#vampire!suguru...

[teddybeartoji]

your suguru tag on that vampire post has RUINED my night /j

HAHAHAHAHAHA I'M SORRRYYYYYYY it's not my fault he's like this okay.. he can be so mean sometimes he just wants to tease you so you'll whine and pout and so he can make it better again just so he can . make you worse again he's terrible (i'm in so deep i think if he looked my way i'd drop to my knees)

[rice5x]

vampire geto

[chososcutie]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME .ᐟ

summary. when a vampire and a werewolf in rut on a full moon find you, a lost hiker stranded in the woods one stormy night, you find yourself in the midst of the eiffel tower of a century, pun intended.

featuring. werewolf!gojo x fem!reader x vampire!geto

word count. 3k

content. mdni fem!reader, werewolf!gojo, vampire!geto, dubcon, slight fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, petnames, degrading, bloodsucking, biting, oral (m!receiving), hickeys, doggy style, threesome, knotting, possessiveness, spitting, big dicks, grinding, cursing

author's note. this is all pure horny, disgusting smut i wrote in between breaks for my new fic coming out!

an owl hoots overhead, the sound low and foreboding, twigs cracking under your every step.

you glance at the black night sky, and the rumble of thunder moving in quickly, rain already hitting your warm skin in fat droplets that threaten a hard downpour soon to come.

shit.

how had it gotten to this point again?

oh right, your stupid idea of a hike through one of the most deserted places on earth had delved from a light-hearted afternoon walk into a nightmare when you found yourself going in circles, dazed and lost as a stormy night crept closer.

you had tried to call a number that would alert any nearby park rangers or the police, but your phone, battery dead and useless proved to be no help whatsoever.

and now, with a full moon beaming down on you and the rustling of bushes near you, you were out of ideas.

you come to a stop, your back hitting a tree trunk with a loud thump! as you slide down it in defeat.

the only chance of survival you had was to wait it out until morning when people came out to the trails again, and the storm passed, and just as you’re pondering where you could find shelter, a low growl far too close to you as well as heavy-sounding footsteps sound beside you.

“h-hello?” you call uncertainly, your head whipping left and right in the hopes of spotting whatever it was. “is anyone there?”

in response, something snarls, louder than any of the other noises you had been hearing tonight, its hot breath practically fanning across your neck in its closeness.

you turn your head in horror just in time to come face-to-face with a huge white werewolf, its frosty azure eyes big and unblinking, maw slack with lascivious drool pouring down, and sharp fangs glinting ominously.

crash!

thunder, loud and booming, shakes the ground and it’s then that you bolt, with no sense of direction only cold fear to guide you, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you run from the monster-like being, his footsteps hard on your trail.

he's snapping at your heels and growling ferociously as rain begins to pour down, absolutely drenching you with your shirt clinging to your figure like a second skin and your hair plastered across your forehead.

you gasp and pant, and just as you're starting to lose hope, bumbling blindly through the sheets of icy rain coming down hard and chilling you to the bone, you see it.

a cave, with not much to look at other than a slight overhang above it, all gray slated rock and darkness on the inside.

normally, you would be suspicious of such a cave, opting to investigate it a little further before heading in, but all rational parts of your brain disappear as you dart into the mouth of it, your clothes dripping wet and your breathing harsh.

it's only when you collapse onto the floor in a tired, soaked heap, breathing heavily and trying to calm yourself down, thinking that the entrance of the cave would be too small for the bulk of the monster outside to fit through, that you realize you're not alone.

because hanging upside down in the darkness that the cave provides, a blinking eyed bat stares back at you, slowly transforming right in front of your eyes into a tall, looming man, one with fangs jutting out below his lip and lazy, monolidded eyes that flick up and down your figure absently.

"who dares rouse me from my eternal slumber?" he crosses his arms across his chest with a scowl, all ashy pale skin and sunken undereyes.

"who are you?" you try to scramble backwards away from him, but he's quicker, dropping to his knees and pulling you into him by your legs.

he smirks at the small gasp you let out, and the involuntary shudder at the feel of his ice cold fingers dancing lightly along your thighs. "i believe i asked you a question first, love."

you stare back at him, breathless for a moment, your lips trembling as you manage to stutter out a response. "i-i got lost in the woods, and something was chasing me. i'm sorry, i didn't know this was your cave, i'll leave."

and just as you begin to stand up, he pulls you right back, his fangs creeping out. "ah ah, not so fast."

your breath catches, fear making your heart thump painfully in your chest as you try to force yourself to think.

what should you do?

his grip on you is tight and as he leans in closer, soft breath ghosting over the sensitive skin on your neck, you feel your skin prickle, managing to choke out a weak, "what are you doing?"

he smiles against your skin, allowing you to feel the sharpness of his fangs as they press against you, not quite biting yet but just there. "why, you're mine now, pet. my prey. my victim. thy fate is sealed."

he slowly opens his mouth, his hot, wet tongue coming to sweep across your pulse point and just as he's about to sink in, a loud howl is heard, followed by quick, skittering footsteps, or rather paw steps.

the same werewolf from before, with pure white fur and a lashing tail skids to a stop in front of you and the man, panting furiously, his cerulean blue eyes heated as he eyes you.

"she's mine, you bloodthirsty bastard! get off her!" he comes to separate you two, though not without the black-haired man's low curse as he rises once more to his full height, eyeing the wolf with a look of contempt.

"goddamnit gojo, you filthy mutt! what are you doing?"

gojo snarls in reply, coming to press against you from behind, staring at geto with a hint of a challenge in his frosty eyes. "i found her first. why do you think she came running in here?"

you can only swallow as your eyes rove between the two, wondering what was going to happen to you.

the fear had begun to wear off though, replaced with a low curling heat in the bottom of your tummy. they were both unfairly attractive men, and it was no surprise your eye was drawn to the chubbed bulge straining in geto's leathery pants or the way you felt gojo's swollen, hefty cock right up against your back.

"yeah? and why is it that you need her so desperately?"

and it's then that you feel the way gojo is pushing his hips forward, humping you ever so slightly as if he can't control himself, his breathing soft and whimpery as he suddenly bucks into you, desperate.

this doesn't go unnoticed by geto, whose eyes slowly follow the drag of his hot, weeping cock up and down your back, his raven eyes snapping back up to gojo with a snort. "you're in heat."

he says it like a statement, not a question, and at this, gojo's head falls onto your shoulder with a drawn-out groan, his breaths puffing feverishly out against you as any restraint he had snaps, furiously rutting against you and pushing your body slightly forward with every grind.

"yes! fuck, m'in heat!" he grits out. "now, can ya help me out here?"

geto, after flicking a strand of his long, black hair out of his face, pauses, his lips curving up just for a second as if something had crossed his mind.

"i think i have a way we can both get what we want." he practically purrs as he comes to a crouch in front of you, tilting your chin up to meet the burning intensity of his gaze. "but it's going to require you to be a good little pet for us, hm? can you do that?"

you find yourself nodding along eagerly, biting your lip as geto's cool hands curl around your thighs, spreading them open wide for gojo, who eagerly shifts, ripping your drenched panties aside with a rrrrip! of fabric.

you're facing gojo, and laying back on geto, with your head on his shoulder, his fingers beginning to work their way up your neck, pausing every now and then to feel your pulse points.

he chuckles darkly. "your pulse is jumping, sweet thing. ya excited to feel satoru's big cock stretching you?"

you nod weakly, slumped back on his chest, your breaths heaving as satoru begins to smear your gushing slick around your entrance with the reddened, veiny head of his cock, his tip bumping your puffy clit as he grinds in between your folds slightly.

your breath catches in a soft moan and suguru hums against your neck in approval, tongue laving hot, wet trails of saliva to drip down generously.

your plush thighs, sprawled apart and waiting, twitch slightly as experimentally, satoru pushes a couple thickened inches inside your hot, clamping walls.

the stretch is almost too much as you squeeze your eyes shut, gojo grunting above you as he tries to slowly fit himself all the way into your spasming cunt.

geto hushes you softly, cooing praises as one hand comes down to toy with your pulsing clit, rubbing tight little circles as his mouth busies itself on your sensitive neck, sucking purpleish hickeys across the expanse of it.

and when satoru finally bottoms out inside you with a whine, he's immediately rocking into you with fervor as his cock seems to only swell, his knot inflating and bumping your twitchy nub with every small movement— while you squirm and let out little cries of pleasure, suguru cradling you closer as his sucking turns more intense.

it's then that you feel the first graze of his teeth, featherlight but there, just barely a nibble across your flesh.

“hah.. fuck!” you reach up, tangling your fingers in geto’s long hair, pressing his head down harder against your neck as you moan breathily from the added sensation of his fangs scraping across you coupled with satoru’s almost frantic thrusts.

“slow down satoru,” geto murmurs hazily from your neck, almost as if whispering it to himself. “our pet is fragile.”

he lets out a desperate grunt in response, the hefty weight of his balls smacking against your ass as he angles himself to hit deep inside you to your cushy, sweet spot, the one that never fails to make you see stars.

your eyes roll back and it’s then that you feel suguru’s fangs bury themselves deep into your neck, the sharp prick fading to a pleasurable sting as he breathes in your scent with a satisfied groan rumbling deep into his chest.

satoru’s fat cock, with its bumpy veins and girth was edging you closer and closer to release with every sharp piston of his slim hips in and out of you, and now as it bumped your cervix repeatedly with sappy precum flooding out of the head, your mouth hung open with drool beginning to pour out with every shocking smack!

you weren't going to last much longer, and with a cry of, "satoru!" his thrusting turns more intense, his fluffy ears twitching frantically above his head as his dick throbs deep inside you.

and then, you feel it.

nothing more than a bump at first, his achingly swollen knot, just barely brushing your sappy folds.

but then more, as his fat, rotund knot begins to swivel n' push its way inside, shoving all of it past your tight, drooling heat with a drawn-out groan.

it pulsates weakly, halfway in and stretching your pussy lips obscenely around its sheer girth, and you tip your head back further onto suguru's shoulder with a keen, where he's still buried into your neck, simply just breathing you in.

"wan' it, 'toru!" you moan mindlessly, spreading your legs further as your whole body trembles and squirms. "want your knot!"

satoru's whole body jerks in response, his hips stuttering and more sloshes of hot, oozing precum gushing out of his furiously red blushing cock, zigzagging veins massaging your plush walls with every calculated stroke of his.

your skin was sizzling with heat, and your stomach had begun to curl into tight little knots, tears pricking at your lash line from how close you were to tipping over the edge and you mewl, clawing at gojo's toned hips in an effort to draw him impossibly closer.

your release is so close you can practically taste it, your every muscle tensed and coiled while you find yourself bucking back into gojo's sloppy thrusts, drool beginning to pour down your chin— and it's at that exact moment that geto rears his head back and bites hard, fangs sucking filthily upon your neck as if it were a lifeline, that you find yourself cumming.

your jaw falls slack in a silent cry, your orgasm exploding through you so intensely you can't even react other than the jolting of your hips up as you clench and milk satoru's thick cock whilst spraying your gushing release all along his abdominals.

you were squirting— so much of it that it was just flooding out of you, soaking satoru entirely in your honeyed essence.

his white tufted happy trail was dragging along your pussy back n' forth as he huffs feverishly before the raw, lewd plop! of his hot n' heavy knot being bullied into you seems to resound, the filthy wet squelches your cunt was making in response making you wriggle helplessly.

and then he's throwing his head back and cumming, the sight so utterly sinful as creamy wads of ivory sap are spurting deep inside your walls, ribbons n' ribbons of it until it's too much, and even then he can't stop, halfheartedly rutting into you as endless amounts steadily pulse into you.

geto groans, the sound low and reverberating through you as he continues taking pull after pull of your thick, warm blood, the feeling almost orgasmic as he draws it out of you slow, your eyes rolling back with the pleasurable ache.

but soon enough, you find yourself feeling lightheaded and with a weak protest from geto, manage to pull him off, his eyes half-cracked open and hazy with pleasure, crimson droplets dribbling down the corners of his lips which he quickly licks off.

gojo's still cumming, pink sheened lips dropped open and cerulean eyes clouded with lust, and you watch geto's head laze in a downward angle to bring your attention to the massive, rock hard bulge in his pants, twitching for any ounce of attention you were willing to give.

"you gonna help me out too, doll?" he drawls, amusement in his gaze as your breath catches at the sheer size of him when he slooowly drags his pants down his hips to let his cock slap against his stomach, curved and pierced at the frenulum.

he was.. pierced?

he stands up, pants half unzipped and turns your body toward him, gojo's large palms sliding over your hips to flip you onto your hands and knees, knot still firmly planted in place as he starts slowly dragging his cock in little rocking thrusts.

geto tilts your chin upward, smirking and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ears. his hand gently strokes your cheek, and as you gaze up at him with a whimper, growls out a, "open your mouth for me, pet."

you do obediently, and watch as he leans over you, letting a thick, silvery wad of spit sultrily drip down onto your tongue, your mouth instantly closing to swallow.

as you do, he shifts, one big hand wrapping around the thickened base of himself to drag his weepy cock along your lips, salty precum already streaking down your chin.

you slightly part your lips, only for geto to push just the fat, bulbous tip of his cock in between, groaning as your warm, wet mouth engulfs him.

gojo pants from behind, his big hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist, his breathing ragged as he furiously humps into you as much as he can with his swollen knot stretching your pussy lips wide, his seed dribbling out occasionally.

geto groans, a hand coming to tangle itself in your hair and pulling you down hard until his plump, globed tip is bruising the back of your throat, making you choke around him with a small moan, drool trickling down the corners of your lips.

he taps your cheek gently, as if to check on you, and you nod slightly, your eyes glassy with tears from all the stimulation as gojo's veined girth swats around your insides, absolutely pouring helpings of precum into you to add on to his mess from earlier.

and what happens next is something you can't prepare yourself for— satoru's big hand raises itself above the curve of your ass and then comes down in a harsh smack!

geto chuckles, pulling you further down on his cock with a tug on your hair until tears are streaming down your face and you're gagging on the length of him.

smack!

again, and again he spanks your plump, jiggling ass, mouth watering as he watches you, feeling the way your walls clench and spasm around him in preparation.

then suguru starts up a brutal pace, fucking into your mouth with abandon, his head thrown back and baring his adam's apple as it bobs in a swallow, muttering curses as you bob your head slightly to take more, your tongue working in quick flicks below his sensitive head and running along the cool metal of his piercing.

meanwhile, satoru's hips are snapping ruthlessly behind you, causing you to ping-pong between them as they both use you to chase their pleasure, your back arching as you shudder, pussy clenching down hard as your stomach tenses up.

you were close to cumming for the second time tonight, and satoru seemed to take notice, because this time when he raises his hand again, it's positioned directly over your puffy, throbbing clit, coming down in a wet thwack! that has you seeing stars and cumming so hard you think you black out for a second.

your thighs tremble and drench themselves in your own syrupy slick while you squirm desperately, your muffled moans and cries sending vibrations straight to suguru's dick.

and then you feel it. the musky tang of his cum filling up your mouth while he makes a noise caught between a moan and a whine, spurting so messily until it dribbles down your chin, his cock twitching with every webbed, ivory wad of seed he spills out.

and then with one last drag of his hot, bulging shaft, gojo also cums, loudly and messily with pools n' pools of white spilling down your thighs in rivulets and a moan that echoes throughout the empty cave, bouncing off the walls until it's all you can hear, your body trembling and spent.

your eyes shutter closed briefly, and distantly, you feel hands moving you, almost reverently, like you were their new shiny toy and they didn't want to break you— yet.

a hot, eager tongue laps at your thighs, cleaning up the mess streaking down between them, tender gentle strokes that focus on precision rather than overstimulating you further.

and when you're all cleaned up, you find yourself laid out flat, propped up against gojo whose ears twitch, his tail curling around your waist as he nuzzles into you, and geto who lies between your legs, his head on your thigh almost lazily.

you sigh, your eyes beginning to droop, tired, but before you can succumb to slumber, you hear geto's voice speaking to you in a murmur.

"you know you're going to be staying with us now, right?"

"why's that?" you say sleepily.

his mouth curves into a sadistic little smirk. "because you're our beloved little pet now. ours, and only ours."

©CHOSOSCUTIE. please do not plagiarize or repost my works!

a/n: this is kinda bad and a little rushed but i had to get something out

[alexiroflife]

jjk men as "sinners" vampires... trying to lure you in

MDNI, mentions of violence, ryan coogler's "sinners" film references, angst, vampire!au, slightly gory descriptions, a smidgen of fluff with a whole lot of seduction, uhh mentions of spit in choso's, f|ngering in choso's gulp, suggestive themese, mentions of death, taunting, i'm in a chokehold

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

-> sinners changed my life. i don't even have the words. the history, the music, the representation, the cinematography??? BROTHERRRR. my culture is so beautiful and so is bo chow telling grace that he got the car warmed up after he turned and micheal b. jordan with vampire grills, so now i gotta make this a cross-fandom headcanon problem. ya'll this had to be done and it will be done with aot men too.

satoru gojo: "come give me a kiss..."

you know it's not your husband when you catch the flicker of hellfire in his normally, now you particularly realize, virtuous sapphire eyes. in the midst of tonight's horror, he stands so still as a symphony of daunting low humming, celtic triumphance, and the nauseating stench of blood rise into the air and intermix, dancing about in a manifestation of dark chaos. and there your husband is in the doorway, a partner to the horrors with a hand pressed to the frame as shaggy white hair flutters into lidded eyes. eyes that you know are no longer his.

his pink lips curve into a soft, flirtatious smile, one that you have seen time and time again. yet the image you would have sworn you knew like the back of your hand appears foreign to you. something silent, something sinister grasps it, and gone is the man you once knew. gone is the spirit from his gaze and grin, an undead mischief serving in its place.

"what's the matter, baby?"

his smooth voice rumbles into a playful taunt, filtering into your ears like a seductive lament for the dead. a rasping breath subtly catches his words, striking you as something like a predatory animal. your eyes well with tears as you look over satoru's pearly white skin, somehow even paler in the moonlight... he practically glows.

your eyes drift down to the tattered button-up adorning his strapping figure as he crosses an ankle over the other and leans, hovering over you between the invisible barrier protecting you from the outside of the club.

you gulp, tracing the patches of smeared blood over his white fabric with your trembling eyes, over the stains that coat his fingertips. your body shakes, a lump lodging itself in your throat as you are forced into abrupt mourning.

this isn't satoru. this isn't the man you love.

he's dead before you.

