted criminal to fuck her harder and deeper.” He spoke and each warm breath of his made you whine and squirm even more as he held you there, open for him. 

His words gave you butterflies in your stomach, made you clench hard around nothing. 

“Bucky, please… I need you.” You whispered, your voice barely audible to yourself with how loud your heartbeats echoed in your ears. 

“Beg.” He said. “Beg me to touch you. Come on, babygirl. Beg for my tongue.” 

You whined. “Bucky please… It’s been so long, please. I need you,” You whispered. “I need your tongue, baby, please.” 

Bucky smirked upon hearing the desperation in your voice. “Good girl.” He quickly pressed his lips to your inner thigh again, his mouth getting closer and closer to your dripping core. 

You tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against your wet folds. Your body shivered and squirmed. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft hair, which only made him groan even louder. 

You couldn’t help but moan shamelessly as he brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you squirm in pleasure. His tongue slid up and down your folds, teasing your entrance, occasionally flicking your clit. “Best thing I’ve ever fucking tasted,” He whispered. 

You tugged gently at his hair causing him to growl against your skin in response. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must be coating his entire mouth and lips by now. 

“So fucking delicious…” Bucky whispered, as he kept making you moan louder and louder with his tongue. He parted your legs further as far as they would go as he slowly brought a metal finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds.

You shivered under his cold touch, then bit your lip to refrain from moaning too loudly. “Oh Bucky…” You sighed, then gasped audibly as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit. “Please…” You begged, wanting more. 

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” He asked, and chuckled when you were only able to moan in response. Lips brushing against your wetness he asked again, “Does it, baby? Hmm? Did your fingers feel this good when you touched yourself while I was away?” He growled as you kept whining and squirming under his addicting touch, “Answer me.” 

“No…” You gasped. “No, it didn’t feel this good.” You whispered, breathless and wanting. “Bucky please…” You moaned. “Stop teasing me.” You said, looking down at him. 

He gave you a cocky smirk. “You’re mine. I’ll tease you if I want to.” 

You whined again, “Baby, please…” 

His ocean blue eyes watched you as you lost control under his touch, whimpering and legs shaking as he teased your clit with his tongue and finger-fucked you. “You look so beautiful like this, you know that?” 

You squirmed and gasped under his addictive touch. “Bucky…” You moaned out loud, your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. 

You came hard, all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. You tugged harder at his hair as you came, gasping for air as you came down from the high.

A faint giggle escaped your lips as Bucky left small kisses up your body until he hovered above you again. He stared deep into your eyes. “I love you,” He said. 

“And I you.” You wanted him so bad it hurt. “Please, Buck…” You begged. “No more teasing, please.” 

Bucky’s smile was genuine as he said, “Okay, babygirl. Whatever you want.” He leaned in to kiss you again. You moaned into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue. 

You kept waiting for more, but Bucky wasn’t quite done kissing you yet. So you scratched down his back, frustrated as you pulled away and demanded, “Will you fuck me already?!” 

Bucky laughed at your little outburst, “Well spread your legs then,” He smirked when you obeyed instantly. He held your stare as he slowly slid inside of you, both of you grunting softly as he went. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He whispered, nothing but desire and love in his eyes. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “How the fuck did I survive without this for a whole damn week?” 

You felt his cock stretching you, filling you up. Every thick inch of him sliding into your tight cunt. “I don’t know how I survived without you either, baby.” You gasped. “You… you feel so good.” You could feel your eyes tearing up at how snug he felt inside you. 

Bucky pulled away to watch you, “I don’t care, I’m bringing you with me wherever I go from now on.” He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He looked down to where your bodies connected, quickly spitting right on your clit, his metal thumb spreading the wetness around as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss, swallowing your desperate moan in the process. 

You couldn’t help your loud moans as he moved his hips the slightest bit. He said, “I forgot how good you looked with my cock buried deep inside you, babygirl.” Bucky pulled away and watched you as you whined at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. The problems of real life didn’t matter anymore. 