"you're looking a little pale," he continues, causing you to snap your eyes back up to his face. he tilts his head as his smirk stretches, dimples poking into his cheek with the subtly baring of his sharpened teeth.

it's strange. you can still feel his desire as he zones in on you, soaking you into his surveillance as he shamelessly admires your features like he wants to ravish you.

however, now, you are sure that he does not intend to ravish you the way you would necessarily hope.

"is my pretty girl not feeling well?” satoru practically bullies you with his tone and his words, for the monster knows exactly why you appear so unsettled before him. he is mentally stripping you down, taking you apart piece by piece, utilizing the love he knows you have for him as well as his love that has charged into hunger as a means to reel you in.

“do you want a kiss to make it all go away? that used to help with anything. i’m certain it’ll help now. aren’t you?”

your heart is hammering with fear, grief, love, and you are afraid to even open your mouth to speak. to make a single movement with your body. satoru has you paralyzed. a spell has been cast over you by some kind of curse, and you are distraught. distraught by the death that has suddenly gripped your husband of two years, and distraught by the fact that you are having a significantly hard time mustering up the strength to walk away from him.

for though his soul has left his body, it still looks like him. it still, to some extent, feels like him. your heart and mind and body still long to react to him as if he is still yours, as if he is still alive and human.

"come on, (y/n)."

and when he calls your name, it is still his voice that rings it, his tongue that your address rolls off of so longingly.

“just step on outside and give me a kiss.”

you must be insane for wanting to, you think to yourself. for how can you accept the vicious murder of your husband so easily, especially when he stands before you, devilishly handsome, asking you for something you did not think you would ever be able to give him again?

“come on. you know you want to,” satoru hums. “it’ll make you feel so much better. i can make that pout on your pretty face go away just like that.”

you do not even take offense when he refers to your bloodshot red puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and snotty nose as a ‘pout.’ all you hear is your satoru, and it kills you internally how desperately you still need him though every bone in your body is screaming at you to turn away before you are next.

when satoru catches that a part of him is getting to you somehow, he shifts himself slightly, lifting his head to stare down at you head on, his playfulness dwindling as his steely eyes sharpen.

“or… if you don’t wanna come outside…” he murmurs, eyes tracing down your body, studying calmly how tear droplets break from your chin and splatter onto your exposed chest. he takes in a slow, deep breath through his nose, distant memories of watching you dress in pink silk for tonight’s festivities fluttering somewhere in the back of his skull, further fueling his bloodlust, melded with an honest desire to never part with you.

you hold your breath, looking directly into his eyes as his lips part and shiny fangs peak through. “...you can just let me in so i can feel that pretty mouth of yours on mine. you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. i’ll take care of it for you. just like i always do.”

his words wrap around you like a snake tightening its coils around prey, entrancing you in the steady dismantling of your self control.

your breath hitches in your throat, your fist tightening at your sides as your fingers dig in your palm hard enough to draw blood.

satoru notices, and for the first time since his slaughter, you see his lips spread into a toothy, excited grin, canines pointed enough to break skin with a simple nick.

“ohhh…” he coos “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you gulp heart, fighting yourself internally, nose flaring, skin heating.

“well, i can make that happen. all you gotta do, pretty, is say the words.”

he brings his face in just the smallest bit closer, still confined to the outside by his current obstacle. you can smell the fading cologne on his neck, feel the bitter coolness of his breath fan your face.

“let me in.”

suguru geto: "you know better..."

"angel..."

you hear his voice practically singing for you from just outside the doorway, on the other side of the wall, but you do not dare fall for his charm. you can not afford to now, for it unfortunately may cost you your life.

but suguru geto has always been a twistedly persuasive man. perhaps it was the manipulative tendencies he tended to put to use when working with unpleasant people, but he never would have used them on you before...

not when he was alive and human, at least.

now, as you shield yourself by pressing your back to the wall just beside the entryway, hiding away from your turned fiancé's beautiful face, you dread the notion that you may fall victim to his pretty words.

"now, now. you know better than to hide away from me, let alone pretend you don't hear me speaking to you."

his gentle voice slinks into your ear, testing you, tempting you.

you tense, cramping up every muscle in your body as if that will help you reject him, as if restricting your body will somehow reduce your longing to be with him, no matter what he was turned into.

you can practically feel him. how he hovers, how he lingers just on the other side of where you stand, how he taunts you with his looming physicality, how he knows that your instilled connection to him will draw you out of hiding any moment now.

you want to fight the drug that is him that has somehow amplified in his vampiric state, but your fiancé is gone. he’s been ripped from you, and all that is left is this monster that resembles him, that is his flesh and bone but not his soul.

in spite of it all, in spite of the carnage he seeks and the chaos he wishes to inspire, it is still suguru geto. it is still his long beautiful hair, his silky skin, his damned hypnotic voice.

"don't do that to me, (y/n). don't ignore me. it makes me so sad."

you can hear the playful pout, and your stomach flips.

"i can hear you, you know. i can hear you breathing."

your eyes blow wide and you instinctively hold your breath, raising your head and pressing your lips together tightly.

a melodic, gentle chuckle slips out of him, the sound just as beautiful as it was when he was living.

"nice try, but that means i can hear when you try to hide it too."

christ, he will let nothing go unseen? he's torturing you, swarming you with the attention he knows you will not be able to deny.

"i can hear your heart beating too," he reveals, his voice dropping deeper, lower. "it's beating so fast. am i making you nervous?""

"just stop talking, suguru," you hush out along with your held breath, and now that you have answered, both you and suguru know that he's caught you.

"ahhh, there's that beautiful voice," he smiles. "how lovely it is to talk to you again, angel."

"suguru, this is-" you suck in some air as sweat beads over your forehead. "this is fucked. leave me alone."

"why are you giving me so much attitude? i thought you liked talking to me."

"you're not my fiancé."

"now how could you say such a thing when your fiancé is right here talking to you?"

"suguru, stop. i can't do this with you. you're gone. you're dead. i know why you're here, and you're not gonna get inside.''

"that's a bit pessimistic... i prefer to keep my mind open and stay positive."

"well, optimism isn't gonna make me do otherwise. i'm not letting you in."

"alright. then you can come outside to me."

you whip your head. "no," you deny sternly.

"you're thinking on this too much, (y/n)," he says. "i'm not gonna hurt you. you know i'd never hurt you."

"i don't believe you."

"i just want to see you. can't you at least let me do that?"

"i said no, suguru."

"you don't have to step outside. i won't make you," he continues. "i just want to speak to you face to face. i hate having this wall between us."

you close your eyes and grind down on your teeth.

he's too good at this. too good at making you want to give into him.

"just take a few steps to the right so we can talk in the doorway. i can't get in either way. you have nothing to worry about."

you do not answer, for you ponder it.

"(y/n)," he drawls. "what did i say about ignoring me?"

"shut up."

"you know that's not how we communicate. we never ignore each other."

and you hate yourself for it, but that is what does it for you. that is what crashes through the weak wall you temporarily had up in order to keep yourself from giving him too much, from deceiving you into eventually letting him inside. it starts with letting him see you, and nevertheless, you break because of how perfectly his previous words align with something the normal him would have said.

it is your only glimpse of who he was before he turned. before he died.

he fooled you, with references to your relationship style and the sweetness of his tone.

he must sense that you are relinquishing control, and he leans further into it. "right?"

"one minute," you state swiftly. "you have one minute to say what you want to say to me."

"one minute," he agrees, humoring what you convince yourself to be the control you already lost. "no more and no less."

you know you shouldn't. you know you'll only fall for what he tells you.

but you have to look him in the eye and see him truly changed before you.

so you cautiously step away from the wall and into the doorway, open to a perfect view of the vast land and abandoned cars.

suguru slowly saunters his way over, a satisfied smile capturing his face with shining eyes. his hair sways with his movements as he stands before you, the splatters of blood on his cheek not going unseen.

the urge to cry takes over you as you look over him, and his smile widens. "atta girl."

nanami kento: "i got the car all warmed up..."

you think you're dreaming up some kind of horrific nightmare for a moment.

it all happened so fast. the witnessing of a demon of the night flying into your innocent friend, sinking teeth into his neck and blood spurting about the grass and the side of the wall.

you could only pray that your husband made it home safely until you see him saunter over to the open doorway where you stand calmly, dress shoes crunching into the gravel as he approaches. the bloody scene transpires to the side, and you find yourself whipping your head between both the murder and the unfathomable sight of your husband, who has not even spared a glance into that direction.

"k-kento?" you stammer, heartbeat in your ears.

the said man looks up at you and smiles, fiddling with his car keys.

you do not wish to think the worst. you know this image is strange, but you do not want to entertain the thought... that your husband has become one of them.

yet his entire presence is offputting. not a trace of anxiety or concern for anything is written on his face. he presents as something like a simulation or robot beyond your comprehension, for this thing is not behaving the way your husband, nanami, would, despite his identical likeness to him.

"let's go, honey," he looks at you blankly with a small, polite smile. you blink, immensely confounded. you twitch to go with him, but those around you, as well as yourself, instinctively know that you must stay put.

you have not accepted it yet. you can not accept it yet.

you furrow your brows, eyes glazing over as you look at your strapping husband in awe. he looks back at you almost lovingly, kindly, but it is not the same love and kindness you know him to possess. it feels empty, the way his honey brown eyes meet yours. it is like he is voice of feeling, void of any warmth that you once knew him to withhold.

"kento, what are you doing? what happened?"

the gnarly sound of hungry growling accompanied by flesh ripping fills the space when it is silent, and you fight how you want to look over.

you find it disturbing how the blonde has yet to spare a passing glance to the scene. a man is actively being devoured by a vampire right there before you all, and he looks at you expectantly as though he does not notice.

"i was just getting the car warmed up for you, sweetheart," he assures you affectionately. "it's all ready to go. come, love. let's go home."

home?

you feel something crumble within you.

you want to go home so terribly. it is the one thing you want more than anything in this life at the time being, and kento knew that before stepping out to get the car. he knew by the look of terror on your face that he had to get you out of here, so he tredded out into unknown danger for you hours ago. he got the car started for you. and he came back for you...

but you realize that the nanami that left you is not the same nanami that has returned to you.

kento turns after your pause to outstretch his had clutching the keys and click a button. your car beeps in response, but you did not miss the blood staining the back of his shirt that is only revealed when he turns his body.

your jaw hangs open and your hands come to cover your mouth to prevent from openly wailing. this catches kento's attention, as he turns back around and lowers the keys.

"see?"

he lifts his brows at you, holding out his hand toward you. your eyes blur over with tears as you stare at his hand. the hand you would once eagerly clasp in your own now tinged with blurred red.

"let's go."

"ken, wh-" you're shaking uncontrollably. struggling to speak through your tremors as your hands hover over your face. "d-do you not see what's- what's happening right next to you?"

a tear breaks past your lashes as kento finally turns to look, and a naive part of you almost hopes that he will jump back in shock upon taking in the sight he could have possibly missed.

instead, he lowers his head with a soft chuckle. his hair, once slicked back, falls over his face in waterfall-like strands as he ducks in amusement. "don't worry about that, honey. he's just a little hungry. that's all."

you think you are going to be sick when you register his reply.

kento looks back up at you casually, stretching his hand out to you once more. "i'll get you away from that. it's alright."

you can hardly see him now through your tears, and you do not wish to. you can not look at the face that was once true to you as whatever hides in his skin tries to trick you with sweet promises.

your husband is dead, you realize, and your world comes crashing down around you.

it all happens within your mind, however, as you are now void of any words that could even begin to respond appropriately to this situation or convey how you are feeling.

kento notices how you do not take his hand and he lets it fall to his side. "if you're not comfortable with that, then..." he pauses, tucking the car keys back into his pocket.

he takes a few steps closer to the doorway, pressing his lips together as he peers down at you peacefully. you unwind before him, yet he does not pay any mind to your turmoil.

instead, he presents you with another solution.

"then maybe you can let me in so i can get all of our things and head home."

he threads a bloody hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face so that he can see you clearly.

with this new view, you watch a pale light swirl in his dead brown eyes as he lowers his voice for you, and only you, to hear.

"would that be better for you, honey?"

choso kamo: "just a taste..."

you've never seen choso so commanding in his fit of desperation before.

the last you had seen of him before he whisked you away from a game of spades with the gentle call of your name and the clasp of your hand was when he stepped outside to ensure the area was safe at this time of night.

and suddenly, he's come back with a blinding hot urge to strip you naked and take you in the middle of the dance floor for everybody to see.

the club is alive with soulful music and dance, and therefore choso is as well, sliding warm palms expertly down your naval from behind, pressing your back flush to his chest as your hips sway with his.

he is so quiet, but you know he is there by the way he touches you, the way he breathes you in with his nose nudging the pulse of your neck, and the way his diamond eyes train on yours.

normally, the brunette's actions are careful, hesitant, but tonight he takes charge in the way he holds you and stares into your eyes, an unspoken greed simmering in his gaze.

your body knows better than to deny this, but your mind wishes to warn. something gnaws at you in the back of your mind to be careful, but you elect to ignore the feeling.

it's choso, after all. the man has been your loving boyfriend for years. he's the only man you would confidently say that you feel safe and secure in the presence of. if anything, you decide that the alcohol buzzing in your system has risen a hint of irrational paranoia.

so you lean into him, head falling against his shoulder as he further encircles you. he hovers over your shoulder, inching his face closer to yours as though on a mission. he keeps you snug, tightening his embrace of you and brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

the erratically soul-twisting strum of the guitar ascends, almost puppeteering choso's actions as he rushes in to kiss you hard, mirroring the pulse of the crowd with the swallowing of your mouth.

you hum, taken as he cradles your head and leans you over, dipping you as the chorus livens. choso is firm, possessive, and it has your head reeling. he feels different, suddenly. stoic, yet buzzing inside with hunger for you.

it does not take long before you are led in a daze to the nearby bathroom and shoved roughly up against the wall. you can not even open yours eyes to see choso slam the door behind him as he swarms you, lips swimming passionately together as he presses you between himself and the wall, leaving you with nowhere to run.

"cho," you moan as you momentarily part, a string of spit connecting your damp, swollen lips.

choso groans, a deep, desperate sound that he forces you to swallow when he pushes back in, tongue slithering into your cavern and intertwining with yours.

you're lightheaded, hardly cognizant of anything but your boyfriend's touch and the way you grind eagerly against his crotch. large palms caress over your dress, travel down, and sneak under the silk, sliding over bare skin and hiking your fabric up to your hip.

he hoists you up, your legs wrapping over his torso as he steadies you with a hand to the bum and your back flat against the wall. "don't look away from me," he breathes when he snaps his lips away from yours.

your heavy eyes search his as you nod obediently, lips parted. choso holds you gaze intensely, diamond eyes shining rather brilliantly as his free hand sneaks between the two of you, creeping fingers toward your heat.

your jaw falls open the moment his thick fingers brush against your bundle of nerves beneath your panties and your arms tighten around his neck instinctively. choso shudders an inhalation, keeping his eyes to you as he tugs your panties to the side and slowly drags his middle finger up your wet slit.

you gasp pleasantly and choso twitches, breath heavy.

"cho," you whisper his name again, but he does not stop. you can tell a part of him is listening to you though as his finger slowly nudges past your folds and to your entrance. you whimper softly. "c-cho, you're... you're drooling, baby."

and though he does very little to acknowledge your observation, a trail of saliva slides down his chin from the corner of his mouth. he says nothing, only grunting to himself as his finger slides into your warmth. you gape, knocking your head back against the wall as choso follows, bringing his slick lips to hover over yours.

"lick it off of me," he orders, hot against your skin.

the orgasmic spell you are under eases you into action. you lean forward pressing your tongue out to glide against his milky skin as he tenderly works his finger in and out of you. you both synchronize a needy moan as you lap up his spit, and choso catches your lips before you can fall away from him again.

your soft moans transition into muffled cries as choso swallows them up, an added finger, then suddenly three pistoning in and out of you with loud squelches. you cling to him tightly, drowning in pleasure as he kisses you as though it is the very last time he ever will.

he moves down to slather wet kisses over your jaw, then down to your neck. he sucks and slurps graciously at the skin. your cries blend into the music just outside the door, and choso lets you scream. he encourages you to - pushes you to.

you feel his teeth graze your neck in the midst of his kisses and he nips lightly. you feel him tremble. you clench around his fingers, inching closer and closer toward your high when you hear a sharp intake of air followed by the bitter pinch of teeth sinking into your neck.

you scream out in pain, your pleasure having been short-lived as choso rips his hand from your legs. his teeth are still embedded into your skin as you writhe against his strong hold, seering blood dribbling from the point of puncturing.

you are befuddled, startled, before the terror grips you. choso breaks free, ripping from your skin as you wail. he tosses his head back, savoring the blood that lingers on his lips and stains his mouth down to his chest. his tongue darts out to collect the dribbling, oozing liquid, and when he lifts his head, you see a monster staring back at you with yellow eyes and razor sharp teeth.

"you taste delicious, my love."

it is the very last thing you hear him say before your world goes dark.

toji fushiguro: "let me out, baby..."

you know you aren't hallucinating.

you felt his life leave him, you watched the light fade from his eyes as he stared up at you, angered, aggrieved, missing the future you in his very last moments.

you held his head as his blood soaked into your clothes, drenching your hands and arms. you sobbed over him as his guts spilled from his left side.

you watched your boyfriend die.

so how is it possible now...

that you can hear him on the other side of the storage room door, banging mercilessly against the locked door, calling out for you over and over.

you stare in shock and terror as the sound of his fists pounding against wood echoes throughout the space, the door itself creaking and curving outward under the sheer force of his hands.

you know that strength. you know those hurried, impatient grunts, the passion entangled with every dangerous shout of your name through the barrier that keeps you rightfully separated. you know the hoarseness of that voice, the impatience, the power.

you know it to be toji fushiguro's. you know it to belong to the love of your life's, but your mind betrays you when the recent memory of his murder flashes across your brain. toji is dead. you watched him die. you are mourning him right now, so what the fuck is fighting against the door, working desperately to break free from the only space occupied by your dead man's body?

"(y/n)!" he bellows again, a throaty, rugged call... the call of an otherworldy being, not the call of the man you know. "(y/n)! i know you can hear me, girl! why ain't you answering me?"

goosebumps sprout over the entirety of your skin, and your pupils shrink and your eyes grow wide. your heart sinks to your stomach and suddenly, you can not breathe. you can not think. you can not hear anything happening around you except for toji.

except for his undead presence.

and suddenly, the urge to see him strikes like a bolt of lightning. you had locked him away, urging yourself to stay far from the reminder of what you and many others have lost. you had pushed back thoughts of burying him to be dealt with later, for you had sworn to yourself that the last time you had seen him was the final time.

but there he was, manifested in sound alone just beyond that door.

it could have been a trick. it could have been a hallucination.

either way, you know it's too good to be true, which is why you are so drawn to see, to check, to take him in one more time.

you take a cautious step forward, shiu's demands for you to step back falling into white noise behind you. you approach the door slowly as it bangs until you are right there before it.

you press your hand to the caving door carefully, ever so slowly, and a whisper brushes past your lips. "toji."

suddenly, the pounding stops. the door lay still, silent, and toji's shouts for you cease. the empty air rings in your ears as you wait for it to be occupied by something again, anything that could bring him back to you.

everything is painfully still until you hear heavy feet shuffle.