“You feel so good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, his metal hand wrapping around your throat as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “So perfect for me.” 

You moaned at how perfect his hard, muscular, tatted and slightly scarred body felt against yours, his weight pressing down on you. His slight stubble tickled your skin as he moved.

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body, tight and hot.

Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at me, babygirl.” When you did, he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.” 

You nodded. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. Normally the idea of anyone claiming they owned you would’ve pissed you off. But damn, he made it sound so hot. 

He gave you a lazy smile, “Are you gonna come for me now?” His metal hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little detective. Look at you, all cock drunk and still wanting more…” He scoffed, giving you a messy kiss. “Come all over my cock, come on. Be a good girl and come.” 

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his hand let go of your throat and his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

Bucky loved that look on your face, that look of utter bliss, pain, pleasure, lust and hunger all at once.

“That’s it, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, look at you. Now come, come all over me,” He whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him. 

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. 

“Fuck, baby…” He watched you, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. “I need you again.” He said, crazed with hunger for more. 

He pulled out, his cock still achingly hard. “Already?” You squealed as he flipped you around – your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the pillows. You were still catching your breath when his metal hand teased you in between your legs, his cold fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble. “Ah,” You moaned due to the sensitivity. “Be gentle.” Your voice sounded muffled because of the pillows. 

His body bent over yours, his warm chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I love you, but don’t you fucking dare tell me how to fuck you,” He said, softly but you could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, now growly voice. 

“Buck…” You whined, “I’m gonna be so sore.” 

“Good.” He licked along your neck and said, “I want you to feel me all day tomorrow.” He playfully bit down on your shoulder and you let out a loud moan. He chuckled at the sound of it.

You whimpered, “You always do this.” You murmured, voice laced with need and lust as he pulled away from your ear and kissed along your shoulders.

“Hmm. And you like it.” 

You felt his hands on you, warm and cold, as he gripped each side of your hips then pushed into you from behind. Slow and deliberate strokes, until he slid inside you fully.

Bucky groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely all over again, and moved in and out of you hard and deep, desperately trying to make both of you come this time. 

Your fingers gripped the cool, satin sheets beneath you tightly, and your mind was all foggy, and you moaned wantonly as he pounded into you from behind, not once slowing down. 

His metal hand grabbed you by the back of your neck, using that grip to create a delightful momentum that had you tearing up again. “Fuck,” He growled, “Remind me to use a plug on you next time. Your other hole is looking pretty empty.” 

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your mouth. “You can be so fucking filthy sometimes.” You said, whimpering just at the thought of being filled like that. 

Bucky chuckled, not stopping. “You love me.” He said. All true. 

Your walls throbbed and clenched around him each time he filled you up, as he took you higher and higher all over again. 

“Fuck, babygirl.” He hissed. “I’m gonna come deep inside you.” You felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls violently. “Come for me again.” He hissed again, then groaned as you tightened around him – coming undone again. 

Bucky growled as he buried his cock deep inside you, coming undone inside you like he promised. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, feeling some of his cum drip down your thighs. 

“Fuck…” You whined, feeling your tears wet the pillow beneath you as you caught your breath. 

“Oh babygirl,” He whispered as pulled out and he laid down beside you, pulling you into him for a cuddle. “I’ll clean you up in a bit, okay? I just need to hold you for a while.” He said, kissing all over your face. “Fuck, I love you.” 

You sighed in bliss, still trying to calm your racing heart. “I love you more.” You whispered. 

—

“So,” You spoke, putting another piece of fruit in your mouth as the two of you laid in bed in your robes. You were both too lazy to put on clothes after showering so here you were now, lounging in bed in your robes, with food and wine. “How was work?” You asked, “What did you do all week?” 

“Apart from missing you like a lovesick madman?” Bucky smiled, placing his empty wine glass on the bedside table. “I made more money for you to spend.” He said with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Meanwhile I had to pretend I was closer to putting some of your guys in jail. They just happened to be faster than me so I very conveniently lost them in a car chase. On an empty road.” 

Bucky smirked, “You’re the best, baby.” 

You threw a napkin at him. “I’m gonna lose my job one of these days because of you, I can feel it.” You taunted playfully. 

He scoffed. “Well good, we can finally move to the island once you do.” 

“There you go again,” You rolled your eyes again. 

Him and that island – the small private island he owned and on which he planned to spend the rest of his life with you. He was obsessed with the idea of the two of you living there and calling it home, cut off from the rest of the world. Honestly, you didn’t hate the idea. 

Bucky turned to face you, placing a gentle hand on your exposed knee. “Baby, we talked about this.” He reasoned. “At some point we’ll have to move. There’s no place for us here.” He added. 

You knew what he meant. You knew he was right. But then there were other factors to consider. “Buck… what will I even do there?” 

Bucky sighed, grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him. You straddled him with a coy smile as he lazily caressed your thigh while he spoke. “You can do anything. Everything. You won’t even have to work, I’ll take care of you. You know that, babygirl.” 

You chuckled, cupping his face and giving him a loud kiss on the lips. “So you want me to leave my entire life behind, move to a private island with you and do what? Twirl around in a pretty dress all day? While you work your ass off?” 

He smirked, “I quite like the thought of that actually.” 

You smacked him on the chest. “I’m serious, Buck.” 

“So am I.” He argued. “Look, I’ve been carrying an engagement ring around for more than six months now. But I don’t want to force you into doing anything. We can wait, I’ll wait for you. Just know that this is gonna happen sooner or later. Us, the island, our future together. It’s happening and you can’t stop it.” He then squinted at you, “Why aren’t you surprised concerning the ring?” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You keep it in the drawers of your bedside table. It’s not exactly a secret spot to hide an engagement ring that big.” You teased. 

Bucky smirked then pushed you down on the bed, getting on top of you again. Your robes untied in the process. You squealed and laughed as he tickled you incessantly. “That damn smart mouth of yours.” He growled, leaning in to kiss your face. “If you knew about the ring, why didn’t you bring it up? Hmm? Why haven’t you said yes to marrying me yet?” He nuzzled your neck, biting down on your shoulder. 

“Ow!” You hissed in pain, then giggled as he kissed it better. “Because you haven’t proposed to me properly.” 

“I don’t have to” He mumbled, kissing down your neck. “You’re marrying me and that’s it.” 

You scoffed. “So fucking controlling.” You teased him, your back already arching beneath him as his kisses got more and more steamy. 

He pulled away to look down at you, his chain dangling from his neck right above your face, tickling your skin. Suddenly you wanted to live in this moment forever. Safe, warm, under him. This was your favourite place in the whole world. 

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with a criminal if you didn’t want a controlling man, detective.” He slapped your thigh, making you yelp in surprise. “And don’t pretend as if you don’t like me like this.” He sounded just as cocky as he did the day you met him. 

You sighed. “Unfortunately I do.” You pulled him closer and kissed him. A soft, gentle kiss as he pressed his entire body weight down on you. “And yes, I will marry you. Eventually.” You whispered through the kiss. 

He smiled against your lips, “Good.” 

“Not right away though,” You said, “I still have many bad guys to catch.” 

He chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m so in love with you.” 

[astra-ravana]

Getting Dirty

According to stone tape theory the soil, stone, and wood around us preserve an imprint of our history, a record of sorts. Soil is important, it holds the residual energy of a place and preserves it forever. Practitioners can tap into the qualities of various types of dirt to integrate those energies into their work. The different types of magickal soil are as follows:

Crossroads Dirt: Decision making, road opening, luck, success, opportunity, opens doors to other realms, offering to Hekate and other crossroads deities

Highway/Railroad Dirt: Movement, relocation, travel, speeds up any working

Cemetery/Graveyard Dirt: Healing, protection, prosperity,luck, love, baneful workings, assistance from the dead, offering to death deities

Backyard Dirt: Purification, protection, peace, workings with/for the home/family, traditionally collected from the four corners of the yard

Enemies House Dirt: Hatred, animosity, revenge, conflict, used in baneful casting

Bank Dirt: Drawing money, prosperity, good fortune, good luck, security, used in mojo bags

Hospital Dirt: Healing, health, and  recovery as well as sickness, injury, and illness. Intent is everything.