"dollface," he exhales into something resembling a relieved chuckle. you jolt, stunned by his response, for it can only mean that the sound - the presence of toji is in fact real before you.

and his voice, now steady and low, treading with a light silkiness that almost gives you whiplash due to its contrast from his previous snarls, shakes something within you.

"talk t'me, doll. i know you're there," he encourages after a moment of prolonged silence. you ache and give in, just as you always would have.

"hi toji," you shiver.

you can practically hear him grin. you can feel him behind the door through your head as he knocks his head against it. you imagine his arms supporting his weight as they prop above his head on either side of the frame.

"hey, darlin'. that's right. it's me, it's toji," he breathes out as though exasperated. his voice is pressed to the door, muffled against your ear as you ease into him as much as you safely can. "i know you heard me callin' ya. why didn't you answer?"

you sniffle, throat tightening and brows scrunching. "toji, you were dead," you hiss. "i held you."

"nah, nah," he denies the very reality you both lived, the reality you will relive for the rest of time. "nah, it was just a little scratch. that's all it was. y'know it takes a lot more than that to knock me out. i'm all better now."

"you bled out. that thing... it attacked you."

"like i said. a scratch. it scratched me, but i survived. i'm alive."

he sounds almost manic to you, swearing things you know to be untrue. speaking to you with his mouth to the wood, urging you to be convinced by the tautness in his low voice.

you shake your head, trusting what you saw though it kills you. "no," you whimper, rubbing your forehead against the ridges of the door. "no, toji. no."

"what're you crying for, huh? i'm right here."

"you're dead, toji," you break out a sob.

"cut that out. you hear me talkin' to ya. i'm good," he grumbles. you close your eyes, imagining his head pressing against yours, his hands holding your waist, his scent capturing you.

"i can't," you tell yourself, him.

"heyyy, it'll all be okay, (y/n). i know ya miss me. i'm right here, darlin'. go ahead and open the door so i can show ya. i don't want you cryin' no more."

you press your lips together, swallowing down your cries as your chest jerks and the tears flow once more.

"...(y/n)... let me out, baby. let me out so i can see ya."

a part of you wants to. a part of you allows your hand to fall onto the door knob and just hold it as you toyed with the thought of letting him take you, of letting this monster posing as your boyfriend tear you away from life the way toji was torn from his.

"soon as you let me out, i can take you outta here. how's that sound? we can go wherever y'want. get some food, pop open a beer, and i'll lay you down over th'counter just the way ya like it. i'll love on you real sweet. yeah? you want that? just open up, and you got it."

you can feel his patience dwindling, for you have nothing more you can say.

"(y/n). doll..."

speech suddenly fails you, and before you can blink, your heart is jumping and you're moved hastily away when the pounding abruptly resumes and knocks against your head.

"(y/n)! get me th'fuck out of here! open the door! (y/n)!!"

you assume it is shiu who has gripped your arm and yanked you back as toji's fists attempt to break into the wood. he yells, growls, screams your name once more, reminding you that toji is long gone.

ryomen sukuna: “I’m here to help…”

"get the fuck away from here."

the stranger’s response to your sudden attempt at taking initiative is the same it had been the three times you’d spoken to him prior - a low chuckle accompanied by the trace of his eyes over your body.

you knew something was wrong with him the second he appeared in the fog, like a shadow manifesting from thin air. he had an energy about him, one off putting and bone chilling, cold and unliving.

the second he asked for permission to step inside the club you've taken cover in, you knew for sure something was terribly wrong. you did not take this burly giant as one who would ask anyone for anything. considering his stature, in all his 6’5 glory, he would have very little trouble pushing his way through, past a woman much smaller than him.

this is a being that exudes power, pride. and he certainly was not asking if he could come in to be polite.

and you, tormented by the vision of him, grip a wooden stake tightly in your grasp as you raise it overhead, demonstrating that you will use it to strike on him at any moment you need to - though that is not necessarily a major concern right now, considering the fact that the salmon haired beast can not even walk through the door without your say so.

you are sure he finds it amusing how you grip onto the piece of wood for dear life anyhow, for it is the only thing giving you any sense of security now that your only sense of security is dead, manifested in expired flash as a devil come to haunt victims.

this stake is the only thing you can cling to, to keep from breaking down, to provide some mask of bravery hiding away a heartbroken, terrified victim of massacre.

"my, my," the vampire known to you now as sukuna muses, that condescending tone you’d accustomed to buttering his voice. "you’ve got such a temper, peach. what makes you believe you can get away with talking to me like that?"

"i mean it,” you try to be firm. “go. away. you’re not welcome here.”

“hmmm,” he hums, smirking at you from where he stands a few feet away. he tucks his hands into his dress pants pockets and quirks a brow, flickering a fiery glow in his eye solely to tease you. “that’s not very kind of you. i was hoping to partake in some of your celebration.”

your jaw clenches.

“why so tense, eh?” he pokes gently, crimson eyes beaming their way through the darkness. they appear as small red dots to you from where you reside, and your lips tighten. those eyes, they beam like a serpent’s, like a killer’s, and in turn your blood runs cold beneath their guise. “you must relax. i don't mean any distress."

his voice is dripping with something sinister, and you can tell that he enjoys this mind game he plays with you. he lives for it, for watching you doubt yourself as you pathetically hold up something that likely will not be strong enough to stop the likes of him on its own.

"bullshit," you scoff, turning up your nose. "i know what you're here for."

"yes, as i told you. to celebrate... you should have kept the music playing."

your breathing hastens. "no. no, i know what you are. this isn't about the music, it's about you killing people."

"oh, dear. what a beautiful fool you are," the tan skinned being simpers, fangs shining with his wicked grin. there is something almost sedating about him, as well as there is something intensely frightening.

the ease in which he carries himself with, as though every stride he takes is one he has taken before and memorized... like the very earth was made for him to walk on.

the gentle threat that hides in plain sight within his eerie tone. how it is laced with seductive venom.

the unwavering confidence instilled in him. it unnerves you so, how he trusts that he will get what he wants though you are standing before him and refusing it.

he is too cool and collected for the horror that you know him to be, and it messes with your mind. it has you second-guessing your gut.

"would you like to know something, woman?"

he takes a step forward, to which you involuntarily take a step back from. your movement seems to please him, as he continues with his approach. you ensure that a space still divides you as he strolls up to the doorway, the light from inside illuminating his features.

you see the blood staining his lips, that piercing glow in his eye, and the greatness of his presence, all the better now. you lower the stake slightly, subconsciously, and sukuna's pleasure doubles.

you frown. "i thought i told you to get away."

"those friends of yours," he begins in a hushed tone. your face drops, as you know he is referring to the people he has killed and turned that likely roam about the club in the dusk as you speak. crimson eyes study your paling skin, and the skin beneath his eyes crease with gentle, malicious delight. "particularly... the one with the hat."

you freeze, for you knew it was coming. you knew he was going to taunt you with those he took away from you, and now he does so by making you relive the moment he killed your partner.

he sees that he has struck a nerve, taking note of your glassy eyes, and he presses further, staring you directly in the eye. "mmm. yes. that one. who seemed to have a love for groveling at your feet."

a strike to your heart. "shut up."

"his thoughts... his mind is connected to mine, you see? now that he has joined me," he continues, smirk widening the further your face plummets. "would you like to know... what he thinks of you?"

"no. stop."

"all the sinful, aggregious things that you haven't let him get away with yet?"

"stop it. stop it now."

"did you know that he thinks you're a prude? holding out on him like that. denying him such pleasures."

you know what he is doing. he is trying to push you to the edge. to make you appeal to nonsensical anger for hope that if you snap, you will stupidly challenge him and invite him in.

you can see it, but you find yourself reacting to him and falling into his trap anyway.

you raise the stake high once more, a newfound frustration and anguish clear on your face. you're fueling his fire. you know you are, but you can not seem to stop. he will not let you.

"come, peach. you can not expect yourself to always be wound up this tight. it makes for a bad impression on your lover. look at you," he purrs. "look at how stiff you've allowed yourself to be."

you're body is burning. your thoughts are jumbling with anger, with heartbreak, with desire, with fear, and you do not know what to do but hold onto this stake as a devil picks you apart piece by piece without even touching you.

he has been doing this all night, pushing your buttons, trying to get you to break. you're exhausted. you feel heavy, like you can sink into the floor, and the persistent, alluring jab of this ancient creature is doing little to help you push through.

there is barely anyone left, and he sees that. he sees you. he's seen you since the very first moment he approached this establishment.

"would it not feel amazing to just let go for a moment and give me what i want?" he hums, something sharp flickering in his eye. "if you give in to me, your little friend will surely feel it on my behalf."

his words break you. it is still hours from morning, and you can not take much more of this torment. you are tired. you feel unstable and violent, and you want to give in though you know you will lose.

your lips curl into a tight grimace as you glare ahead with wild eyes, watching the very moment sukuna knows that he has won.

[getouyuri]

bite the hand that feeds

✞ pairing — vampire!geto x gn!reader

summary — “i want you to eat well. i want you to be full.” or, suguru has denied himself human blood his entire fledgling life. sitting back and watching him self-destruct just won’t do.

✞ content & warnings — SFW but MDNI, gender neutral reader, hurt and comfort, angst, fluff, suggestive themes and content, modern au, vampire au, pet names, bartender!geto, geto is in his 30’s, starvation, blood drinking, bloodlust, mildly possessive behavior, the intricacies of vampire morality and guilt and ethics, religious undertones and imagery, masochist!reader, aftercare, doting geto

author's note — decided to revamp (lmao) an old fic that i published for a different fanbase… hashtag recycle hashtag reuse. i even made a 2nd spotify account to share this playlist for it if you wanna listen while reading 😭 this fic was already very dear to me but now it’s even more so w/ this geto version, so I hope you all enjoy this as much as I do!! 🫶🏽 masterlist

writing © getouyuri. fanart © kayluvshie. dividers © bbyg4rlhelps. wc: 9.1k.

“Baby,” You call again, lips downturned.

Suguru merely hums but doesn’t otherwise show a sign of life, the vampire swaying in place in the kitchen and eyes glazed over like freshly fired ceramic. You have to rise from your perch on the armrest of the divan in order to make his dazed gaze settle somewhere in your direction, but he isn’t really seeing you— his dimmed irises threaten to slide right through your very much corporeal body.

That only serves to make your frown more pronounced.

Since the second Suguru silently slipped through the door with his decorated keychain, fresh from a grueling shift at the bar, you immediately knew that something was wrong. Your instincts told you that it had nothing to do with him smelling of a sticky alcohol that he didn’t consume, the scent nearly masking the remnants of his jasminey cologne.

Suguru looked oddly disheveled and worn down, a far cry from the usual quiet confidence and composure that fills out the frame of the vampire, and was slow to respond as he absentmindedly picked through the pantry.

He was trying to find something to satiate the cravings that were surely making his blood sing, but the hunger was scrambling him beyond repair. You had to jolt forward when Suguru didn’t react fast enough to catch the dried mangos that his shaking hands had knocked to the side.

All of your earlier attempts at questions about his day were answered by incomprehensible murmurs. You hovered uselessly behind him until you finally turned, retreating to the living room with further concerns mounting on top of the already growing pile. Suguru had remained, planting himself in the kitchen amidst the sprawling ivy and potted ferns.

Your concern only fuels your persistence, though, and after you had given Suguru a few more minutes of time— in which he ended up doing nothing but stare at the appliances on the countertop— you think to try again.

“Baby,” You repeat, softening your voice into a coo. You practically creep over, socked feet making a scuffing noise as you drag them across the carpet, then the tile of the kitchen. You keep your hands slightly raised in a placating matter as if approaching a cornered animal— an unpredictable predator.

You think that you may as well be with the way Suguru stares at you with blood-red eyes, slowly swiping his tongue over his lips. It makes you shiver.

You’ve done your fair share of research, having taken to hitting the books (which really means the internet… and admittedly, a few vampire romance novels), boldly showing up at his mother’s door with questions, and simply observing him in the four corners of your shared home.

To someone like Suguru, considered undead from the moment he was reborn into this world by a stray vampire that got their claws in him when he was younger, blood— especially human blood— was essential. A necessity, like water was to humans, to the soil and the plants and the birds.

You’ve noticed something, though. Suguru drives fear into himself— the fear of what that knowledge, the taste of human blood, would do to him. If it would consume him, desire and hunger rotting him from the inside out as Suguru kept it from morphing into what he thinks will be an uncontrollable bloodlust. He denies himself his biggest necessity, the one that lined his very being.

You heard it from the lips of his mother himself, whose tiredly-etched face had been tipped down to her special blend of tea as you conversed during an impromptu brunch.

Mei’s a beautiful woman. You can see where your boyfriend got his almost wraithly elegance in those lavender-hued eyes that exude a calm that drugs you, her black hair that swings over her shoulder in a long braid. That signature Geto smile that she gives you as she pours you your own cup.

But she’s weathered in a way that Suguru isn’t and will never be, forever trapped in a body that cannot age. He’ll never have the crow’s feet that crinkle her eyes just so. The silvery streaks crowning her head. The plumpness of her hips and her neck that her slowing metabolism brings about. The slow decay of self.

“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of tea. Not wanting to waste her time, you dive right into the nitty gritty. “I’m hoping you can give me some insight on the whole… Suguru thing. He survives off of animal blood just fine, but I know it’s not enough to sustain him for good. Like, at all. I’ve taken a shot at the more obvious reasons as to why he’s adamant about abstaining from human blood in conversations with him, but…”

Mei waits patiently. Your shoulders wilt. “He just doesn’t see that I’m worried about his health. I feel like a bad partner for not being able to help him or get through to him.”

The older woman sets her teacup down with a quiet clink, her expression softening with understanding. She exhales a gentle sigh as she reaches across the table to squeeze the top of your clenched fist.

"You’re not a bad partner, dear. Far from it. And Suguru loves you with his whole heart," Mei reassures, her voice fond but tinged with something heavier—something like grief. “That boy… Suguru’s always been stubborn when it comes to his ideals. He clings to them like they’re his lifeline."

A flicker of bittersweetness and a shadow of something else crosses her features before she continues, "Even as a little boy, he was like that— always putting others before himself, always worrying about being a burden or punishing himself for things beyond his control.”

You purse your lips and trace the rim of your cup. Her eyes follow your fingertips. “Tell me about it,” you quip quietly, earning a twinkling of laughter from her.

But then she sighs, long and weary. It feels like her exhaustion passes to you, for you suddenly feel bone-tired. Helplessly so. “I do think you could get through to him, though. You’re different from me. You’re not his mother. You’re someone that’s chosen him over and over again, connected by a love that you’ve forged together rather than by blood ties. He’ll always see my offers as ones born from maternal obligation.”

“Just because I’m not family doesn’t mean he’ll fold,” you bemoan even though you see her point. You’re just frustrated and a little lost— and trying to figure out how to ask her about how this all started without being overly blunt.

You don’t even know if Mei would be comfortable with sharing such a private piece of information, let alone how Suguru himself would feel if you asked him. When he mentioned his turning to you during a casual conversation, he breezed over it as if discussing the weather. All he said was that he was turned when he was young, and that he’d live with this new change. Would have to live with it.

That made it sound incredibly depressing. Which it was.

She doesn’t even need to say anything. The purposely pregnant pause that follows and the look she gives you is a glaring scarlet letter— you can practically hear her scoffed ‘you’re very obviously part of our family’ that she’s too polite to let spill.

Still, she comments on it regardless. Mei picks her words like they’re little cherries. “You’re family in every way that counts. But you know that.” Another slow sip of her tea, the silver bangles on her wrist jingling softly.

“When Suguru was turned... he was so young. My baby was barely nine— just a child forced to grapple with instincts he barely understood, desperate and terrified. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, not even the man who turned him. Suguru clearly doesn’t trust what he might awaken in himself if he indulges in human blood. He holds onto the fear that he’ll lose control and hurt the people he loves.”

Mei raises her eyebrows, silently encouraging you to take notes. You sit up a little straighter, heart picking up, leaning towards her like a flower greeting the spring sun.

"Normally I’d say that it’s best not to push and instead let him come to you. Clearly, though, he’s willing to wait us all out until the end of time. Considering that… I’d wager your best bet is this— strike when the iron is hot. When you offer your aid, make sure he knows you’re offering because you want to and that it’s your choice. Never because you pity him. Show him that it’s safe to accept something that you want to give to him and that he can trust in everything being alright.”

You had silently taken this in, thanked Mei upon leaving a few hours after you shared brunch with her, and trotted on home with bags of Mei’s tea to make for Suguru.

There’s been a few incidents where you offered up your forearms whenever Suguru’s stashes started to run dry. Your willingness to satiate his appetite made the vampire instantly round on you with a blend of fear and concern that rivaled the intensity of a thousand desert suns.

Animal blood, he promised, was enough and would have to be enough to tide him over. He would not let you come to harm for something he considered unnecessary. You still think it peculiar.

Suguru acted as though instinct was as taboo as the cardinal sins. Suguru acted as though feeding from you was like leading not one but two lambs to their untimely slaughter.

You haven't tried to serve Suguru your blood on a silver platter since, instead choosing to wait for the right moment. Now, with your conversation with his mother still fresh on your mind and Suguru blinking slowly, exhaustion heavy on his eyelids as he cranes his neck to look at you, you think this may be it.

“You can’t keep holding your hunger at bay like this. It’s unhealthy, Suguru.”

One hand goes to the cold stone of the counter and the other tentatively lands on the slope of his shoulder. You rub at his shoulder consolingly. Suguru’s tongue peeks out once more, the same color as the soft gummy pink of a wolf’s mouth seconds before it strikes, and you watch a tremble race through him.

“I’m fine, and I’m well, and I will continue to be so,” Suguru defends himself at last after a drawn out silence that made your skin prickle with the beginnings of fear of already fucking this up. He’s almost struggling to fashion the words together, slurring just barely. His eyes glide down to your hand and burn through you as if spotting the veins beneath your skin, but he doesn’t shrug you off.