Casino Dirt: Good luck, chance, change in circumstances, chaos, loss, ruin, intent matters

Bar/Pub Dirt: Confusion, delirium, accidents, distraction, fun, chaos, seduction, short term

Schoolyard/Playground Dirt: New beginnings, joy, optimism, playfulness, protection of children

University Campus Dirt: Knowledge, memory, intellect, intelligence, wisdom, higher consciousness

Market Dirt: Business, income, networking, wealth, community, communication, commerce

Banquet Hall Dirt: Celebration, love, communication, togetherness

Forest Dirt: Nature, balance, abundance, peace, serenity, the element of Earth, offering to nature deities like Cernunnos or Pan

Courthouse Dirt: Justice, legal issues, cases resolve in your favor, binding, banishing, punishment

Prison/Jail Dirt: Imprisonment, entrapment, restraint, binding, banishing, punishment

Murder Scene Dirt: Death, destruction, devastation, used in the most potent and wicked curses and baneful workings

[the-kr8tor]

For my second potion can I please get cardamom in ❣️bottle of r and hobie hanging out at the park and messing around on the equipment? i think it would be really funny because most of the equipment is kid sized and hes so tall 🤣🤣

🕊️anon

I've been giggling at this request for so long because I keep imagining him playing on the tiny playground 😂 thank you for the adorable request! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, fluff!

Navigation

One year celebration 🎉

“Hobie, you're too tall!” Your guffaw echoes around the empty playground as the night air breezes by and flutters your lashes. You watch him with fond eyes, smiling widely at his antics that's half fueled by the cold pint he had at the pub.

The swings under you squeeks as he runs towards the slide meant for toddlers. You already know what he's about to do. The whole scene reminds you of your childhood days playing in the playground with a friend you just gotten to know and will probably never see again after the fateful playdate. This time though, your playdate is your actual date, one who you share your life with, and who's currently racing to make you laugh with his shenanigans.

“No, ‘m not!” Hobie says while climbing up towards the slide and not climbing behind it on the ladder like a normal person would.

“You're gonna slip and fall on your ass!”

“I'll be fine—” his boots skids on the metal slide and he falls face first on it with a thud. His whole body fits perfectly well in the slide while his arms are tucked on each side. Whole body frozen and the lack of laughter from him has you genuinely worried.

“Oh shit!” You cross the distance to check on him, his body is still, face squished on the metal. He's planking on the slide, and the only indication that he's still conscious is the muffled groan he let out. With a palm on his back you coo at him softly. “C’mon, you big baby, let me see.”

With a pat on his back, he rises up to his elbows and faces you. His nose is bleeding, not too much, just a tiny drop while he frowns at you like you didn't buy him ice cream. Brows furrowed, he wobbles his pierced lips for added effect.

“Lovie…”

“Oh, Hobie.” Your teasing is tossed away as you gaze at him softly, palm cupping his cheek gently and careful not to touch his injury. “Are you okay?”

“You told me so.” He pouts and sniffs, immediately wincing. “Fuckin' hell.”

“Come on, let's go home and put some ice on your nose.” It doesn't seem broken as you warm him with your touch. If only your hands could heal his aching nose.

“I don't want to go home yet…” Hobie sits up fully, unable to slide down due to him being the same height as the slide under him. “They should make an adult playground.”

“That's a million pound idea, Hobie. But maybe change the name a bit since it's… y’know.” You rub his back affectionately while you wipe the speck of blood on his nose with your sleeve. He gazes at you with love, fingers looped around your belt loops as he sighs.

There's a twinkle in his eye. “Don't have a scooby doo what you mean, love.”

“I mean, ‘adult playground.’” You make air quotes around the word. “There's gotta be a shop named like that in downtown.”

“Why, you've been there?” A smirk appears on his lips as he leans on the slide.

“Don't make me push you, Hobie.” You say through chuckles.

He raises his arms up, smiling lopsided at you. “Please do, lovie.”

Instead, you take the opportunity to poke his side, making him flinch and bring down his arms. “Come on, it's getting cold out here.”

“We haven't tried the roundabout yet.” He flashes his puppy dog eyes at you, and it's super effective as you groan and yank him up to his feet.

“Just don't make it go around too fast, I'll fall!” You relent and he smiles and hugs you with a hefty kiss on your cheek.

It's safe to say that you two went home with a few scratches on your arms and gashes on his knees as the equipment flung the both of you towards the gravel. But you two had fun, and he had his ice cream to quell the aches.

[flotheory]

1000 subscribers gift

🎁

NPC spawner mod!

Do you ever need more randomly generated NPCs at the pub, the summer festival, the kids playground?

This mod will bring a newly generated sim to a lot by clicking "Meet" on the following objects:

- kids playground object (if actor is a child)

- professional bar

- university BaristaBar

- festival FoodStand

- resort front desk

Download

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Hi, here's a prompt: the first time Aaron meets Seb again (your choice whether robron are back together at that point)

He and John are in the shop when he sees him. His husband is deliberating over what kind of toothpaste to buy, as if they didn't all do the same job.

"Right, you can pick one bag of sweets, ok?" He hears Robert say and he presumes he's with Harry and he turns back to John to see if he's made any kind of decision. He loves the man but no one should spend this much time on toothpaste.

"Can we go to the swings Daddy? Harry told me the slide is awesome." He's sure his heart skips more than one beat at the high pitched voice.

Daddy.

Seb.

He turns round so fast he knocks the basket out of John's hand and he hurriedly starts picking up what's fallen out, eyes not moving from the little boy. Now he's looking he can see he's taller than Harry, the once reddish tinged hair now all blonde. He looks just like Robert in the photos that cover Vic's walls.

"Once you've picked your sweets yes. Just for a bit. Auntie Vic is cooking and your old Dad's not brave enough to be late for that."

He needs to get out of here. It's not as if he's not wondered if Seb would come back to the village, but it's been months so he'd assumed Robert hadn't wanted to uproot him after everything he'd been through.

"Aaron? Are you listening to me? I said are you ready?"

"Yeah." He drags his eyes away from the pair of them, both concentrating on the selection of sweets on the other side of the shop.

He tells John he's going for a pint, knows he won't join him, one of his medical things is on telly and Aaron can't stand them so he waves him off with a kiss. He's almost halfway up the hill when he hears the shout and he turns to see Seb hurtling up the road completely ignoring the car that's heading towards him.

He doesn't think, just runs and grabs him, pulling him towards the safety of Nicola and Jimmy's garden, heart beating out of his chest, and the next thing he hears is running footsteps.

"Seb!"

"He's fine." He puts the little boy down, watches as he runs to Robert and hugs him, obviously scared. Whether that's from the car or the strange person grabbing him he's not sure. "Robert, he's fine."

"You can't do that mate. You have to watch for cars, ok? Your Dad's too young for a heart attack yeah?" Robert just keeps holding him close, and Aaron should go, he knows he should, but he can't move.

"Sorry Daddy."

"Aaron...thank you." Robert sounds shaken and he's as white as a sheet when he lets himself look up. Seb's still clinging to him. "Hey mate, you go to aunty Vic's ok? We'll go to the playground tomorrow instead ok?" Seb nods and wanders up the road, the pair of them not taking their eyes off him until he's safely in her front door.