You’re immediately thrown— when Suguru gets into a starved state like this, his nature crying out for human blood only to be barely kept at bay by the tanginess of an animal’s, he retreats into himself and shies away from everyone, even Mei and Satoru and Shoko, even you.

Now, though, he just seems… resigned. None of the usual testiness and attempts at self-isolation when Suguru yearns for salvation rears its head. The concern heavy in your stomach like a stone slices further into your insides the longer he lets you stay close.

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know that,” you point out, as you’ve done time and time again whenever the topic of Suguru’s hunger crops up and he tries to dodge it with the grace of someone that’s dodged way too many misdirected swings from drunks at the bar he works at while trying to break up fights. “You need more than just the blood of animals.”

His shapely eyebrows slant with the beginnings of an uncharacteristic scowl. There’s that hangriness, you think humorlessly. “It does its job,” Suguru shoots back, a warning laced into his tone. With barely a glance at you, he turns away, his dismissal coming out short. “Save your breath. I’m about to eat.”

Your hand naturally falls from him when your boyfriend crouches to flick open the cupboards beneath the counter. Your fingers curl midair, wanting to bend down and reach out to him, but your arm drops to your side.

Suguru pulls out the wedge at the top of his small ice-box and frowns when he’s greeted with crinkled, blood-sprinkled packets. You watch Suguru yank out the fullest (a very generous word, considering it only holds a puddle) and rises back up, his shoulder brushing against you like a cat greeting another.

“Will that be enough?” You press.

You know it isn’t; far from it, in fact. Suguru knows that too.

He opens it anyways with a firm nod, the tightness between his brows smoothing out at the first scent of blood. Your body betrays him, and your heart, already thumping a few beats too fast, races faster. Suguru glances at you, at the pulse that thrums heavy beneath your jaw, and wraps his lips around the opening.

Oh, Christ.

Suguru drinks. Feeds. He pushes the blood up to the rim of the packet with massaging thumbs, wringing and coaxing every drop towards his mouth. You’re reminded of the near-empty bottle of toothpaste you share that you’ve pointlessly been stringing out even though it should’ve been tossed a week ago.

His throat visibly catches when he trickles it onto his tongue. Within seconds, he gulps it all down, left practically panting with how fast he knocks it back. Your attention never leaves his lips.

“See?” He tosses the mangled packet into the trash and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Blood smears just below his bottom lip and he swipes his tongue over it, then licks at the remnants on his teeth.

You feel strangely faint, like you’ve been wrung just as dry. You think it inexplicable– the feeling that drums through you every time you witness Suguru ingest blood– but you know its meaning. Even humans have their vices, as odd as they may be.

“I’ve had my fill,” Suguru reassures you the longer you continue to stare unblinkingly like you’ve just bluescreened, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than he is you. You catch the flash of his canines as he speaks and you swallow instinctively.

The vampire must realize his face says as much, so he clears his throat and crouches again to toss the packet, forcing the wedge back into the box. Suguru stands and decisively kicks the cabinet shut. The soft bang rattles you into action.

“Somehow,” you begin, voice blessedly calm, “I don’t believe that to be the case.”

“Doll—“

“It’s never enough, is it?” Surprisingly, Suguru doesn’t retort. Instead, he purses his lips. He looks a tiny bit better with what he had ingested, but he still looks worn. His unblemished skin runs unnaturally dry. “That packet held barely enough blood in it to be considered an appetizer, let alone a full meal. You’re surviving, baby. Not living. You know that.”

Suguru’s continued silence speaks volume. He’s exhausted. He’s hungry, but not irreversibly so. A solution sits warm on the horizon, and you, willing to do anything if it means your beloved will be healthy and happy and satisfied and full, hold the sun out to Suguru in the palm of your hands.

“Your reserves are completely depleted. In your current state, weak as you are, you know that there’s no way you can go out and hunt either.” A huff escapes you, laden with concern. “And, just as well, you know that I’m more than willing to quench your thirst with my own blood.”

“Why are you so eager to offer yourself up, knowing that I’ll only hurt you?” Suguru suddenly snaps. Some of his lucidity returns to him as his annoyance and desperation mounts. Ozone seems to come out of nowhere like a distant fog rolling in over the hills, crackling, blanketing the air over you until it’s so thick that you nearly choke on it.

He tosses his hands in the air in an uncharacteristic burst of frustration, the sharp movement a far cry from the elegant grace he carries himself with. A gently placed hand on your hip to slowly coax you to melt into the security of his side, a slow-moving pace when at your side as if he has all the time in the world to revel in it with you.

Careful. Controlled.

That’s not what that was, though.

Before you can comment on it or stare wide-eyed at him for a second longer, Suguru’s lowering his arms. Smoothing a hand through his glossy dark tresses, he lowers his gaze to collect himself.

“I’ve survived without it for years just fine.” Suguru’s voice wavers, just barely. He sounds desperate. “There’s no need to add further blood to my hands. Not yours.”

“Lemme repeat something you’ve said to me before then. In pain, there is love, and in love, there is pain,” you answer simply. You shift, intending to draw him close, but his hand instantly catches around your wrist when you go to reach out for him. “And that blood? You’re not ripping it from me. I’d be giving it to you willingly. It’d be my choice.”

You stare at each other, your irises meeting purple ones as Suguru keeps you at bay. There’s thinly veiled terror in his eyes, terror at what he himself could do should you get closer. Your pulse staccatos beneath Suguru’s thumb.

“Let me say this—“

“You’ve been doing nothing but saying this and that. Is speaking your favorite pastime?” Suguru cuts in snarkily.

“Suguru. C’mon now.”

He purses his lips as his deflection is knocked aside. The nail of his pointer scrapes against the skin of your arm. “Sorry. Yeah. Go on.”

“Let me say this,” you repeat, smiling for only a moment before it fades. Your thoughts of months past coalesce on your tongue, turning everything that tumbles out raw. “I worry about you. I worry about you just as much as you worry about me. It’s not out of pity; it’s all love.” You steadily curl your hand around Suguru’s wrist until you’re interlinked. Watching his face carefully, you lift your tangled grip until your lips skate across his knuckles.

“If I have to experience even a little bit of pain to see you healthy, then so be it. I trust you. I trust the control you have over yourself, and I know that you’re not gonna drain me dry and leave me for dead.”

Against all rationale, you think you wouldn’t mind it. If Suguru wanted your bones, organs, your bleeding heart cradled in the palms of his hands and wanted to keep taking more and more, you would give it all to him.

No hesitation. No request for anything in return. Just unwavering devotion.

“You’ve managed what, like, more than twenty years without human blood? But can you withstand another ten without it? Twenty?” You hold the back of Suguru’s hand to your mouth as if whispering it against his skin will make your concern sink in, nestle itself into the marrow of his bones. “The last thing I wanna see is the one I love deteriorate in front of me. You think I want that?”

You swear Suguru’s bottom lip quivers. You know that resonates a little too much. You didn’t really want to strike at the whole ‘hey, I’m painfully mortal and you’re immortal so you’re bound to leave me behind’ topic, but you don’t have many other options. “Angel…”

“Suguru, just listen to me,” you stress, interrupting. “You’re not some beast or sinner for being hungry, and you shouldn’t punish yourself as if you’re either one,” you murmur, voice gone sweet even as Suguru grips your wrist tight. His palm burns against your skin, icy-hot and firm. Shackling you in place, tying you down to the plate of a teetering scale. You wonder if you’re damning you both. “Don’t let your morals hinder your instincts. I want to help you, so take what you want from me. I can handle it.”

Suguru’s mouth parts, as if catching the scent of your truthfulness and letting it sit on his tongue. He ruminates for only a minute, then slowly, his grip slackens until his hold becomes a gentle tether. You take the opportunity to rock towards him, a boat to a dock, and he steps in closer to hold you by the forearms as if you were the one close to crumpling from thirst.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Suguru warns. His nostrils flare.

When you give him a look, repeating everything you had voiced with only your eyes, Suguru meets you stride for stride, struggling to stay stony-faced. His eyes keep flicking to your neck, the smooth expanse of your skin peeking out from beneath the rolled-up sleeves of your cream sweater that he bought for you, as if watching the blood course through you.

“Seriously, doll. I don’t…” he licks his lips. “Neither of us know how I will react the second your blood falls on my tongue, nor do I think I want to find out. I don’t enjoy the thought of hurting you.”

A sweet sentiment— entirely unnecessary, though.

You glance over Suguru again. You take in the glassines of his eyes that threatens to drown them both in his yawning desire, the almost sickly quality to his skin, and gods above— you think for the thousandth time that you’d do anything to relieve even a fraction of the wrongness and hunger that Suguru must feel.

“Set aside your burdens for me to take on and lemme worry about the consequences. All you gotta do is focus on what you need, and I’ll handle the rest.”

You briefly close your eyes and the words burn sharper than fire-water as they crawl up your throat— “Although I don’t want to see you destroy yourself, I’ll respect your wishes and drop the subject entirely if you deny me. Again. This has and will always be in your hands, Suguru. You’re the only one who can decide this for yourself. I’m just giving you… another option, one that’ll always be on the table.”

Suguru simply dips his head after a moment’s deliberation, voice solemn. “I appreciate your words.”

I appreciate your words— the choice to come to his own decision. He speaks with the weight of someone who has rarely been dealt the cards that he has wanted; being attacked, ‘killed,’ reborn again as something he never wished to be, every time that the old management of the bar he works at pulled his leash taut and ground him underfoot whenever he strayed too close to their spoils before he fought tooth and claw to rework it from the foundations and up.

Not for the first time, you want to dig up the strings of fate and rip and shred them thread by thread until you can weave it all into something kinder for Suguru.

The silence that stretches thin between you starts to feel like a dismissal. Resigning yourself to the nth refusal, you begin to tactfully back off. Suguru reaches for you before he can put more distance between you two.

“Sorry. That wasn’t a no— I was just trying to collect my thoughts.” Suguru lets go of you. The lingering ozone in the air finally snuffs out, and you feel like you can breathe proper lungfuls again. “You’re right. I know you are, angel.” Suguru’s lips part so sweetly around the pet name creased with care and use; a folded-up letter from a lover.

“Really?” You utter blankly, the ball of your foot still off the ground from your aborted step backwards.

Suguru levels you with a disbelieving gaze. “What did you think your little speech would do? Roll off of my back?”

“Can you blame me for thinking so?” You retort, thinking of your previous attempts, the small hints you’ve scattered at Suguru’s feet only for them to get swept away. You settle your full weight back onto the floorboards.

“I’ve been… dismissive about it before,” Suguru admits; that’s the best you’ll get out of him for sure. “To be honest, I’ve found myself considering drinking from you for the last month or two, but I still had my doubts and reservations,” he near-mumbles, then. He crosses his arms and scrunches his nose. “But I needed that extra push.”

The vampire keeps one arm pressed to his chest and rubs at his temple. “I’ve been apprehensive about this since the day my life was flipped on itself. You know that.”

“I do.”

“And you’re truly just… not worried?”

“Not particularly, no.”

He searches your expression. “I just want to make sure that you’re certain and not doing this because you think you owe it to me.” Suguru speaks carefully.

You blow out a sigh through your nose. “My silly Suguru. I’ve always been sure, especially when it comes down to your health being at stake. I never say things that I don’t mean.”

Suguru surprisingly— or unsurprisingly, really, given his track-record of picking off of Satoru’s stupid puns— cracks a small smile at that. “At stake, huh?”

“Don’t.” You catch on immediately with a groan. You wipe a hand down your face to hide the uptick of your lips. Some degree of relief at Suguru’s quip fills you despite your amused exasperation.

Emboldened and hopeful, you press yourself against Suguru. His shoulder is solid against your own. “So,” you prod, light and airy, “if your answer isn’t a no, then what is it?”

Suguru hums under his breath, presses his weight back against you. Purple irises crawl skywards. “I guess it’s a yes.” He points at you before you can utter a loud woop, but your budding smile speaks volumes. “If this goes wrong, this will never happen again. Literally never.”

“Say,” you drawl, mind already wandering off five steps ahead even as a vicious relief unspools from your chest and spreads through your body at his yes, “hypothetically, if all goes well, would you continue to feed from me? Like, habitually?”

“Provided you don’t taste gross, yes.”

“What the— hey!” You cry, openly giggling at the shade. “You’re so meaaaan, Suguru. Don’t knock it until you try it. I’m sure I taste a billion times better than animal blood.” Squinting, you rub your chin. “… what does it even taste like, anyways?”

Suguru visibly shudders a little. “Depends on what kind,” he says, voice thick as if growing nauseous. Or being haunted by something particularly disturbing. “It’s usually really… chalky. Muddy and kinda sour, too. Imagine swallowing a whole cloth that was used to wipe up vomit.”

The flavor that immediately tries to replicate itself on your tongue makes your face screw up in disgust. “Okay, ew.” You tug at his arm, glancing towards the nearest divan. “Let’s sit down for this.”

Suguru follows along with an amused huff. Your linked arms lightly swing between your bodies. “I’m beginning to suspect that you have a little more stake in this than one of a concerned lover.”

“Drop that word, will you?” You snort.

Suguru flashes you a real, genuine grin at the noise. It’s toothy, revealing a fleeting glimpse of unnaturally sharp canines. “Well?”

Thoughts of Suguru’s fangs have chased you to work, to lunch breaks, to your doorstep, your dreams. Going from peacefully sleeping through the night for a majority of your life to waking up in a cold sweat with an imprint of Suguru against the inside of your eyelids, poised over your prone body with fangs kissing your throat, proved to be a very jarring wake-up call.

Would it hurt? You asked yourself over a glass of water that you poured himself in the middle of the night after one such dream with shaking hands. Would you enjoy it? The heat that settled decisively in your gut as you leaned against the counter and stared at the moon spoke for itself. You’ve always been intrigued, both in an intellectual, genuinely inquisitive way— and in a how would those fangs of his feel on my jugular? way.

Despite your traitorous mind, you’ve always put Suguru and his values first. Your feelings and interest in the matter have always been only an aside.

You have no shame in voicing any of this, but, well. You’re sure Suguru knows somehow, anyways. You clear your throat. “Consider me curious.”

“Ah, curiosity,” Suguru drags his voice out honey-slow, clearly amused. When you sigh dramatically, long-suffering, he raises his eyebrows and herds you closer to the divan until your legs graze its edge. Your heart thrills. “A person’s weapon, vice, and downfall. Would I be right to assume that there’s more cards on the table than just that?”

Those purple eyes sweep over you. You childishly avert your own and don't grace him with an answer.

“I want you on your back, angel,” Suguru orders in the next beat, his tone switching tracks so rapidly that it leaves you reeling. A delicious thrill licks up your spine. “And still.”

Embarrassingly, your body already began to run hot the second Suguru’s fangs flashed through your head again, so you’re quietly grateful that you need to shed your sweater to make room for Suguru. You wiggle it off, not missing the appreciation that curls Suguru’s lips, and sling it over the back of the furniture.

Satisfied, Suguru lays a gentle hand on your chest and towers over you. You follow his guidance and obediently sink back until you’re practically splayed out, a butterfly pinned to a corkboard, completely at his mercy.

Memories of Suguru tracking you down the street by scent alone to give you your wallet that you left behind at the bar that he works at swims through your head. That was your first meeting. Every whisper of cloth, every subtle brush of shoes against the ground had your heart pounding until you jumped with a shriek when he abruptly grabbed your wrist from behind, giving you an apologetic smile when you whipped around.

You know what it is to be hunted, intimately so.

But nothing compares to being caught.

Not when Suguru collars you so sweetly, measuring out your demise in spoonfuls of sugar; a hand with sharp fingernails ghosting along the newly exposed skin of your shoulders, his purple eyes trickling down your body like a stream, the gentle but grounding weight of him settling onto your lap like he belongs there, trapping you beneath him.

Oh, you think, feeling terribly like prey. Oh.

Suguru slips his arms beneath your own and his hands land on your lower back to feel your warmth that he latches onto. He cradles you close like a boa, all tightly wound power, curling around you and enveloping you in nothing but Suguru.

He’s fucking freezing against you. Unnaturally so— yet, you suppose, it’s natural for him considering his vampiric constitution. His body runs even colder with the beginnings of starvation. You’re sure that if you carved out a space between his ribs, squirreling yourself away into the alcove next to Suguru’s heart that his ribs protect, even his insides would run frigid enough to eternally preserve you both.

You both exhale when Suguru ducks down to peck your nose, raven locks spilling down his shoulders and around you like a veil of safety that promises his attention is on nothing but you. Then he tucks his face into your neck, lips brushing over your pulse point.

Your heartbeat flutters wildly beneath your skin like a caged animal and you know that Suguru can feel it thrumming eagerly at his mouth. He says nothing of it, but you hear his breath come quicker.

“Just… shove me off if I somehow can’t stop myself,” Suguru murmurs into you. You nod a little, mostly to placate him, and tilt your head back in invitation.

“I trust that it won’t come to that. You should have more faith in yourself,” you sigh back. You gently squeezes his waist, then run your touch down the leg caging in your own. “Now stop stalling with your needless worrying. Everything will be fine.”

“I’m not stalling.” Suguru sounds a smidge petulant at being read like an open book, but there’s an undercurrent of amusement to his tone. “Can I not take a minute to savor this moment?”

“There’ll be plenty of other moments like this for you to savor in the future,” you point out with a confident puff of your chest, pleased by the fact you can say so knowing that your words possibly hold water, but you go quiet and indulgently rub at Suguru’s thigh. He huffs out a laugh, and the first whisper of incisors nicking at you as Suguru’s lips part around a smile makes you shudder.

“I won’t remind you again that this will hurt. But this is your last chance to back out,” he warns.

“I have no plans of doing so.” Your voice is breathier than you intended it to be. “Have you had your fill? I know you’re enjoying yourself, but I’d hate to be kept waiting.”

“My baby is such a nuisance.” Suguru laughs. His shoulders shake with it, bright and airy. “Use some of that patience of yours and wait.”

And you do. Suguru’s fingers curl into your side. You almost wish you had a mirror nearby, if only to watch the way Suguru noses at you, breathing in slowly as he searches for a place to sink his teeth into. Languidly, he laps at the junction between your neck and shoulder, slicking the delicately thin skin with spit.

For a beat, there’s nothing from him. His breathing settles and goes near-silent, as if he’s been lulled into a trance, until you can only hear your own. The chimes at the kitchen window jingle. You feel and hear Suguru’s jeans chafe beneath your palms when you flex your hands. You sit still, patiently and impatiently.

Teeth eventually poke at your skin, like they’re asking you to make way. You suck in an anticipatory breath, Suguru whispers a low “relax, I’ve got you always,” and his fangs finally slide home.

His mouth fully seals itself against your neck as he breaks the skin with ease and lets blood rush forth. You register the odd sensation of being impaled by fangs— it’s kind of like being struck by a needle, only they have more pressure behind them— seconds before the sharpness of them kicks at your senses like a jackrabbit. You tighten with surprise and Suguru’s quick to soothe you with a gentle squeeze at your side; another relax before he hungrily swallows his first mouthful with a satisfied noise.

You aren’t sure if Suguru’s utilizing some secret vampiric trick that allows him to sedate his prey or if it’s simply the trust you have in him, but regardless, you slowly unwind beneath him. First your fingers, which had somehow twisted into Suguru’s pants so hard that your knuckles surely went white with the force of it, then your shoulders, neck, the rest of your body gradually unthawing— the same way the coolness of him begins to unthaw as he draws in your warmth.

Your body submits to his needs without hesitation. You know he could drain you dry if he wanted to (hell, part of you admires that he could) but, feeling completely safe, you just focus on the way he gratefully melts into you.

An oddly soothing feeling seizes you in wake of the fading stiffness. It flows molten through your veins, pools heavily where those blade-sharp teeth dig into you. It clouds your head and makes your eyelashes flutter. There’s a warmth to it that feels strangely good, overwhelmingly so.

All people are a little bit mad. It just so happens that you’ve never been an exception to that fact of life.

Once you gather yourself enough you try to focus on the vampire on top of you. Fine trembles wrack Suguru, noticeable enough that you can feel each one vibrating off of him. You take a steadying breath and stay stock still, wondering if he’s alright— until a broken, muffled noise slips from him.

Your hand darts for Suguru’s hair before you can use your brain. Wincing, you unceremoniously drag Suguru’s teeth from your skin with your heart lodged in your throat. Blood drips from the wound unconstrained, the smell stinging at the fine hairs of your nostril.

All you can think is that maybe, just maybe, you’ve made a grave error. Did you just ruin what you have with him? Was Suguru losing it? Was he disgusted? You have no fucking clue.

A glassy sheen marches across Suguru’s hauntingly beautiful plum-rich eyes the second they open and land on you. He looks beyond wrecked, spit and blood clinging to his bottom lip and eyes wild despite their far-away look. His deceptively soft mouth glistens, crimson; fangs stark white and like marble that’s been sharpened into the spear point shape of blades.

Your mouth parts as you stare up at him, chest heaving. You don't know what suddenly possesses you but your hands curl tighter into Suguru’s long soft hair, an incoherent mumble falls from you, and the rest of it gets swallowed up by his mouth as you drag your bodies impossibly more flush until it’s hard to remember where you end and where he begins. Only then do you kiss him.

The flats of your teeth click with how fast you descend upon each other and it stings and you do not care and you want, want, want—

Suguru’s sinful tongue slots into your mouth with a noise that crawls into the hollow of your ears and destroys you from the inside out. The taste of metallic blood— your blood— that he shares with you should disgust you to no end, but you hungrily lick along the silkiness of Suguru’s mouth to get at more of it. You part for a breath and Suguru snaps his teeth at your bottom lip in mockery of the deeper bite on your neck. Brain fizzling, you eagerly arch up to kiss him again.

Holy shit. Your thoughts buoy back to you, tied down by the tiny strings that keep your mind from floating up to join the singular cobweb blanketing a corner of the roof.

There was something incredibly, deeply intimate about letting your lover swallow down your blood, more so than you thought it would be. Suguru has you lining the softness of his throat, filling the hole in his stomach that has ached for two decades that felt longer for him than they did you. You satiate Suguru’s unquenched hunger with all of yourself.

You groan.

He drags his lips down your cheek, your jaw, chases the scent of your blood further down your neck like a bloodhound and damn near growls. “Little more.” Teeth sink back into your skin with a vengeance but never once does it feel too rough, too painful, and you squeeze your eyes shut, breathing out a sigh as you continue to let Suguru take what he so rightfully deserves. He swallows; savoring rather than devouring.

“Good,” you choke out. “That’s okay. Take your fill, baby.”

You can practically feel how his mind, usually so disciplined, teeters dangerously close to frenzy at your words—but the soft press of your fingers through his hair anchors him. Despite his desperation that swells even further, it remains checked. He flicks the flat of his tongue out to lap up each wet rush of pumping blood with an intense desire that makes your insides do cartwheels.

(For the first time in his life, Suguru understands why drunks lose themselves to their bottles, why vampires lose themselves to bloodlust. It’s euphoric. It’s agony. He wants more. He wants to bury himself so deep in the heat of your veins that he forgets what it means to be anything but ravenous.

The taste is nothing like the animal blood he convinced himself to survive on without ever truly satisfying himself. It sweetens his tongue like cherry wine. This is ambrosia, thick and metallic and alive. It crashes against every neglected corner of his being in gentle waves, filling up that monstrous hollow that threatens to be his ruin. With how good he abruptly feels, Suguru thinks he could almost mistake himself for a human again.

But there’s guilt there, too— his conscience clawing at him despite the pleasure surging through him. Just this once, though, he lets himself indulge— and dream of a future where this is your new normal. Quiet moments in bed where he sucks gently from your wrist or forearm between kisses that he presses there, gazing at you as if wondering how on earth such a flawed being like himself could be touched to his core by someone as special as you.

You trust him. This is you giving him something no one else ever has. Every appreciative swallow is a revelation and a promise, every pulse of your blood against his tongue a brand-new addiction. The sweetest of sins that he’d willingly die once more for.)

Suguru drinks you down like a mortal laying their lips to a goblet of nectar— quickly, messily, greedily, blood pooling too fast for his lips to catch. A tendril of it slowly spools down your neck, catching in the dip of your collarbone. You’re near dizzy with it, but you think Suguru dizzier with the way his lips lazily smush against the skin of your neck as if inebriated.

“I want you to eat well,” you murmur against the side of Suguru’s head, breath puffing over the shell of his ear. He jerks against you, just slightly, and you have to suck your teeth to keep from groaning. “I want you to be full.”

A honeyed melody drips from Suguru’s lips, returning to your skin. Feed, feed, feed, your very blood a siren-song. Suguru kneels over you, swaying, drunk on you, before sobering enough to sink down and lick his spoils back up with a greedy tongue.

He follows the steady stream down to your collarbone, lapping what strayed from the punctures, before returning to the wound with shuddering breaths. Suguru sinks his teeth back in to keep the blood pooling, and this time, you’re the one who jerks. Your hips kick up and you jostle you both.

You can’t hold back the noise you make at the pleasure-pain blossoming like a dragonfruit that’s been shredded into with a knife and left to bleed its juices freely and the way Suguru rolls down against you, almost unthinkingly. Your hands somehow find their way to Suguru’s hair and tangle into the dark strands. He hisses through his mouthful of skin and blood, and you find that you’ve never felt this awed and turned on in your entire life.

“Shit.” Shit. A shudder sings through you in a hot-flash. Words slip between your fingers faster than you can think them. All you know is Suguru. “Suguru.”

He keens in response. Unlatching himself, he’s quick to groan out “Jesus Christ,” all raspily before dipping back down and lapping over you again. You let loose another curse and drag your hands over every crevice of his body, futilely trying to hold onto him for dear life.

You lose yourself to the pull of blood between teeth, the shuddering grind you find yourselves falling into. Time rolls into a small disjointed ball. The fog settled over you starts to take on a different shape. Your neck painfully throbs like a drum, beating faster and faster until the cacophony drowns out all sound, forcing all of your senses to lock onto the overwhelming scent of copper filling your lungs. You claw at his back in prayer.

“Okay,” you manage to wheeze out when it finally becomes too much, voice cracking on the last syllable as your vision washes black. Blearily, you wonder if Suguru can even hear you over the roar of blood as it races through your veins— hell, if he even wants to hear you, but Suguru instantly unfastens himself from the wound with a wet, sticky pop.

The pressure that clung fierce to your skin lets up all at once, and you choke on your stumbling breaths. Your head tips forward dangerously. You think you black out to the sound of Suguru’s labored breaths and panicked mutterings, because when everything filters back in, Suguru’s inhales and exhales are a little more slower, relaxed.

You’re tilted slightly to the side as if you started to tip over and got caught. You drink in the weight of your partner still sitting astride your hips for a moment before gently bumping your forehead against Suguru’s collarbone to alert him to your returning consciousness.

“Hey,” Suguru murmurs, voice rumbling pleasantly near your ear.

“Give me a moment,” you rasp, near apologetic. Suguru merely cups the back of your head in response, promising his presence and patience.

With that, you let yourself soak in the sensations and smells of your shared house for a while longer as you recuperate, then you take stock of yourself. You feel incredibly lightheaded, but not a drop of regret darkens the calm waters of your thoughts. You slowly drag a hand through sweaty hair and find that there’s blood beneath your nails when you go to drop your hand back down.

You stare at the scarlet flakes that fall from them like petals and have to close your eyes at the sight. The phantom sensation of your fingers digging into Suguru’s back makes the tendons in your palm grow stiff.

“Did I hurt you?” You croak, a wave of guilt slamming into you. Your hand moves to do— you don’t know what, but when it ends up hanging uselessly between you both, Suguru gently takes it between his own.

“Not at all. A few drops of blood is nothing compared to the amount I took from you, doll.” Suguru sounds concerned.

You peel your eyelids apart at that, hoping to reassure him that you’re fine, and manage to catch the relief flooding Suguru’s features as you blink a few times.

He stares at you for a long moment, something soft flickering in his gaze when he assures himself that you’re well before he smooths a thumb over your tender puncture marks, wiping away the remaining blood. Calloused palms come up to cup your face, cradling your head and keeping you from listing sideways any further.

“You’re not a monster for that, y’know,” you mumble instinctively, feeling the urge to say it. There’s no way you’ll let him sit alone with his thoughts later and convince himself that the basic necessity of feeding is deserving of penance. Not when he’s finally just now had a taste of what breathing without a weight crushing through his chest is like. “It’s totally fine. I’m fine, see? Still alive and kicking and happy to talk your ear off in the morning.” Almost comically, that’s right when you yawn.

The chuckle that rumbles from deep within his chest makes you beam, feeling all warm and gooey in a way that has nothing to do with blood loss. “I very much look forward to that.”

Looping back a few seconds in your conversation, voice pitching impossibly softer, “I just… you wouldn’t respond for a moment,” Suguru informs you. The tightness of his jaw suggests that it affected him more than he wished it to. You feel a pang, hoping you didn’t spook him. “Nothing crazy, roughly forty seconds. I should’ve stopped sooner. If anything, I’m the one that needs to apologize.”

You’re sure you look a mess, what with the stupid dopey smile on your face as you drift through a fog of aching pain and desire. You attempt to school your face into something more firm. “Ugh, stop with that. You really don’t have anything to say sorry for. But you’re sure that you’re fine?” You toss back at him.

God. Between the two of you, you could easily secure a gold in the ‘fussing over each other’ Olympics.

Suguru rolls his eyes but fondly drops a kiss to your forehead, a soft assurance. You tilt into it with something akin to a happy purr. “Seriously, don’t worry about me,” he soothes, smiling slightly all the while. “It’s already healing.”

Letting you lean your cheek into the palm of one hand, Suguru takes one of your hands and guides it to the expanse of his back, helping you search for where your nails bit into him. He drags your fingers over miniscule raises on his back, and you’re pleased to find the skin already stitching itself back together.

“Faster than usual?” You rub your face against him like a cat, eyes threatening to fall shut again. Peering up at him, you admire the gentleness in his gaze that Suguru reserves only for you.

“Definitely. I knew to expect it, but it’s still surprising.” Then, “hold on, let me get you something.”

His warmth vanishes from your lap. You’re momentarily thrown, brain lagging, before focusing on Suguru slipping around the counter and into the kitchen. He returns with a glass filled to the brim with juice.

“You need the sugar,” he explains simply. He cards your hair further away from your face and he gracefully curls in at your side, pulling you sideways onto his lap.

It would be so easy for Suguru to allow his instincts to raze all rational thought, to let himself finish the job and go for your jugular like an unleashed hound and rip your throat out with scarlet-stained canines.

But he’s doting. Achingly so. Even now, even after feeding, his first instinct is to make sure you aren’t suffering for his sake.

He sweeps a soothing hand up and down the scoop of your shoulder and his other comes up to carefully coax your head back as he brings the glass to your lips. Drowsy eyes flicker up to Suguru, who meets yours with a relaxed smile, and you let Suguru trickle the juice onto your tongue.

You obediently drink your fill, taking another sip when Suguru’s pointer finger curls away from the glass and pokes your lips until you let them part again with a sigh. You half-focus on not choking, even as Suguru siphons it out carefully enough that it would be impossible, but all you want to do is drink in his handsome figure.

For a moment, you think yourself truly out of it and stupidly love-drunk until you realize that Suguru does look positively radiant. You blink slowly, once, twice, and squint through the haze.

Color blooms prettily in Suguru’s cheeks and the shadows beneath his eyes have entirely been chased away, his entire being humming with renewed vitality. He looks incredibly loose-limbed and relaxed; more so than he does when dozing off to the feeling of you scratching at his scalp and the smooth tenor of your voice as you read to him after a long day.

Edward Cullen sparkles, you internally giggle to yourself.

Suguru catches you staring and shakes his head fondly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Glass clinks as Suguru leans over to table the cup before rising. His hand curls around your bicep and he helps haul you from the divan. When you immediately sway on your feet with a disgruntled moan, trying to blink back the twilight creeping in on your vision, Suguru steadies you with a quietly confident, “I’ve got you.”

An arm wraps around your midsection and you return the hold with your own draped lazily over Suguru’s shoulders. The slow shuffle to the hallway and into the bathroom feels like an eternity and a half.

Artificial light blares against your irises and you grumble under your breath. It dims into something less harsh and you peel your eyes back open, your reflection wavering in the mirror before you. Your attention glides down to your chewed lips, a tiny thumbprint of blood pressed along the curve of your jaw, the bruised junction between your neck and shoulder.

You flatten your pads against the dark spot and stare some more. Suguru shuffles behind you and his mouth comes to rest against the back of your shoulder, ghosting over your nape. His eyes, usually deep violet, glow faintly crimson. His lips are still stained a sinful red.

“Mine,” Suguru mumbles.

“You sound like a caveman,” you hum in reply, earning a snort, and you let Suguru kindly direct you around the bathroom, ushering you through fragments of your usual routine instead of the full thing. Something about leaving yourself to Suguru calms you.

“This has to have gone against some sort of protocol,” you mumble as Suguru finally lowers you into your bed, mouth tasting vaguely of the mouthwash he managed to make you swish around and clothes switched out for loose sleepwear.

Blankets tuck up and around your shoulders, and both an exhale through Suguru’s nose and multiple kisses ghost across your cheek. You shiver. “I’m sure there was something in one of the books I read about vampire and donor relationships— professionality and boundaries and whatnot.”

“When have you ever cared about rules,“ Suguru gets out, mostly to himself, then snorts. Somehow, the noise sounds attractive coming from him. “You are so ridiculous.” He presses another kiss against your face and entertains you with a smile in his voice. “I suppose I’m being pretty damn unprofessional then.”

“Oh, no, you’re very professional,” you argue. You instantly whine as the bed creaks when Suguru leaves you, but you’re quickly satiated by his swift return. You have no shame in your neediness.

The rest of your thoughts wash out as Suguru burrows into the blankets next to you and gathers you close to protectively curl around you. You settle in together, face to face and skin to skin. It’s familiar.

Your eyes flutter back open once it occurs to you. You don’t know how many minutes have passed you by.

“Did I taste good?” Comes barreling out of you.

Your partner hums in brief contemplation. A curtain of hair whispers across the punctures in his neck as Suguru props himself up on one elbow, peering down at you. Another kiss presses against your cheek and Suguru’s breath fans over you. “I’d certainly make taste to drink from you again.”

“I’m going to sleep now.”

Suguru shakes with silent laughter.

(Long after you finally doze off, lips adorably parted and legs tangled together like the roots of a tree intertwining with another’s, looking cuter than a kitten in his rolled up flannel pants and old college sweatshirt, Suguru allows his head to fall, cheek squished against the chest cavity that houses your humanity. Your heart thumps steadily beneath his ear. Reassuringly so.

A soft exhale escapes him, half fondness, half awe. “Thank you, baby.”)

author’s note: this old fic of mine fits suguru so well it makes me sickkkktkshrkdja I LOVE YOU VAMPIRE SUGURU I LOVE YOUUUUUU

if you listened to the playlist while reading this… i heart u forever. also I’m thinking of when my mutual of 4 years read the original version of this fic and said she’s never been so turned on and frazzled by smth that was sfw which was truly the highest of compliments. MISS MY BAE!

perma tags: @libr4sonsa @spirit-kat @kaitospo @m1nrrva @enchantinghonymoon @shokogasm @dairyfaerie @pvmpkingod @skz8stay @floriophrastus @originalsaucy @loyalguma @wormplant @amane1271 @oporotheca @teachmehowtodokiaye @dogwhiskey @sunnydayqq

[kymsys]

TRICK OR TREAT b*tches 🎃🍬✨

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I can't recall if you take requests but.. The boys with a vampire lover? If you haven't already.. Been thinking about this for awhile, I just had to ask. And if you don't, Then I apologize for asking.

Vampire Lover!

Tags: mostly fluff, monsterxhuman, mention of blood (you’re a vampire duhhhh)

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna, Choso, Nanami

An: Hi! My requests are open :) No need to apologize! Thank you for the idea <3 I hope this is what you meant btw this is the best I could come up with.. 😭

SATORU

Satoru would definitely be the type to beg you to bite him. You would always deny him and tell him that it’d be wrong for you to feed on him since he’s your boyfriend, but he gets all giddy at the idea of you biting him and drinking from him.

He always makes excuses for why you can’t attend events or different clan meetings if they’re during the day. You’re constantly known for having some sort of sickness that Satoru randomly came up with.

He’s very inquisitive: constantly asking you if people smell different based off their blood types, which blood type is the sweetest etc.

He also has the money to fund all consensual giving of blood to feed you for years on out. You never have to worry about going hungry or having to hunt for food. Another reason why you refuse to drink from him.

Satoru would at first be happy with his humanity. He doesn’t want immortality or to never age. He doesn’t want any more power than he already had. Though, when you randomly bring up to him that you’ll outlive him, he’s suddenly questioning whether being a human is for him or not.

The thought of you going on to live without him for as many years as this earth stands drives him wild. He starts doing a lot of research, and he begins to ask you if you’ve thought about turning him. He’s definitely willing to give up his humanity if it means being by your side.

SUGURU

Suguru insists you drink from him to prevent harm from anyone else. At least, that’s what he tells you. In reality, he loves how much you rely on him. He adores each time you crawl up into his lap and gingerly kiss on his neck, obviously hoping to feed on him.

He’ll always tell you, “Go ahead, baby. Take what you need,” as he brushes his hair back from his neck. His hands would gently caress your back and bottom as you drank from his neck.

He’d never stop you either, even if you took a bit too much from him because that’s when you’re extra doting on him. You’re super apologetic and tend to him like he’s some frail being. It’s the only time in his life that he’s looked at as weak, and he doesn’t mind it, especially not when your apologizing with kisses and bringing him anything he could possibly ask for.

Suguru lies to his found-family that you have a rare skin condition, and you can’t be in the sun at all. He makes sure everyone accepts you into their little group, and he even introduces you to his followers. You expressed fear about being around that many humans, but he loves to watch as you nervously make your way across the room, introducing yourself to everyone. He knows you’ll be itching to feed as soon as everyone’s gone.

Suguru wants to be by your side for forever, but he knows that if you turn him, then you can’t feed on him anymore. He’s stuck in a dilemma of choosing which is more important to him. His humanity isn’t even part of the equation as he gave that up a long time ago.

SUKUNA

Sukuna would be the type to laugh at you for needing blood as substance to keep you alive. He would mock and bully you saying things like, “Look at the worthless creature who’s really no better than a mere mortal.”

He’d tempt you by various means, sometimes even “accidentally” slicing his finger open so you could smell the blood that still somehow pulsed through his veins. Once you finally pled enough for his liking, he’d finally allow you to have a taste.

For the King of Curses, he has some of the sweetest tasting blood that you’ve ever had the pleasure of indulging. Though, he won’t let you drink from him often, instead he gifts you human sacrifices. He thinks of it as a courting present.

When he’s not being a little asshole towards you, he does enjoy lying in bed with you while you theorize about what the future holds for you two. He’d gently pet your hair and tell you not to worry your head about such foolish things.

Everyone in his inner circle already knows about what you are. If they’re fine with being associated with the literal incarnation of evil, then they should be completely okay with a vampire at his side.

He doesn’t have to give up his humanity to be with you for all eternity because he doesn’t have any humanity to begin with. You’re not even sure what would happen if you tried to turn him, but you’re not too keen on finding out.

CHOSO

Choso would be like Satoru in the sense that he’s constantly making sure that you’re fed. Given his blood manipulation cursed technique, he can feed you quite easily through various different means. Though he rather prefers when you bite him.

He relates to you on a deeper level, understanding what it’s like to be not quite human. He sympathizes with your struggles and tries to reassure that some humans will accept you for who you are.

Knowing that you can’t go out in the sunlight, Choso finds so many date ideas and things to do at night. You never feel like you’re missing out on anything because this man will make it happen, no matter what it is.

Only Choso and Yuji know you’re a vampire. He knows he said that humans will accept you, but he also knows some will try to hunt you down, and he’s not willing to take the risk.

Choso doesn’t have to give up his humanity to live forever with you, but he does wonder what would happen to him if he was half-curse and half-vampire. He’d become fixed on the idea, but you’d have to politely remind him that if he turned, his cursed technique would basically become useless.

NANAMI

Nanami would be such a cautious lover to a vampire, not because he’s scared of you. He loves you. He’s just worried about everyone else being around you.

He’d let you feed on him, but he brings around small blood bags for you to enjoy at all times! He even gets jazzy with it and makes you fun little drinks with the blood (while trying not to throw up because it probably repulses him). Nevertheless, the drinks always turn out good.

He holds an umbrella for you constantly if you insist on going out during the day time. If anyone asks why you need an umbrella, he snaps at them to mind their own business.

Nanami would tell no one that you’re a vampire. He doesn’t want anyone potentially leaking that information and bringing you into harm’s way. He prefers that he’s the only one who knows.

Unfortunately, I don’t see Nanami giving up his humanity to be with you forever, and you agree with him. He grows old beside you while you remain the same, and you give him the most fulfilling life possible.

[barbies1shots]

☆- slow - rough sex, featuring GETO SUGURU, whiny geto, pathetic geto, slight feral geto, overstimulation, condescending reader, werewolf!geto x vampire!reader, implied fem reader but anyone can read, use of pretty girl, biting, riding - mating press

werewolf geto who ran most of your little errands. grabbing your clothing from the dry cleaners, picking up your shoes from the polishers, grabbing your supplied bloodbags from the bank. even with the crude way the other vampires look at him. the only thing on mind is pleasing you.

you looked at him from the corner of your eyes when he said he wanted a reward. that he deserved something since he was a good boy.

you, of course indulged in him and gave him what he wanted. a kiss. he nudged you to lay down on the couch, wanting you to be comfortable before he leaned down and kissed your lips. incredibly greedy for any affection. he pulled you impossibly closer from the waist and he moaned into the kiss. his tongue pushes into your mouth, licking everything. not even caring if it was a proper kiss now.

he whines once he trials his lips down your jaw and on your neck. he whines that he wants to finally mark you as his. that all the disgusting vampire smells were making his head hurt.

"What did you do to deserve more than a kiss, huh, pup?"

you giggled at his blunt answer, nothing but i want it. Want my pretty girl so bad. he didnt even know what he was saying. just babbling along with what his heart wants. you granted him permission, and he hurried to find the junction between your neck and your shoulder and sunk his teeth in. his canines hurting the most but he soothed it over with his rough tongue.

you let him strip you out of your clothing, helping him with the straps that his bigger fingers couldnt properly hold. see, he wasnt a virgin, no where close but your cunt makes him feel like one. the tightness, softness and warmness felt like he could come at any moment once he pushed in. with his head tilted back, he let out a groan from the back of his throat, his hold on your hips tightening so much that there will be brusies in the morning.

he leaned down to your neck, licking at the bite mark before he jerked his hips back and pushed them in. easily pressing into your g-spot and making you quiver. he reeled his hips back untill just the tip was grazing the outside muscle and snapped his hips, sending a horrid crashing wave of pleasure through your bones. yet suguru was already on the edge of tipping over, he couldnt keep his breathless moans to himself as he hid himself in your neck.

but as time grew on, his thrusts began to falter. the pleasure, for him, growing too much as he just focused on grinding into you.

"Are you struggling? Do you need my help? Its okay to cry for help, puppy,"

yet he just whined and pitifully nodded his head. he let you switch positions, your pillowy thighs caging his hips in and you lifted yourself up and sunk down onto him. this position takes him deeper, deeper into your tummy where it feels like hes in your throat.

a loud whimper escaped his lips once the back of your thighs met his hips, his chest was rising and falling incredibily. he placed his hands on your hips and you started to ride him. lifting yourself up and dropping yourself down. pressing down and grinding against him. your clit catching the dark hairs resting on his pelvis.

with every movement his thighs jerked and trembled as he struggled to keep his composure. he would gasp, his eyes fluttering shut, Damn, pretty girl, yesyes- please, just like that!-

with every movement it felt like you were riding him for his literal life. that he had to grasp onto his very soul so you couldnt fuck it out of him. your cunt felt like heaven itself, something so precious that should be taken for granted. he arched his back, feeling his canines grow with the sudden need to be even closer to you. a strong wave of possessiveness that reeled him in, a primal instinct.

every movement had him gritting his teeth as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. every movement of your slutty hips-

suddenly you were on your back, flipped over and pinned under the large mass of your werewolf lover, with him growling visicously down into your face. he didnt let you catch your breath or even ask questions before he filled you up again. the pace brutal and unfeeling as he just rutted into you like a filthy dog off the street.

he pressed his dick so deep, that there was a bulge in your tummy, the action forcing a sob to escape from your throat.

he hoisted your thighs onto his arms and he pressed down untill his head rested in your neck, and your thighs are pressed into your tummy, his lips brushing your mark as he fucked you. every rut felt like someone was taking a rock and smashing it into your lungs before purposly taking their finger and stabbing your g-spot. he fucked you and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

he growled possessivly when you ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down, he growled when you pressed your lips into the side of his neck, by his ear. he growled- no he howled when you sinked your fangs into his neck, far deeper than anything has ever gone before and he whimpered patheically as he came. the bite suprising him but feeling so good where he saw white spots scattering his vision as he came.

the pup filled you up so good and just continued to rut into your body like a mindless doll, not knowing when to stop or even how to stop. he didnt hear your distant voice crying out for him to get ahold of himself when he leaned down to bite into the opposite side of your neck. his muzzle now smered with your blood. all he felt was a blinding white pleasure and not your hands slapping at his chest and pelvis to give up.

poor puppy..:(

@aizawasbarb

[vesnawinters]

I never shared this but my gf and I have such a BADASS Satosugu Vampire AU you have no idea

A royal vampire and half-blooded priest🩸

Oh to be doing merch of your au text roleplay

[saerannical]

Vampire Suguboo from my previous art, but make it pocket-sized and double the mischievous~

[ohimsummer]

BLOOD BANK

—minors dni, dc warning, vampire! suguru x reader, bloodsucking, predator/prey elements, light choking, kidnapping technically

wc 1.1k

there is a thrumming in the woods. a pair of hearts trying to out-beat each other, both for vastly different reasons.

the man—this dark-haired beast—savors his time in reaching you. his walk is a slow, menacing lumber, one he can afford to take when his prey is just some shivering little thing with their back literally to a wall. a lost lamb out in the woods, way out of their element and woefully easy to rip apart.

he looks amused. you imagine for someone like him, that you’re making quite the easy meal; fear cementing you to the spot, only part moving is the involuntary tremble in your limbs and those wide, frightful eyes looking for an escape route.

the tall, otherworldly man stops just several feet short of you. he waits, and when you make no sudden movements, he talks. “aren’t you going to run?”

it’s all a little…confusing. is he really giving you permission? he’s letting you go? or is this just another trick, granting you a sliver of hope before he promptly snatches you back into reality? there is only one way to find out.

you clamber up onto wobbly legs, using the large wall of rock behind you to help steady yourself. he only watches, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, fascinated, amethyst eyes detailing your every clumsy move. staggered steps. the frantic turns of your head before you obviously pick a random direction to run, not even knowing where it goes, if it doesn’t lead to a dead end.

barely ten steps in, and you’re hitting the ground with a thud. your head makes a sharp collision with the ground, leaving you both stunned and confused. did you trip over your own feet again—

the heavy weight on top of you says otherwise.

as your captor manhandles you onto your back, a heap of whimpers worm their way up and out your throat. the helpless bleats of a caught animal. he pins your wrists with one hand before you can even fight back, legs on either side of you to straddle your waist. he turns his head to the side, moonlight catching on the sharp edge of his jawline, and he laughs at the weak flailing of your legs behind him. you’re so puny and vulnerable. he’s been having fun with you since the start.

your desperate mewl of ‘please’ is cut off with a shush, soft and low as if to console you. “no begging, my darling, none of that.”

he looms over your helpless form, leaning down to bury his nose in your neck and all you can do is cringe and cower further into the dirt. the man hesitates over the skin of your neck, and then you hear him, feel him take in a deep whiff of your scent.

“i hadn’t planned on hunting, tonight, “, he murmurs along your skin, lips tracing over the expanse of your throat, “but, you smelled too delightful for me to pass up, and i am dying to know if you taste just the same.”

he pulls back to admire you again, and long, feathery, raven locks form a curtain around you, isolating your vision to just him. him and those bewitching eyes that keep you so mesmerized, afraid to look away.

his other hand traces up the length of your arms, where the man laces fingers with you. he gives your hand a light squeeze, then presses it down hard enough to keep your other hand secure to the ground. the opposite hand comes to a rest on your throat, squeezing lightly as if he feels the blood racing through you.

never breaking his gaze gives you a first-hand view through the windows of his eyes, straight into his thoughts and you watch in horror as the veil of hunger in those violet shades morphs into pure, predatory greed. he doesn’t look like he wants to just play with you anymore. like he wants to maybe sink his teeth into you here and there. no, this is a look that says he yearns to devour you whole.

your captor can see the realization cross your features, and the look of sheer terror on your face makes him want to just go ahead and eat you right up.

“n—no, i—,” you begin writhing beneath him again, thrashing and pleading and crying for an out, but he doesn’t even have to adjust his strength to keep you in place. “i don’t taste good, i promise, i swear!”

the man only chuckles, amusing himself with your pitiful escape attempts. “let me be the judge of that.” and then he flashes you a wide, toothy grin.

a glimpse of those fangs turns your blood to ice, and your body goes numb. he laughs again as you grow still in an instant, long, forked tongue running over his glistening canines. they’re abnormally long, sharp as glass with a pointed tip. perfect for puncturing skin.

it happens faster than you can anticipate. his eyes narrow, and then a split-second later, there’s a light pressure on your neck, swiftly followed by stabbing pinpricks of pain. an abrupt gasp followed by a stuttered choke leaves your lips. your chest heaves. and then the man is looking at you again. there is red on his immaculate teeth, coating his lips, running down his chin to stain his once-pristine white shirt.

the side of your neck feels sore. a constant, throbbing pain just below your jawline, only soothed when he leans down again to run a warm tongue over the spot, feeding from you and, despite his courteous persona, it’s clear that he’s a messy eater. you can feel the smear of blood on your neck, jaw, dripping down to the dirt below and seeping into the earth.

“didn’t take you for a liar.” he is speaking again, working his snake-like tongue over his lips to poorly clean away the blood. “ i’m not usually one for sweets, but i can make an exception. just for you.”

a wave of nausea threatens to drown you entirely; birds swim in a halo around your head, eyesight blurry and faded. there are arms under your back and the bend in your knees, and then you are weightless.

“where….where are we…..”, you mumble out the incomplete inquiry.

“we’re going home.”, he says.

your head lolls to the side before resting on his chest. it’s firm, with the muted tone of his slowed heartbeat inside. his hair feels ticklish against your cheek. it makes your face scrunch up, and now there is the low rumble of his laughter at your expression. between that and the nausea, the exhaustion, it takes no time for you to drift off to sleep. and the last words you hear from the man is him calling you his new little blood bank.

🩸: @teddybeartoji @staryukis @babytoshiii @reiluvr @kentophilia @ohsuguru @risuola @soraya-daydreams @starlightanyaaa @luvvmae @domainexpansionmypants @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @venzlenes @bubblez-blop @lovesickliyue

[rice5x]

pouty vampire

[lilacxquartz]

your hunger is mine (only mine);

vampire!hunter suguru geto x vampire f!reader

plot: tasked with killing you, vampire hunter suguru is driven mad with infatuation instead — themes: vampire au, slight plot, blood feeding, possessive behaviour, yandere, smut, p i v — w.c: 4k+ • masterlist • on ao3

For Suguru Geto, every day was the same.

He would wake up, hunt, eat, then sleep.

This was simply just the life he knew; from the moment the first light filtered in, he’d rise to sharpen his blades, dip the silver into holy water, and rehearse his prayers to pardon the dead. Suguru was what was expected of him, a man driven by a sense of duty that he felt he owed to the world—operating as though on clockwork—closing his eyes only when the cycle finished.

Only to repeat it all again.

For him, this was normal. Just like every other hunter that walked the world, he too, led a lonely life, married instead to the prospect of chasing whatever it was that lurked in the shadows, all so that those living in the settlements could have a semblance of peace. He’d push on, simply because he had to.

Though, then something changed. He woke up just like usual, he hunted, and that much stayed the same. But he didn’t eat, and he certainly couldn’t sleep—not when he was so captivated by what he had set out to destroy.

(You.)

~~~

The mission in itself was a simple enough affair; it was yet another tired night, guided by the cold glow of the moon. Missions often led him to blighted manors, which were once thriving residences, that now smelled like death itself. After a while of storming in and clearing such places though, they all started to blur and even look the same. This home wasn’t anything special.

Swiftly, methodically, Suguru purged the interior of a once noble family and its workers who scurried away like fleeting rats upon entry. Typically, vampires would rest in groups, huddled in a small room for both security, but also if they were simply dormant. Everything was going as planned, but then, he heard something deep into the heart of the house that made him pause.

A woman crying. Softly. Devastatingly.

As a result, he couldn’t help but investigate further, even while knowing that it could all be a trap. Sometimes, variations, as they were called, could make their way into a regular nest. If this was as he suspected, then he would have to turn in his base mission as it was, but something about those deeply mesmerising wails prevented him from turning around and leaving—despite every fiber of his being telling him otherwise—to investigate instead.

Slowly, carefully, Suguru tentatively extended his hand and pushed a dusty old door inside, his eyes falling over a pile of broken mirrors, one of which was held up by you, crying in the corner. Streaks of claw marks that peeled against the rotten walls marked up the area, leaving an unsavoury taste in his mouth. All of his senses told him that he stumbled upon something outside of his pay grade here, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. This, otherwise, was different, after all. You didn’t run when confronted, and much like every other variation that he had come across in his career, you didn’t lunge for his throat either.

Perhaps it was a bad idea then, but Suguru took upon the decision to approach you. His reflexes were fast, so he didn’t quite concern himself with you potentially catching him off guard, and as you turned, he once again hesitated. Your face just looked so… human? So fevered with peril and genuine anguish, as if ravaged by a sickness rather than a lapse of fading humanity.

For the first time in years, he felt something that he hadn’t felt for a while for these creatures. What was it again? Pity? Empathy? Whatever it was, it had been a feeling lost to him for a while, sending him back to the days of his first hunt, when he was torn between what made someone human and what didn’t.

All of the signs pointed to you being one of those things, so with that struggle in mind, he tried to push past his initial thoughts and try at least to finish the job. Suguru, as if locked in a trance, reached for his blades to strike you down, but then you did something that he hadn’t seen in all of his years on the job that made him freeze—that made his eyes grow wide—that made the blade clang onto the floor.

You… spoke.

Your voice, so human, so soft, whimpered out a stammered line, laced with genuine fear, “H-help me.”

Suguru gulped, allowing his eyes to drift to you.

In all of his years, he had never seen something like this. To him at least, these creatures—these things—these monsters, were anything but human, and yet, here you were; capable of communication. Initially, he tried to justify his reaction as a fear response, his hand desperately searching the floor for his fallen weapon, ready to banish you for good, but then you repeated yourself.

“Help.”

“Help me.”

“Don’t do this.”

For some reason, this was what it took to break him. Being a hunter was a lonely job; he had no idea if this was similar to humans technically, but he had also been isolated since the day of his training. Hunters could not operate in groups, let alone pairings. These abominations, also, would never go as far as to show fear, to beg for their lives, so he had potentially stumbled upon something new here that would be a waste if killed—at least in his mind.

His voice was tight as he tried to navigate this problem, grunting out a curt, “How?” when he finally succumbed to a reply. His eyes were narrowed, portraying an unreadable glare to conceal what he was truly thinking. If you were capable of speech, after all, then who was to say that you wouldn’t be capable of understanding too?

You tried to answer, letting the handheld mirror shatter on the ground like the rest. You turned to him, with your eyes wide and glassy, strained with pain and perhaps, also, a hint of hysteria. “I-I had recently been turned,” you falsely revealed, shooting out a clawed hand to clasp over his clothed arm, “I… I think I have to feed, but I really don’t want to…”

That wasn’t the whole truth for you, and you knew it. You had been here for more time than you knew, it’s just that you were still in touch with your old self. You could, technically, settle just like all of the others similar to you in the settlements, but there was something deeper that you craved. Your hunger was almost parasitic, and if luck would have it, you led your potential host right into your trap.

Suguru—the hunter before you—continued to regard you warily all the same, as though studying you to determine just what sort of personal threat it was that he was dealing with. He took note of how twitchy you were, betraying erratic undertones to your otherwise deceptively calm (for a vampire) demeanour. Something about you wasn’t entirely right and you were hiding something. You could have been someone recently turned, but you also could have been one of those new-age variations, that were even more difficult to detect.

Those types of things were always changing, after all, that’s something you both knew without needing to communicate it. The older, and even middle generations of the variations were capable of at least some kind of intelligence, which was what led to vampires huddling into groups rather than individually roaming. Perhaps the latest strain had adapted to become more human, evolving to potentially lure in hunters like himself into manipulated sympathy to spare him.

If that was it—he understood—every creature that occupied this cursed earth, for better or for worse, was just trying to survive. He couldn’t fault you for that, but also, at the same time, he could. Vampires and humans couldn’t coexist, at least, that’s what had been told for as long as he knew.

Still, despite being a hunter, he was still human; much against his better judgment, curiosity won out.

“How recently ago were you turned?” he asked, chancing a theory.

Predictably, your face went blank. You didn’t know the answer. It couldn’t have been that recent.

Suguru’s chest tightened as a result, a wave of unease spreading through his body. You were a variation that was capable of not only communication and understanding but playing a particular role that didn’t result in immediate violence. As a result, his mind briefly flashed over the possibility of turning you in for enough gold to last a lifetime, but for some reason, the thought didn’t linger. His violet gaze locked onto yours again, attempting to gauge something in particular from you. For a vampire to turn someone, there had to be an incubation period; variations happened from hastily turned occurrences, since for the last century or so, bite attacks happened more out of desperation than to feed.

Humans, as far as he understood, were simply just a delicacy—vampires were indeed still a threat, but, they didn’t exclusively target them. Just like how humans hunted to feast upon wild game or kept livestock, it wasn’t that unheard of for a hunter to report something similar back.

Therefore, you couldn’t have been starved—surely not—especially when the forest was so abundant with animals that passed through the trees.

His mind went back to the potential coin he could cash in, just for a brief moment, though. Suguru in theory, could cash you in and finally live within the settlements in peace. He could finally find someone special and adopt a peaceful life, but something at the same time begged for him to reconsider. Not only were you a pretty thing, but you were capable of holding back. You had an ethereal sort of look that was absent in humans, which would likely catch the eye of a brothel that would try and pedal your worth for as long as they could. Such instances had occurred in the past, too, with enough restraints in place.

Another possibility was that a research institution could try and get their hands on you, belonging to one of those laboratories that loomed in the dead center of the settlements. This too, would be a waste, because they would likely try and dissect you, subjecting your cadaver to autospies that wouldn’t necessarily mean anything until they’ve had at least a dozen few like you.

Suguru sighed.

What a predicament.

It wasn’t something that he could particularly control, but he wanted to be selfish with this. He wanted to study you for himself, as a hunter, his base job be damned. If you were truly self-aware enough, then he could potentially utilise this to favour his benefit. Vampires, after all, could read their own signatures, no matter where they were, whereas hunters had to go off based on intuition.

Calmly, Suguru drew up the sleeve of his shirt, unbuttoning the cuff so that he could offer you better reach, presenting you with a choice.

“How much would you need?” he asked, unable to quite believe that this was something he was truly considering.

“Not too much,” you murmured out, your response immediate, “just… just enough to take the edge off.”

Suguru nodded. “And, will I turn if I let you feed?”

You shook your head. “No, no… if I can avoid the veins, then you should be fine. It’s if the venom enters the bloodstream, that you will turn.”

(Wait. Venom? That was new information.)

Suguru’s eyes drifted down to meet with your lips, observing the pale blue tint to their complexion. You were as starved as you claimed, but you were also holding back. For what? He had given you plenty of opportunities to catch him at a vulnerable position, so you could have indeed lunged and doomed him at any given moment, but you didn’t. You also seemed to be aware of how turning worked, and what was needed to be done. All of this shared hesitation led him to believe that this could potentially result in a mutually beneficial outcome.

Just as you were about to take his offer, too, you held back, suddenly blurting out a panicked spiel of words, your fists tightened and tears streamed down your cheeks, your voice spiked with anguish and terror, “I-I hate what I am, you know,” you breathlessly confessed, “I hate myself—what I am—but I can’t just… let go of my life. I was like you before. Normal. But, you understand, don’t you? I can’t just stop living – not when it’s all I have left.”

Suguru sighed as he listened to your tortured words. Realistically, he knew that he was potentially giving into something that he shouldn’t, especially given his profession. He knew that he should have killed you to be done with it, earning his keep from your dragged-out corpse left to evaporate in the sun, or at best, left you alone to be dealt with at the hands of another hunter.

But he stayed.

So, whatever happened next, was on him.

“I’m going to help you,” he assured, steeling himself knowing that this was going to hurt, “but only because I’m curious, not because I care about you. Now, you can do this in two ways. You can take what I give you and listen to me, or you can flee and pray that the next hunter you come across, is even half as kind as me.”

He waited around for your response, but you didn’t respond with anything immediate. Your eyes were locked onto the contours of his inviting flesh, drawing your lips closer to his offering. Suguru’s breath hitched, expecting you to lunge, but you were excruciatingly slow. In a way, he supposed that the display was sensual, which made sense, knowing that vampires were supposed to be alluring to reel in the trust of their food. For a moment, he considered that he was a victim of such a thing; tricked into being fed upon by a new variation, who played into being more human than they truly were—

—Suguru hissed in pain.

The bite finally connected.

A sharp, pulsating shock traveled through his system, focusing right on his arm. He grunted as he tried to breathe away the pain, seething through his teeth as he tanked the sensation. Suguru’s jaw clenched as you sank your fangs into his aching skin; turning his head away before whipping it back to focus on you. A new feeling radiated just seconds after, letting him fall slack and relax against the wall. Just as quickly as the pain rose—pleasure did too, erasing all of the hurt—replacing it with something warmer.

Without even thinking about it, he allowed his free hand to drift and wrap around your scalp next, aiming to secure you into place while you fed. On occasion, you would blink up and catch his gaze, almost as if to confirm that his focus was planted directly on you. He paused at the sight, feeling something else within him stir, perhaps desire. His blood was being actively stolen, so through the dizzying rush of you feeding upon his very life essence, he couldn’t quite tell where the rest of his blood was rushing.

One thing was abundantly clear though.

He liked this.

Suguru released any tension that he ever had, leaning even further back as he led you to feed. Your soft lips felt like silk against his skin, feeding from him in teasingly slow gulps. For a moment, he lost himself in the blissful allure, understanding that there was no such human within the settlements that he could ever find to replicate the surreal reality of what he was experiencing right now. It was as if you had unlocked an addiction for him, leading him down a darker path when he should have been following the light—awakening something possessive within him—doomed to chase the newfound drug he sampled.

A thought crossed his mind, though.

You needed him to live, didn’t you?

If you were starved before, then he was your lifeline; your source of food—

—It was as swiftly over as it began, though, leading him to choke out a pained grunt as you pulled away.

You kept your promise, not bleeding him dry, not turning him—but in the heat of the moment—he wished for you to not stop. Suguru bit back a scoff, realising that had you potentially not kept true to your word, then he might have let you empty him for all that he was worth.

Sanguine red gloss coated your lips, dripping crimson down your chin. You stared at him with the very same lingering hunger he now desperately craved, but held back on advancing further. You were being just as careful as he was, getting him dependent to being around you, just as you felt around him. You tilted your head as you observed him, taking note of how his once murderous eyes melted into something betraying vulnerability instead, as if a chasm had been opened in his core, forming a void deep within.

You were sated, but he was not.

You studied him, indeed, as he forced himself to relax his hand and let go of your scalp, plucking his arm away. His body tensed as it came down from its painful high, a flush of rouge spreading across his cheeks as he tried to sit upright to conceal his arousal. His legs trembled, and his breath shuddered; the venom didn’t have to be exchanged, for your plan worked despite it, you secured a hunter again to protect your worth.

Suguru’s mind spiraled in the meantime, finding this situation abundantly frustrating. The hunt had changed, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Though he couldn’t help but feel that he was tricked somehow, fearing that now you had fed yourself, you might attempt to flee. He was damned if he was going to let you go, though, feeling the darker feeling return. The thought of you feeding upon someone else was upsetting, and he couldn’t for whatever reason, let you do that.

He drove himself mad for the rest of the night, unable to sleep. Such a longing need to be your only food source persisted to ravage his mind as you both recovered. Suguru pulled you in closer, tightening his arms around you. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, overcome with a rising hunger that was uglier than your own; where you lusted for mere sustenance, Suguru craved you on your own.

And as the morning finally arrived, Suguru’s eyes snapped open just as he felt himself doze off, revealing you attempting to sneak away. He whipped out his arms, wrapping his fingers tight around your wrists before you could truly flee. His reflexes were uncannily sharp, honed by years of hunting your very own kind. Suguru held onto you like a man crazed, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing his limbs to entangle with his own.

“No,” he simply stated, his breath running hot against your ear, “you will stay.”

Your lips parted as you thought of what to reply; in all of your years of manipulating hunters, they had never once been so possessive. For once, you felt as though you were as equally in danger as he must have felt when he first laid eyes upon you. You tried to relax regardless, trying to thaw your rigid state into the heat of his warm body, but the lingering unease remained all the same.

“You’re going to need only me from now on,” Suguru emphasised, “only me—just me.”

You tried to speak with him, only to be cut off, “I—”

“—you’ll let me sate your hunger, won’t you?” he asked, tracing his fingertips along your icy skin, “you won’t take your fill from anyone else.”

You fed him a look as a result, attempting to secure a promise within his crazed awakening. You were telling the truth, at least partially from before. No vampire enjoyed their life, so who were you to deny, that you perhaps wanted someone alive to make you feel if not, equally the same? To be treasured as a life, to be wanted, lusted for, just as one would with a living, breathing thing.

“I’ll carry on your burden,” he continued to promise, his voice a tone softer now, “you will not bear it alone.”

Suguru meant every bit of vowed promise that left his tongue and thoughts, too, his mind swirling with infatuation winning over logic, such a decision that would soon cling to his very state of being. As the nights came and went, you would on every other occasion ask to feed and Suguru would let you, the intense desire to let another sort of hunger claim him, claim you growing stronger with each passing hour.

He sat back all the same, yet this time, his mind was in a frenzied, almost feral state. He savoured the sensation of your fangs nestled in his flesh, of your lips brushing against him. He would cradle you, reeling you in tight against the core of his body, holding onto you with such want that it was completely maddening. Suguru quickly became a man, crazed, refusing to hunt for his keep, instead sustaining himself with a hunt for his lifeline, to feed you.

(What was his job again?)

(Who was he again?)

He watched you lap up his blood, just like he was used to by now, but tonight in particular, he let his arousal show and as if spurred on from your lack of complaint, he reluctantly pulled back from you, averting your blood-lusted gaze to meet with his own. He pulled you up, allowing your lips to crash against his—kissing—tasting himself with his tongue, driving him into unhinged heights of realisation alone.

He wanted you more than anything else.

Suguru’s fingernails dug into your hips, leaving behind bloodied half-moon scratches into your skin as he drew you in even closer. A part of him knew that he should be pulling away before this threatened to spiral even further, but you weren’t fighting him back on this either.

You wanted this too.

You were admittedly turned on, you couldn’t even deny it. You lost yourself in the same way that he had been losing himself from the very moment he laid eyes on you. Your fangs sank into his lips, grazing at the tender wet flesh; your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt too, as if to tether yourself to him in rising need.

A sharp sting pulsed through him as a result, a bead of blood that became mixed in the mutual kiss shared. Suguru shuddered, as a result, his violet eyes dark with something raw, perhaps even consuming.

“You’re…” he trailed off, unable to keep his eyes off of you, staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “you’re the most dangerous thing I have ever come across.”

Realistically, he knew should have been afraid of what was about to happen—but he wasn’t—neither were you. The two of you might as well have both been too far gone. And so when you leaned in again, feeding him that same sultry look again, Suguru understood one thing in particular; he had to let you take him under because in the heat of the moment, he wanted to drown.

You straddled him in a rising frenzy, making quick work of the fabric that had both concealed your obvious arousal. Suguru, who was maddeningly hard, sought out your slick warmth with pained intensity. And as soon as he was able to do so, he plunged into you with frenzied ease, shuddering at the intoxicating intensity. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his arms pulled you in even closer and when he opened them again, he stared at you with a wild, close to hysterical light, finally understanding the true extent of his obsession with you.

“Fuck, you feel… so… good,” he grunted as he felt your hips roll with the buck of his rhythm, his words rutting out in tune with his thrusted impact.

You parted your lips away from him at the same time, seeking out his neck instead, knowing that you also shouldn’t, but when lost in a haze of lust, who were you too, if not a creature driven by pure instinct? Your teeth sank in, hitting his pulse point, feeding off of him as he impaled your heat, lost in a world of your own.

Suguru threw his head back with a strangled moan, feeling your teeth sink into his flesh, not quite fighting you back either. This sort of new pain was freshly intense with no pleasurable recovery, but he didn’t care, too lost in his possessive stupor to bring himself to stop you. Instead, he pushed you in even closer; entangling himself around your scalp, shuddering out gasps of fevered anguish from every little pull of your lips, from each swallow of his blood.

“Shit,” he gasped out, unable to quite control his reactions anymore. He drove himself into you with manic fervour, slamming himself with a ferocity that bordered on violence as he drowned in rising waves of dark ecstasy pulsing through his veins. His pace was relentless, almost punishing and painful, but he was too lost in the crazed pursuit of passion to even care.

Indeed, Suguru, with you, had managed to surrender himself utterly and completely to you, unable to even fight back against his life force slowly fading away with each passing draw of your lips. He held you tight, encouraging you to feed off of him deeper, encouraging you to take more as he pumped himself into you with heedless abandon; his own hips giving out, leaving you to guide his way to meet with the release he so desperately craved

Suguru held on, lulled into a tranquilised, if even overjoyed (at last) state, muttering out merely whispered instances of pleading mantras, “don’t stop,” was one you heard, “give yourself t’me,” was another; a man completely obsessed with keeping you right were you were.

You finished feeding soon though, needing him to stick around, even if the damage potentially done to his bloodstream was irreversible. Feeling himself come back too, Suguru held on tight against your hips, crashing himself into your cunt with a hurried frenzy, letting slip of a ragged gasp as he finally felt you come undone, with his sought-after release following suit just as quick. He continued to hold on, feeling himself pulse and twitch and empty into your battered sex; draining all of the pent-up tension, all of his anger, of his never-once-appointed passion, deep into your now-tight, spent core.

You fell over him as a result, finally relaxing as you melted atop his body. Suguru couldn’t help but shudder at the intensity of the afterglow, not even feeling angry for the changes he felt. He lost himself, after all, from the very moment he gave you a chance; so this was on him, not you. If not slightly dazed, he managed to lift his head and look at you, his eyes glazed and bloodshot, exhausted with possessive satisfaction.

Suguru kept you plugged up for the time being, unrelenting on his hold over you as if letting go of you would mean the end of the world. His breathing refused to calm and his thoughts raced with obsessive mania. The high lingered too, never once subsiding, not like before. Even as his vision blurred and faded to black, he knew he was going to be fine, because the look you gave him back was just as possessive in return.

You were his as much as he was yours and neither of you would allow another to state one another. You belonged to each other now. You were beyond what could have been codependent, perhaps even working as one.

A parasite you were, indeed, he not only carried your burden, but even in his potentially changed form, he would seek to still sustain you.

You watched on as he sighed, as his eyes finally fluttered shut, as his body sank further into a dreamless sleep, with his hold on you never once relaxing.

You followed suit, just as soon, content that you had found a solution for your hunger.

While Suguru finally had found a solution to his madness.

Perhaps this would be his undoing. Maybe even yours too.

(But maybe that was just meant to be.)

[aaazade]

HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM ── EPISODE ONE 𖤐

⤷ 𝄞⨾ 𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i do not own any of these characters except my own. minors, please do not interact as this is mature content with dark and sexual themes. all of my characters are black women so please respect that as you read! all lowercase is intended in this writing. PAIRING: rockstar!sukuna x tourmanager!blackreader RATING: 18+, again mdni WARNINGS: yandere-ish moments, rock band, reader is black, usage of being held hostage, dírty talk, vampire!sukuna, dubcon, biting, drinking blood, slowburn, eventual smut, sort of angsty, stalker!sukuna, set in mostly southern cities, attempted mind control, secret society, royalty, masked men, usage of foul language, assault and battery (not on reader)

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: when tour manager!reader gets sucked into the rock world after big time group ‘dark curse’ seeks her out to plan and arrange their tour in the us. heinous secrets unfold about the group as she gets closer to the pink haired lead singer in the ‘bone demon’ mask. does she run for the hills or does she play cat and mouse? find out in "houston, we have a problem!"

deep wine velvety curtains creaked under your grip, anxious irises brimming over the surface of the masses roaring below the stage. backstage, the thrum of the bass vibrated the walls with a resonance that pounded through the protective ear buds you and the crew wore. the wind lapped through the humid open arena, like lashes from the deep currents of waves rushing against jagged edges of rocky cliffs.

dark curses, the japanese band you and your sister were hired to be tour managers for, succeeded in finishing their first tour stop in houston, texas. 

“sis? everything’s alright? we got to make sure the boys end up at the hotel.”

your head swiveled to meet the sweet gaze of your older sister, hayden, who’s deep red manicure stroked your shoulder in typical, concerned sibling fashion. 

“i’m fine, just making sure that everything is wrapping up soundly out there. i’ll call the hotel and you’ll have the tour bus come to the back right? like usual?” you maintained with a graceful simper, something in between grateful and awkward. 

“you know it, girl! call me when you’re done so we can walk to our car together!” and with a dapple of a kiss to your cheek, hayden was off, heels clicking into the distance. 

set to do your own job in hopes that the night will be over sooner than later, your feet pick up the pace, only settling down once you reach the dressing room area. no chances of a bad call when the service is best where the band resides before and after their concert. booking the best of the best is mandatory in this career field, nobody likes a cheap tour manager. so, you diligently do your job acknowledging the price and qualities is up to standards of the band’s liking. 

but… when chills travel down your spine like electricity cracked down with the following boom, you immediately stop in your tracks. it almost feels.. predatory. like the gaze of an animal hiding in verdant bushes in the stocky forest waiting. watching. hoping that something sweet and delightful prances by to slaughter. 

whipping around ready to high-tail it, you surveyed your surroundings, close to a gazelle when a mountain lion roar is heard nearby. a curious scarlet gaze examined the soft dips and curves you presented from the silhouette of your metallic jumpsuit. sharp, angular features, a full set of bitten, red lips that looked as if he had just previously enriched in a pomegranate, and thick strands of sakura-colored hair pulled into a low braid cascading down past his ribs. dark ink trailed from the highs of his cheekbones past under the collar of his onyx leather jacket. he was undeniably ethereal, like those old stories mama used to tell about fallen angels. how they were once mystic angels, but had been casted down onto earth to walk with the rest of the sinners.

ryomen sukuna. lead singer of ‘dark curses’.  you weren’t quite familiar with the group out of their professional pretense, however, something swirled in the pit of your stomach at the lilt in his husky somber. 

“somebody’s all jumpy.. i like that. much more alert than our last manager.” maybe there was a teasing tone in his voice. maybe the way his fangs that gleamed in the dark trenches of the backstage were all just a prop. maybe something isn’t rig-.

“what happened.. to your last manager?” you didn’t mean to vomit those words out, your anxiety clutching the beating tremors of your heart and shocking your nerves. but, your natural instinct to fight or flight was starting to zero in. eyebrows furrowing as your feet began to back up to create more distance. 

and to that.. he snickered in delight, heavy laced boots stalking close just enough to be arms distance away from you. your eyes held a hardened resolve but your body shuttered, reacting involuntarily to his scent of deep umber and smoke. 

“so what? are you perchance riding in the bus with us? there’s more than enough-”

“no, we have a chauffeur to make sure you guys have as much comfortability as possible. i… appreciate the offer though.” a small, forced grimace tilted the corners of your mouth along with the narrowing of your eyes before moving to step side him. the melodic chime of your sister calling out to you rung much louder as your heels click farther and farther away from him. 

but under his breath, you swore you heard a faint mumble that strung your shoulders tighter. 

“you won’t always be able to avoid me, [...].”

“are you sure it’s him, hayden? there’s no fucking way it can be, right?”

you and your sister sprawled out of the expensive cotton sheets of the hotel’s king sized bed. orange hues from old tiffany lamps ablaze the white plaster walls, creating a soft glow away from the moonlit path shining from the balcony window. It had been three days since the last time you both had seen the group, recuperating to be ready to venture out on the road to the next city, atlanta.

but, tragedy had struck in the deep city of houston. hayden broke through the door late in the chilled evening to announce the news. your driver, an older man named clark, was brutally assaulted in what seemed to be a mob attack that led him to be unconscious in a hospital bed. this wasn't like clark to get in situations that would incur violence in the first place.  something’s in the water.. and you had a feeling that it’s closer than you think. 

“it’s him, [..]. i’m for certain that it’s him, i already paid his hospital bills and sent our condolences. i mean-.. he has a family. grandchildren. i can’t imagine how they feel right now.” 

your older sisters’s breath trembled, eyes perspirating with wet unshed tears as she stumbled over her words. your reflection matched hers, an unmistakable sorrow simmering between the both of you. 

 “I’m thankful for ryomen offering us to ride in their tour bus. that was kind of him. ” she softly wept, dapping her salty tears with the silk sleeve of her pajamas, a brand that you were sure she had no idea the name of. 

wait.. what? 

your gaze whipped towards hers, questions spiraling in your mind as if someone blew a house of cards down. how did he know? was he told by hayden? why would he go out of his way to offer up the tour bus that was presented to them? so many question, yet an extreme lack of answers. 

swirling like lightening through the depths of a tornado was the tone of his voice that day when you left his side. those words.. the words she was so sure she had mistakenly heard.

 ‘tomorrow,’ you settled in your mind with a harden resolve. tommorow, you would observe and keep your distance. 

the sky painted plum and raspberry delight in brush-like strokes in the eerily early morning in houston, texas. morning dew dipped in the sage beauty of the long stems of grass as they ventured past the parking lot in the journey towards the tour bus. the city was quiet, like it was holding its breath. waiting for something to arise. 

outside , near the broad doors of the bus, a man with smoky brown hair wrapped into two loose ponytails on the top of his head tipped them an angled smile. not forced, but not genuine either. his chestnut eyes sunk in with purple hues decorating the bags under his fair  skin as if it has been decades since he last felt a soft pillow support his head. 

in his broad hands, sparked what looked like an old rusted lighter burning the orange end of his cigarette to life. as you two soared past him, offering small hellos, he stood in silence only blowing out puffs of smoke from his lungs. 

choso, you recalled his name from the research that you and you sister conducted on the group. he was the drummer, preferring not to speak unless spoken to. an odd one, you heard rumors he prefers to write their pieces in the cemetery with the two guitarist. 

“okay then..” you muttered, already feeling a bit weary of your surroundings. 

stepping up into the tour bus, the air thickened with invisible smog, constructing around your throat and squeezing like a vice. again, the damn feeling of being watched surfaced, but this time you neglected the carnivorous examination.

instead, your eyes scampered over towards the interaction between your sister and the two guitarists, satoru gojo and suguru geto. they both stood at staggering heights, so far up that both of them had to sulk under the overheads of storage trunks right above their seats. 

it almost felt intentional to you. the starking extreme differences.

platinum white strands against long obsidian locks. icy blue like an alaskan spring against a deep hazy violet, a winter’s bloom. boyish charm versus a sly fox’s seduction. so similar, yet the distinctive differences flow with each of their complexities. 

oh, one more thing. 

both of their gazes turned a little darker at the sight of your sister. while satoru grinned and hopped up from his seat to usher hayden between the two, suguru placed his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. between the three of them, no space was required. they breathed in each other’s air. lost in the world of three.

clearly, this has been ongoing, and once your sister peeked over her massive playthings to lock eyes with you, it confirmed all you needed to know. 

“later..” you mouthed, narrowing your gaze at her. she is grown indeed… and older, but you were sisters. And she damn sure would have been riding your ass if you kept any parts of your love life from her. 

not that you had any-

“ooh, i was wondering where your claws went, tiger.” damn him and his chilling baritone voice. you didn’t have to turn in his direction to pick guesses on who had a thing for frightening you. his slender fingers gestured to the spot next to him.

“ryomen.” you huffed, eyes simmering with defiance. you plopped arrogantly across from him, which only made the amusement dancing in his scarlet orbs all much more fiery. 

he played with the darker ends of his pale pink hair, down and in pristine condition. He wore black on black, opting for something comfortable on the drive then the leather ensemble you saw him in the days before. 

“i see you ended up here, just like i knew you would.”

silence simmered in the air, your brows furrowing with time as his words sunk into your chest, falling deeper into the rhythmic beats. how? how did he fucking know? the more and more you questioned his behavior, the more it starts to sound like a sick horror movie. 

he leans closer, hand closing in on the soft curve of your jawline. his calloused hand tilted your face just a bit closer.. noses nearly touching in earnest. You sucked in a breath, heat flickering in the depths of your stomach as your brain tries it hardest to catch up with the change. 

attempts were fruitful, that blazing expression of his mirroring the crackling allure to yours. 

you hadn’t noticed that your sister watched, that choso climbed back on the bus, or that wheels began to roll. no. it was almost like he had you hypnotize with that flicker of a scarlet glow in his irises-

“mmm, go to sleep, tiger. the road ahead will be long.”

there was no room to question him and his strange behavior. your eyelids fluttered with strange obedience, darkness creeping in from the corner of your vision. haziness wooed you into a pair of strong, cold arms before you dipped into an abyss of sleep. 

all work belongs to to @aaazade please do not copy, translate without permission, or post my work! let me know if anyone would like to be apart of my taglist as i post each episode. hope you enjoyed episode one!

[thepencilnerd]

Vampire!Chishiya

Chishiya is a doctor who finds his world upended when a patient is rushed into the ER after a devastating accident. The intoxicating scent of your blood ignites a primal hunger within him. Driven by an insatiable desire, he realizes he must have you—no matter the cost.

rating: mature/explicit

warnings: dark!fic, toxic relationship, obsessive, manipulative, and possessive behavior, blood-drinking/sharing, momentary self-injury (not due to depression or SI), blood magic/ritual

word count: 18k

complete fic here, please mind tags <3 (niragi cameo only in the last chapter, sorry :(

[its-luna-noel]

in my restless dreams, i see you | various!jjk x reader

01. you look lonely, i can fix that

Vampire lord Ryomen Sukuna gives you the gift of eternal life. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. vampire lord!sukuna x reader vampire!geto x reader vampire hunter!gojo x reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, vampire!au, smut, drinking, partying, non-con elements, blood drinking, vampire turning, violence & blood, definite dark themes so DD:DNE

word count: 2.0k

chapter: 1/? next chapter

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi welcome to the first chapter of restless dreams! this fic is inspired by the album by the same name by Savage Ga$p & KAMAARA. hope you enjoy xx

also quick note on reader: pov is fem!reader, no use of y/n. can be read with any physical characteristics, when i mention pallor that just means a lack of typical color, not necessarily white (only mentioning cause i reject stephanie meyer’s idea that vamps can’t be black/brown). okay thx bye

It’s your twentieth birthday when you’re turned.

Heavy bass thumps loudly through the club as you walk inside, hips swaying just enough to make your pretty little sundress flutter around your thighs. Your heels are just impressive enough to turn eyes towards you as you walk to the bar, heads turning and eyes roaming as you walk past. You flash a charming smile at the bartender and order your favorite drink.

Nobara sighs as she comes up beside you, leaning against the bar. “People are staring,” she tells you.

You offer that same smile, now with a mischievous twist. “That’s the point. I bet I won't have to pay for a single drink tonight.”

She sighs again when the bartender hands you your drink and slides her card across the bar top. “Starting now, I guess. Happy birthday.”

You just grin and take a long drink, tipping your head back and exposing the column of your throat. “Thanks, Nobes.”

A gentle hand comes to your back, and you look over as Maki comes around your shoulder to stand next to Nobara. She’s wearing a small smirk as she examines your face; it’s clear you’ve been pregaming for hours, if not all afternoon. “You ready to get dancing?”

You nod, taking another drink before taking the girls by the hand and leading them to the dance floor.

It’s a busy night; the floor is crowded with groups of friends just like yours dancing together. Flashing lights nearly blind you, but you don’t even care because you’re intoxicated by the smokey air and by the alcohol moving sluggishly through your veins. As soon as you find an open space, you drop your friends’ hands and lift your own into the air, reaching towards the stars as you start moving your hips to the sultry music.

You let the bass guide your movements, let the beat of the music move through your body as you tip your head back to take another sip from your drink. Condensation starts to drip from the side of the glass, and sweat beads on the side of your face, but you’re smiling with your eyes closed because it’s all so euphoric, and as you sing loudly to your favorite songs, you’re sure you’ll live forever.

Because what are your early twenties but immortality?

Nobara and Maki sing along too, and you’re all dancing together, throwing it back against each other’s hips in the sluttiest moves you’ve ever made, and you’re all laughing because you all love each other so deeply.

But that love isn’t what you’re looking for tonight.

And so when Nobara turns to Maki and takes her hips in her hands, grinding playfully against her ass with another boisterous laugh, you grin and shout over the music. “Want something to drink?”

They both nod, grinning back, and you totter off towards the bar, empty glasses propped up in your hands.

You order three more.

While you wait, watching the girls dance together, you feel the shadow of an indomitable presence behind you, and you’re already shivering before you even hear the voice in your ear, before you feel the soft brush of breath against your hair.

“You look lonely.”

You slowly turn, and your eyes widen a little.

Your eyes land first on black markings, thick lines of tattoos on skin that you’re sure might be rude to stare at, but you can’t help it. It’s the first thing you see, and then your drunken mind finally flickers and focuses on scarlet eyes gazing down at you, a dangerous smirk curling lips that are just as dangerous.

You feel like you’re seeing a walking nightmare, an incarnated desire, a realized fantasy. Standing next to you, coming to lean against the bar beside you, which causes him to stoop slightly from his incredible height.

“I can fix that,” he continues, and his smirk seems to only grow. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You blink, coming back to yourself, and shake your head a little. “I just ordered one,” you tell him.

He hums, and the sound rumbles deep in his broad chest. “That’s a shame,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes roam over you, from your face, down the curve of your throat, over your chest, down your belly to your hips, to your legs and feet adorned in heels…

You fight to swallow under the weight of his gaze.

His eyes finally flicker back to yours, and he smirks again. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying your own drinks,” he continues, and it feels like he’s chastising you, like he’s disappointed in you. You flush a little at his tone; you’ve never been spoken to like that, like you’re a misbehaving little puppy, and it sends heat through your body.

You stammer a response. “I-it’s going on my friend’s tab.”

He chuckles, a low sultry noise. “Ah, I see. And what’s the occasion?”

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you can’t help but answer. “It’s my birthday.”

His eyes light up a little, and his smirk widens into a full-blown grin. “Your birthday, huh? Well, then, I have to buy you a drink now. Can’t let the birthday girl go without a little gift, eh? How’s that sound, pretty girl; let me buy you your next drink?”

You couldn’t argue if you wanted to; you’re pliant under his dangerous gaze. You just nod obediently, watching his smile grow. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you.

You flush deeply at his words.

The bartender slides three drinks your way, and you wrap your hands around your glass, tipping it back and finishing it quickly. Then you grab the other two and nod your head towards your friends. “Let me give them these,” you say, hoping he won’t be gone when you come back.

He seems to see the question in your eyes; he smirks again. “I’ll be here,” he says.

So you hurry away, and try not to slosh the drinks all over you as you walk towards Nobara and Maki, still on the dance floor.

The girls are watching you closely, curiously, cautiously. You hand them your drinks, giving them a very particular look that they could recognize as excitement, and you mouth oh my god, he’s so hot, and neither of them can argue, because goddamn you caught a good one.

So they just offer smiles and mouth back go get him.

And so, once they take their drinks from your hands, you flutter back towards the bar, returning to the stranger’s side.

He offers a slow, lazy smile, gesturing to the bartender. “Order what you want,” he says, voice sending another shiver down your spine, because you can tell exactly what he’s thinking about doing to you if you stay in his presence.

But he’s just as intoxicating as the ethanol in your system, and so you stay, giggling and ordering yet another drink.

He continues to examine you with that heavy gaze, those dangerous eyes. “What’s your name?” he asks, eyes unabashedly roaming over your face, your throat, again.

You take it as a compliment. You tell him your name, and he hums and repeats it, and you have to hold back another giggle; it sounds so good coming from between his lips.

You want to hear it over and over again.

“Sukuna,” he introduces himself, and even just his name sends a shiver through you, because you can already feel the power he has over you. Then he says, “Dance with me.” It doesn’t sound like a question.

You nod anyway. “Okay,” You say, and once you finish your drink, you offer him your hand.

He takes it and guides you to the dance floor, his steps slow and measured, so confident it practically makes your knees shake. His hand is firm and surprisingly cool around yours, and when he’s got you back on the dance floor, he grabs your hip and pulls you back against his body.

His muscles are hard against your back, and his arousal is hard against your ass.

His large hand on your hip roams slowly, sensually, across your belly, tangling in your dress to feel the soft heat of you through the fabric. Then he moves back to your hip, gripping the flesh around bone to hold you in place as he starts to grind against you, his movements confident and practiced.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you press your ass back against him, swaying your hips against his. You feel his fingers tighten on your hip, and you know he’s just as affected by you as you are by him.

He dips his head to press a slowly, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your throat. Your lashes flutter as your eyes fall shut, and you tip your head out of the way for him, and you can feel him smile against your skin as he kisses lower, then lower.

He reaches the spot above your pulse, and he inhales slowly, breathing in the scent of you, your perfume, your sweat. You shiver as his breath fans across your skin, sending goosebumps rising along your skin. He chuckles quietly and moves another inch lower, moving towards the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“So pretty,” he murmurs into your skin, nuzzling into the curve there.

You tip your head back against his shoulder and close your eyes, hips still moving against his to the music. Your head feels light and airy, like you’re floating, and you know you’ve gotten too drunk, that you’ve put yourself in a dangerous position, but you can’t even bring yourself to care, because he dances so well against you. His hands move everywhere you want them, coming up to palm your breast through your dress, long fingers dragging down the neckline so he can catch a glimpse of your lacy bra.

He grunts against your neck, squeezing and massaging the soft tissue. “Pretty,” he says, and for some reason the word sounds like Mine.

You wouldn’t even mind if that’s what he meant.

It’s oppressively hot in the club, especially with him touching you like this, his palm now sliding back down your body to play with the skirt covering your upper thighs, like he wants to lift it up right there and take you in front of everyone. You’re not even sure if you’d stop him, if you’d want him to stop, his aura is just that overpowering, convincing, dominating. But he doesn’t; he just tugs the fabric back and forth, watching how it clings to your body.

You’re sweating, but his touch, his breath, his tongue are all much cooler than you would’ve expected.

That cool tongue brushes against your pulse point, and he finally lets out a small groan. “Damn,” he breathes against your neck. “Taste so good.”

You whimper softly, grinding back against him harder, movements needy and desperate.

He chuckles, the hand that’s been holding you still by the hip finally trailing up your body. His palm runs over your neck, gripping gently as he tips your head to the side. “You wanna leave, little girl?” he asks you, voice low, rumbling beneath the loud rhythm of the bass.

You nod, moaning softly as his lips press against your neck again. “Please,” you whisper.

He just chuckles again, noise pleased but slightly derisive. “Alright,” he says, and he pulls away, letting his hands drop from your body as he instead grabs your hand and starts to lead you off the dance floor. “Let’s go, then.”

You turn over your shoulder, catching Nobara’s eye, and flash a big smile and a thumbs up. Then you face forward again and follow obediently into the night.

thanks for reading! -luna xx next chapter