"I, er, I didn't know he was with you."

"I wasn't sure, thought he'd been through enough upheaval, but Vic kept on at me to visit. As soon as I saw him...he just ran to me Aaron. I thought he'd forget."

"Don't be daft. You're his Dad."

"Even so...what have I got to offer him? I live with my sister, barely got a job and just out of prison."

"You love him Robert. That's all he needs. You and I both know that's the most important thing. The rest can be sorted out." He looks over at the pub. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, he just scared me." He hesitates, looking past him for a second. "You know, he still remembers you. I mean I don't think he recognises you but he still remembers Aaron who used to read him stories."

"I..." He doesn't know what to say, because he was never anything proper to Seb, not really, however much Robert tried,, he'd had no hold over him and he'd been ripped away just like everything else. He'd had to bury it, the love he'd had for the cheeky little boy. "I should go."

"Aaron...if you want to see him...I know John probably won't like it, but if you do, then all you have to do is say so."

"I don't know Robert. I mean it's Seb and he's no doubt brilliant, but it hurt, and we've all moved on now. Maybe it's best to not confuse him."

"Well, the offers there..."

"Yeah. I'll see you then." He goes before he gives in and all but runs into Vic's.

He doesn't know what's stopping him though. Robert's right, John wouldn't like it, but then he doesn't seem to like much at all lately. It's not like he hasn't thought about it, going back to Robert, some days it's all he thinks about. The thing is he's scared. Scared that it'll alll disappear again and he knows he won't survive it a second time. A part of him has been waiting for Robert to leave. But now, Seb is here and Robert obviously wants to get settled back into the village

So the question is, what's stopping him from ending things with John. Now Robert's back he sees just how much he's settling with him. He hadn't seen it before, had been happy to be settled and normal for a change, but lately it's been like there's something missing.

He needs a drink, and then he needs to talk to his husband.

[gabessquishytum]

Everyone knows Dream d'Endless - the seemingly indentured servitude to the Burgess dance troupe; the ESCAPE; the flame outs with an increasing number of duet partners; the personal dance company that puts on rare wildly successful & beautiful, but gorilla performances, that are only publicized by word of mouth (or pager?!?) & don't generally have tickets to them ..... Well, everyone in the dance world knows him, and somehow, Mr. Dream d'Endless is the Show-n-Tell/Career Day person for Robin's best friend this afternoon..... Hob is gobsmacked and tongue-tied - Dream is even MORE in person.

Everyone in the Dance world knows Hob too, for his choice to choose family over touring; and how romantic it was that he put his promising ballet career to the side for his El and how sad it was when he lost all but his Robin a few years ago.

Dream certainly knows Hob Gadling.... and not just because he's Orpheus's best friend's father.

This is too cute omg. I have this notion of Dream kind of resenting and looking down on Hob at first, because he chose family over art, and Dream never had that choice! He's mad inside that he never had the opportunity to do such an outrageous thing. Deep down inside, though, Dream thinks that Hob is the most incredible, admirable, beautiful man in the entire world.

Orpheus and Robin are the closest of friends and of course, Robin can't stop talking about Mr D'Endless - a real life actual celebrity! Robin has no idea that his own father used to be a famous dancer too. Hob tried to keep himself in good shape for ballet and tried to stay in practice, but it's pretty impossible as he has a full time job running a pub and taking care of Robin.

Dream still recognises Hob, though. Even though he's tired and out of shape, with a seven year old clinging onto him and chattering, Dream still knows Hob. Their eyes meet across the playground and it's like the overture of a ballet suddenly starts playing in the background.

Clearly its time for a long overdue playdate for Orpheus and Robin! Hob is so nervous he nearly throws up. How can he possibly sit down with Dream D'Endless, a man he's admired for years?! How can he handle the shame of knowing that he'll never be the dancer he once was, while Dream is a more shining star than ever before?!

Meanwhile Dream is asking himself: how is Hob Gadling still the most handsome man in the world, and how on earth is going to handle his massive crush on the man?

[itsstrange]

ALERT ALERT ALERT!!!!

I JUST SAW NIEL ELLICE. I REPEAT I JUST SAW NEIL ELLICE AT THE PARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He was sitting on a bench a few feet away from me!!!! 😭😭😭

I will update more when I’m off of work. Not very much details but my reaction of recognizing him is actually quite funny lol

—————————————————————————

Okay. Here’s the story. Again not very much to say but I felt like my reaction was pretty funny.

Here it is:

So I was at Griffith Park, IYKYK. I was at Griffith for work. I’m a PA for people with disabilities and my client loves to chill at Griffith every-time we work together. So today was like any other day. We usually go for a small hike at the hiking trail but today he decided to just sit on the benches. It was early when we got there, I wanna say around 10am so no one was really there just a small family or two.

So we sat down on some benches in front of the playground. I was doing some paperwork and my client was eating his breakfast. After I finished my work, I was writing on my journal (Yes I journal. And so should you. It helps for anything really). Anyways, as I was journaling often times I’d see people walk by here and there, then in my peripheral vision I saw a little group settling beside me. Didn’t think much of it and kept writing in my journal. After a good minute or more I was done jotting my thoughts and began watching videos on YouTube on my phone, at this time I did glance over to my left just to check my surroundings and I saw the bench beside me, noticing it had been occupied.

Had a few things on top of the table but no one was sitting down, so I went back to my phone. Few minutes later I get up to stretch (cuz I had been sitting for a while) so as I was stretching, I again was checking my surroundings, just glancing around and I again looked to my left. This time there was a man standing just a few inches away from me, all I saw was beard. Again didn’t think much of it but did say in my mind “he’s pretty cute” (My type is bearded men) 😂😭😭 and turned to look away. But as I looked away I have a tendency to glance down to checkout what people wear, often times I do that I end up liking their shoes, or just like how they dressed, but as I did that I noticed he was in running/ workout gear.

And I thought to myself, “Huh.. he dresses like Neil would when he posts himself working out,”

I then glance over once again but the man had turned around facing away from me but that is when realization struck. How you say? It was the fucking hat. The moment I saw the hat i looked away and immediately began thinking to myself there’s no way it’s him, there’s just no way. So again, I slightly glanced over and this time he was facing towards the play area and that is when I got confirmation. His side profile. Girl when I tell you u I began panicking inside after I fully realized Neil Fucking Ellice was in fact standing just a few feet away from me.

I got so nervous that I sat back down on the bench because I just didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I tried watching my YouTube videos again but I just couldn’t! I couldn’t concentrate because he was legit sitting right next to me! I know I could have said hi or something but I did not want to bother him for two things:

1.) He wasn’t alone. He was with his family.

2.) I was just completely nervous and just didn’t have the guts to walk up to him. (Lmao)

I always respect a well known persons privacy or space when they are around their family. Especially around their kids. Yes maybe some of them don’t mind a quick photo or an autograph but that’s still considering bothering them. And I was raised to respect people’s space and boundaries. So I didn’t ask for an autograph. My brother-in-law and sister were trying to encourage me to ask for an autograph in our GC after I messaged them lmao. But I couldn’t. I was too nervous to do so. Then my Brother-in-law claimed I probably would have made his day since he most likely doesn’t get that much recognition in public, so by me going up to him and asking for a quick autograph I probably would have made him feel good and notice he indeed has a fanbase that can easily spot him. But again I didn’t want to bother him nor I had the courage to do so 😂.

After a few minutes of recognizing him, I then had to leave to drop off my client at his house at 1230, but I was so nervous I didn’t want to get up fearing I’d make a fool of myself in front of him lmao but I eventually got up and walked behind him, there was no way I was walking in front of him where the walk-way was, absolutely not 😂😂

So yeah. That’s my story lol.

Also this was the hat that started it all lol: