#man this sucks dookie

[fire-in-my-woods]

❗️LIS: DOUBLE EXPOSURE (MILD) SPOILERS ❗️

VINH LANG GANG LEMME HEAR YOU

[badcountryofficial]

Wow! That was dogshit!

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my lady?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like them?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course… Satoru.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight.” 

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

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

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

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

~  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

“It was… good.”

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

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

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

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

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

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

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

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

“You’re not… eating?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

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

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

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

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

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

~

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You skip ahead again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

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

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About the estate?” he asks. 

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

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

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

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

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

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

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

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

“S-Satoru–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Ten)

CW: PIV (no protection, use it irl), cream pies, angst, brief description of oral (f receiving), drama time!!!

P.S. this is kinda dooky my bad

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Everything was white-hot, a strum of fulfilment working through every muscle, scorching blood pumping through your veins, constricting your breath with every knock against your cervix. Teeth indented your neck, crescent moons scarring the flesh with every breath that rang against your throat.

Simon was everywhere.

Whether it was hands gripping at your ass, kneading the flesh between over-worked palms, or his tongue licking at your neck, cleaning the peppered wounds he flourished into your skin, he was there.

Black face paint stained your chest, stygian stains tearing down your breasts with every drop of water, his eyes seizing all colour as his pupils dilated, lapping in the sight of you with every dip of his crusted lashes. He was almost feral, grunting with every deep thrust, enjoying the way you drew him in with every suck of your creamy cunt, every stutter of a breath that whispered against his ear, every splutter of your lungs that filled with water as your mouth held open over the spurting faucet.

His chest was swollen with pride, a sick sense of satisfaction running through him at your expression, your body docile against his grip as your eyes squeezed into crinkled slits. You were utterly fucked on his sheath, his hips pistoling into yours like it was his duty to pleasure you, to bring you to that high he was desperately chasing to feel.

Dark curls brushed against your crotch with every drive of his cock, your tender nipples against his aggravated skin, the skin that was torn from his preposterous labour. His fingers were cruel, toying at your clit with ease as you dug your fingernails into the chisel of his back, coarse muscles reacting to the touch.

You felt fuzzy; your mouth jutted open with a whine as your body succumbed to him, torturous rolls of pressure building in your stomach.

“I’ve missed feeling you around me,” he rasped, his voice splintered with frustration. Frustration that he hadn’t had a proper release since his departure, frustration that he was away from you, frustration that the man was catching feelings faster than he believed he should.

“Missed you,” you mewled, squeezing him coherently with your words, a guttural groan sounding from the man.

Your bodies melted into the water, colliding with each other’s limbs as Simon came inside you, hot spurts of come plugging your cunt with a grunt as he pulled out, a stutter of a breath sounding from you as your legs wobbled onto the ground, muscles spasming in retaliation.

Simon’s fingers were gentle, working the loofah over your relaxed state as your neck cocked. You were so supine around him. Why? Don’t you know what kind of person he is? How many people he’s killed?

“Simon?”

The Lieutenant cleared his throat, staring at you as you pushed his hand away from the same spot he had been rubbing for the last minute.

“Sorry, got lost in thought.”

You offered him a polite smile, pressing a kiss on the corner of his mouth before sudsing the sponge back up, your touch delicate as you ran over his bruises. Simon’s eyes slacked, consumed by nothing as he drifted into thought, enthralled in his work.

Gunpowder skinned his nose, staining his nostrils with the thickness of burnt flesh and stolen lives, the sound of begging and retaliation engorging his brain as he shoved you away, a harsh grunt leaving his lips as he shook off his head, stepping out of the steam.

“Simon? What – are you ok?”

“I have to go, Y/N.”

Autumn had consumed your garden, the green rotting into a moulded brown, a dead stream of leaves scattered like a path to your front door. The air was thick with wet dirt and burnt coffee, a flurry of frogs making a home in one of your unused watering cans. The sky was angrier, often lashing out on the planet in the form of rain and thunder.

Time was going by quicker, the end of September reaching up to you as you crossed an ‘X’ over your calendar. It had been almost 3 weeks since you had spoken to Simon.

You had tried.

It began as chasing him out of the shower in nothing but a towel, your head dripping wet, which turned to you knocking on his door a day later with cookies again, availed by no answer. That turned into you sitting outside the front more in hopes of seeing him.

You didn’t.

You were confused at first, your heart aching slightly at the sudden switch between the man. You had taken it out on your garden, aggravated fists pummelling at the soil like a child throwing a tantrum. It wasn’t long until you summed it down to him not wanting anything serious and left it at that.

You were disappointed, hushing yourself to sleep on your satin pillow as you attempted to listen to any sound of him on the other side. You were also a big girl.

If he was that easy to lose, you never had him in the first place.

The fall air was heavy with familiarity as you piled into the busy parking lot, a swarm of pine trees greeting you, their leaves a vibrant display of orange and yellow, pointed outwards with desperation.

It was a little tradition you had kept for yourself: carving pumpkins.

Everything was crisp. There was an over-ripe stench of cinnamon consuming you from passing cider stalls with the sound of families bustling around with candied apples and hot drinks.

You spotted Tamara in the distance, her boyfriend Max next to her, hugging himself in an attempt for warmth as she tapped him on the shoulder, her hand waving frantically at you.

“Hello!” She cooed, pulling you into a needed hug. She smelt like pumpkin and vanilla, almost gagging you at how much she had drowned herself in perfume. Her hair matched the Autumn air, an earthy red catching your attention as you ran your fingers through the heated curls.

“New hair?” You asked, smiling brightly as you adjusted the scarf around your neck.

“Needed a change,” she said, wrapping her arm into Max’s, who began rambling about how he was going to make the best Jack-o-Lantern.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you; Louis is coming. Is that ok?”

The pit in your stomach coiled for a minute, a remembrance of the last time you saw him in that café with Simon before you nodded.

“Of course!”

Louis stepped out of his car, the bristle of a chill in the air reminding him of where he grew up as he tugged at his cashmere jumper, the blue colour leading him to stand out like a sore thumb until he saw you, a familiar shade adorning you.

His voice was soft as he greeted you, Max and Tamara immediately walking off to pick out their pumpkins.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been well,” you say, gazing at the row of orange surrounding you, children running in between passing couples as you pointed to the fattest vegetables surrounding you.

“I didn’t mean to intrude when you were out with your boyfriend-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct, taking in how harsh your tone was before placing your hand on his shoulder, “You didn’t intrude on anything. I would – I would love to go out with you.”

It felt wrong to get all dolled up for someone else. Red stained your lips, and your teeth, as you rubbed at them aggressively in the mirror, a black silk dress falling from your skin elegantly. Your eyes were shaded with a fine liner, a smoky hue of brown on your lash line as you spritz your more expensive perfume for the occasion.

Louis was different, fancier, you suppose. His Jaguar skidded against the gravel, an irritated scowl on his face before he watched you peek through the window, an amused look on your face as you opened the front door.

“You look beautiful,” the man said, holding a bouquet of red roses in his hand, tied with a pearl string. You shared dinner over a bottle of Cabernet and ended it with his hand on your thigh, his engine roaring down your cul-de-sac with glee as you kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for tonight, I enjoyed it.”

It should have ended there. But it didn’t.

It felt wrong to get undressed for someone else. It felt wrong to feel someone else kiss against your pudgy clit and lap at your slick. It felt wrong to buck your hips to meet his, your chest groped with a layer of sweat from another man’s mouth.

Could he hear you? Did he care?

He did.

[bokunoheros]

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER - day 12 squirting : shouta aizawa/eraserhead

warnings : afab reader, reader and aizawa are married, y’all have a cat, pussy slapping (pun probably intended), this is doo-doo dog shit, like this actually sucks, doo doo fart ass, dookie, poo poo fart, smegma, this fic reads like what sharting yourself feels like, this fic smells like the family bathroom at walmart, we’re fucking twelve (not literally), don’t expect anything else genuinely, butt, pretend this was never posted, PLEASE, day 12 is NOT REAL, THEY HIT THE PENTAGON— MR PRESIDENT GET DOW— bill gates did it, bill cypher is canon, squirting, fingering idk, eating ass, butthole rimming, 2024 election, ellen digestive did 9/11, Trump x Biden, 9/11, hilary emails included, proof of aliens existence, video footage of the area 51 raid, UFOs, alien butt sex, wrong usage of condoms, anal probing, biological dna harboring, sickle cell anemia, KLANCE is canon, Steven universe, major character death, gem fusions, love children, feel like cinderella naega byeonhae, NETFLIX ORIGIONAL, only on Hulu, Elsa x Jackfrost smut, playdough, me x YOU, tiana x nanami au, your mom x me, sarcamouche x kazuha, xiao x venti, improper use of crack cocaine, making herion, mentions of drug mules, dead dove: do eat, improper use of magic, meth making, cocaine balloons bursting, Harry Potter x Snape, hermoine x the whomping willow, herobrine x steve, unfortunate uses of pixels, bakudeku slime, hnnng harder daddy, mmhppgh— yeah yeah right there, cum consumption, cumflation, feeder fetish, oh yeah, koolaid man x me, very improper use of koolaid packets, nickacaco avocado weight loss journey, apology videos (tears included), , banjos, jake paul dcead body in forest footage (NOT CLICKBAIT), live leak posts, webtoon origional, anal stretching, did you know the human anus can stretch to the size of a raccoon?, now you know that, and also, the sun will explode June 17th, 3028, character flaws, bodily anatomy, your balls will explode on october 21st at 7:99am, my gleeby deeby ass, futurama, Micheal Angelo, improper use of abortions, medical surgery on a grape, plastic surgery, baby killing, tampon usage, description of endangered animal poaching, Mario Kart, tuberculosis, ima get it donnnne oh aye oh aye oh, butt stuff, dazai x chuuya, atsushi x akutagawa, mpreg, mad cow disease, omegaverse, ranpo x me, Dream SMP, matpat x scott cowthan, michael afton x freddy fazbear, aggressive typing, bath salts, bath salt inhalation, whippets, galaxy gas, all might is a bottom, skinny men, carrington x shigaraki, anorexia anorexia anorexia, afo x nana shimura, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, TW gun law debates, tenko x mon, Amazon delivery, school shootings, talk of gun laws, bad dragon toys, silicon, aoyama belly button leaking, lego ninjago r34, ninja turtles r34, bloody mary r34, kamala harris r34, tenya iida x tensei iida, jesus x judas, luigi x bowser, sonic and shadow makeout sesh, i fuck your dad, suck his dick reallll nice, penis sounding with dirty twig, orgasm denial, overstimulation, xenotransplants, oviposition, diaper Taco Bell, people die, revival, dark magic, ecoterrorism, global warming, chemical warfare, wanda x the winter soldier, haruhi x tamaki suoh, cosmo x wanda, comicon, bronies, pegasisters, mentions of twilight sparkle dying, twiilight sparkle x mordecai, air planes, shootings stars, night skies, NLE Choppa, we could really use a wish bro, TuPac is back, floppa carts: plompy haze, death of a platform known as tumblr, twitter referred to as X, elon musk creates sex robot that specializes in butthole sex, Tesla sex robot, androids that FUCK, necrophilia, android phone usage, pheromones, premonitions and words of Jesus, divine intution, potion making, heavenly visions, satan, satanic visions, the heavenly principles, celestia is above mondstadt, spiritual healing, veganism, white washing, canon hispanic hanta sero, futanari, blasian mina ashido, bovine spongiforms, Tenya Iida virginity loss, bakugo is a fucking faggot, handjobs, footjobs, peaceful protests, the government is controlling you through vaccines, asian fishing,

vaccines might cause autism, freshwater fishing, they will, xenophobia, hentai hucows, incest, usage of slurs, starbucks coffee, lizards run the world, obama might be a lizard, inappropriate use of baby oil, gojo x getou, day twelve never existed and it was all a lie.

word count : 420k words and 69 pages

🐙 note : we are not locked in we are as loose as a ran through sorority president

🦊 note : i am. i have no words. idek what happened. we ran out of time so we went with the option we thought might make people giggle (no we didnt we did this bullshit for ourselves)(your regularly scheduled content will resume tmr!)

🪲 note : i ain’t fucking sorry

you adored your husband—shouta aizawa—so much so, that you were his dedicated housewife. he made plenty of money as a pro hero and… enough… as a teacher, so that left you to take care of the house and your shared cat. though when he did come home he was way different than he was at work, usually at work he was all nonchalant and cold but at home he was sweet and caring, sometimes even a bit rough. his students would definitely describe him as laid back and uninterested, yet when you were around they were in awe of his personality shift.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

I LOVE STEVEN ADLER HES MY ONE AND ONLY i genuinly love this man so much i think im gonna die hes literally such a sweetheart, cutie pie, pookie dookie, honeysuckle, babe, gentleman im so in love i think we're soulmates and my last words will be a sweet whisper of his name, i was born to love him to death. Im biting off my own fucking skin i love this man so much hes literally the embodyment of love and purity. His beautiful long blonde hair that looks like liquid gold has me on a chokehold, his beautifully alluring blue eyes that reminds people of the ocean, and his beautiful name, the way i moan and whimper it just proves that we were meant to be and i was born to love him and he was born to love me, his fucking sexy ass voice makes him literally walking sex, he geta me so horny and riled UP holy shit i love this man AND HIS DAMN SMILE it is so fucking adorable i think i might actually die, if he was alive during the darkened days his smile would have automatically brought light to the entire solar system, his smile is as bright and as warm as the sun damn that smile just makes me wanna sit on his face and ride it like a fucking horse. BUT NOW WE GET ON FUCKING BUSINESS i want this man to rail me, cum in me, bend me over the kitchen island and give me backshots, i mean just imagine him giving you backshots- i want him to kiss me, smooch me, peck me, penetrate me, and the wat id suck that dick so hard the foreskin would probably fall right off, the way id suck the semen right out of his balls, the way id be an ENTIRE VACUUM CLEANER for this man damn like yes ill do the cooking, cleaning, raising the kids, do the groceries, run all fucking erands, just rail me until my legs dont even function anymore, paralize me with that dick, get me fucking pregnant man i love you. And also USE ME AS YOUR PERSONAL CUMDUMP UNTIL THE DAY HE DIES i dont give a FUCK if hes old and crusty and musty and he cant get hard anymore he can take those pills and get hard and ill be boucing up and down that dick like its a fucking trampoline park and spread my cheeks out so wide i split into two and turn into a mobius strip like what????? this man can do so many things to me man. In conclusion i want him to kiss and suck my lips, both of em and ill suck his dick, with or without pubes, clean or not idgaf if he hasnt showered or is covered in sweat ill still go down on that man and suck him dry and eat him like hes my last fucking meal, I want him to dominate and use me like a fucking slave working on the fields, i want him to objectify me like damn, self respect and feminism disappears from my body and brain the second i see him, when i see him i become a fucking wild rabid dog with rabies, like im foaming at the mouth violently vibrating at the sight of him, no not even sight, at the thought of him i just want to whip out a gun and shove it up my posay and pretend its his fire hard ass dick, i dont want him i need him hes a fucking nececity like water and oxygen i fucking love, want, need, am desparate for this man. I LOVE HIM WTF! hes a fucking majestic god in my eyes as im blessed at the sight of this heavenly creation of a man, god motherfucking damn i love him. Gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure whenever i see this man cause im so inlove with him and i physically can not live without him. I love you Steven Adler ! ❤️

I am not reading all that but someone else might

[aizawas-dryeye]

➭take it slower, make you lose control (satosugu)**

content: loss of virginity, anal sex, oral sex, teasing, premature ejaculation, top!gojo, bottom!geto, au of some kind idk maybe college, i imagine them being like 19-21

words: 4.2k

ko-fi

!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

jus two bros exploring sexuality

uhh also im trying to format my fics different so if this looks like dookie ass then keep it to urself MWAH

• • •

Geto wasn't entirely sure if Gojo was being serious when he proposed they sleep together, after an otherwise casual discussion of sexuality. Now, staring at the 'u comin over?' text, he remembers exactly who he's dealing with. Satoru Gojo isn't one to back down from anything he deems important enough for his time and attention. And it's clear he's invested in this. Perv...

Carding a hand through his hair, Geto sends a quick text back and makes his way to Gojo's dorm. The walk there is agonizing. It's just long enough that the anticipation-induced anxiety starts clawing at his chest, but short enough that he doesn't have time to fully prepare before he's knocking on the door. Gojo opens it with a wide, smug grin on his face that makes Geto wanna crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

The second Gojo opens his mouth to undoubtably say something asinine, Geto grumbles out a "Don't," and pushes into the bedroom. He earns a giggle in response before Gojo turns to splay himself over the bed, all long-limbed and far too cocky about all this.

"Sooooo..." he hums, pulling his sunshades down his nose so he can stare at the younger man with those frighteningly pretty eyes. Geto shudders to think what all he can see with those eyes, especially in this moment.

"Top or bottom?"

There's a beat of stunned silence that makes Gojo throw his head back in a fit of laughter. "Oh come on, Sugu. There's no point in gettin' shy now, right? I mean, we are about to have sex," he says, like it's the most casual thing in the world. The teasing lilt in his voice sets Geto's face ablaze, and his eyes widen so much he's surprised they don't pop right out of his skull.

"Hey now, I never actually agreed to this," Geto huffs out quickly, trying to compose himself, but the way he's awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot under Gojo's gaze is a dead giveaway. The latter takes a second to rake his eyes across his friend's tense body before sucking his teeth.

"You're here, aren't you?"

This is torturous. Leave it to Gojo to turn any situation into an uncomfortable nightmare for Geto. Like he lives to torment him. He doesn't even have time to think of a rebuttal before Gojo is sitting up on the edge of the bed, and beckoning him closer. Not unlike a deadly siren, he thinks, before his feet automatically obey the command.

He makes sure to keep a healthy amount of distance between them; an anxious little display that makes Gojo scoff and pull the man closer by the waistband of his uniform pants.

"Lighten up, Sugu," he purrs, now tilting his head back to look up at him. His expression shifts momentarily, a flash of sincerity across his face that calms Geto's anxiety, if only a little, before falling back into that familiar smugness. "I ain't gonna bite. Unless you want me to. Of course."

The line is so cheesy it actually makes Geto's lips quirk up in a little smile. He rolls his eyes and lets Gojo paw at him, knowing how touchy he is.

"Shut up," he mumbles before glancing around the room— the posters on the wall, the messy sheets— any and everything to avoid looking down.

His thoughts are racing. Is he even ready for this? Obviously he is, he's here and this has been plaguing his mind for months, but it's all so overwhelming and new. Geto's had sex before, sure, but not like this and certainly not with a close friend. Picking at his chipping nail polish, he musters up enough courage to look at Gojo finally. Might as well go all in.

"I think... bottom?"

Gojo grins like the Cheshire Cat and digs his fingers into Geto's hips, surprised at how giving and squishy the flesh is. In one quick motion he flips them so their positions are swapped, Gojo now bending to his knees in front of his cherry red friend.

"Say no more, Sugu!" he chirps. He absentmindedly runs his hands up and down Geto's thighs, unknowingly setting his blood on a fire trail straight to his crotch. If Gojo notices he doesn't say a thing, and Geto can't decide if that's better or worse. "You ever had anything up there? Any of your girlies try to sneak a finger or two?"

Oh god, that makes his cock twitch, just the thought of it. Geto shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. An annoying little gasp escapes him when Gojo's lithe fingers untie his harem pants.

"N-no," he breathes. "Nothing like that." The sound of Geto swallowing bounces around in Gojo's head like a sparkly little bouncy ball, gets him all excited with anticipation.

"How sweet! You wanted lil' ol' me to pop your cherry?" he giggles, makes Geto cover his face with his palms and groan. Gojo uses that opportunity to slip the waistband of his pants down. Then his boxers.

His eyes widen when Geto's cock springs up and slaps against his lower belly.

"Christ, I'm a little relieved I'm not bottoming now. Thing looks like it could level a city."

Geto's blush only spreads, even yelps when the cold dorm air hits his junk.

"Do you ever shut up?" he grumbles, peeking through his fingers down at the all-too-pleased albino.

"You already know the answer to that, Suguboo," Gojo hums, pouting his lips a little. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leans down so his face is mere inches from Geto's dick; so close he can feel the heat of it on his lips. "But I can think of something to help keep me quiet for a bit."

Geto doesn't even have time to think before his cockhead is enveloped in the tight, wet heat of Gojo's mouth. It shocks him, makes him choke on a gasp before his thighs squeeze around Gojo's lean shoulders. It's not that different from when girls have sucked him off, but in the exact same vein, it's like a whole new world. It's got the same addictive warmth, but it's more practiced. Maybe because Gojo sucks a lot of dick, or maybe it's the simple fact that those with penises know how the organ works better than those who don't. The fact that Geto's balls tighten at the thought of his best friend choking down dick should probably concern him, but his brain is far too fuzzy to care right now.

"O-oh, fuck," is all he manages to get out before his eyes roll into his skull, and he falls back onto his elbows. He swears he feels Gojo chuckle around his dick, and however silly that is, it sends delicious vibrations down his shaft that have his hips bucking up for more.

Gojo complies easily, happily inviting the entire length into his warm, welcoming mouth. When he gags, Geto's hand flies to his white locks to pull the strands by the roots. His grip only tightens when Gojo very slowly begins to bob his head up and down— up and down and up and down— slowly building up speed when he feels the thighs around his head tremble.

"Toru... T-Toru, oh fuck."

The needy hitch in Geto's voice makes Gojo's cock fight against the fabric of his pants. He pulls off his dick with a pop and quickly replaces his mouth with his hand, the sound of lewd shlicking mixes with Geto's heavy breathing like a symphony.

Blinking up at him, Gojo catches the way sweat clings to his forehead and neck already, so gorgeously it makes him bite his lip.

"Think you're ready for my fingers?" he asks, all cheeky.

Geto swallows immediately and nods, letting out a whine that he tries to cover up by clearing his throat. It's utterly humiliating, how he's been reduced to this after some deepthroating. Not that he wants to stop, no, he wants to lean into it like a sunflower turns to the sun.

And Gojo can tell. Any Gojo Clan member worth his salt can easily decipher body language with his six eyes, and Satoru Gojo can see everything. Beneath that shaky, nervous exterior, Geto is about two seconds away from crawling the walls like a horny demon. Without any further urging on his part, Gojo reaches into his bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lube. As he warms the lube between his long fingers, he swallows Geto's cock down again, resuming the torturous pace he started with.

He starts by stroking Geto's balls with a freshly slick hand. And slowly, ghosting across his perineum to get him used to the feeling, he provides new sensations cautiously despite his own desperation. Geto stops breathing the second his index finger runs across his hole, slicking him up like a whore, if he's honest.

Then Gojo pulls away again to whisper, "Take a breath for me. Gotta loosen up," and Geto obeys like a trained dog. The stretch isn't unbearable at all, but it's new and it's a lot. It makes Geto's eyes pinch shut, tummy muscles tightening from the intrusion that seems to go on and on.

When his finger is entirely and snuggly fit in Geto's hole, Gojo gives him a grace period to adjust, kissing up and down his cock to distract him from any pain.

It seems like the millisecond Gojo feels Geto's muscles relax, he's pulling his finger back out only to drive it in deeper. He's just stroking his insides for now, making sure to push just right, before quickening the little thrusts.

"See?" Gojo says, excited grin plastered on his glossy lips. "Not so bad, huh?" He's far too adorable to be nuzzling Geto's cock, but here he is, nearly purring with every shaky breath the man above him takes.

"Haah, yeah... mm-hm," Geto whispers. He wants to say more. God, he wants to say a lot more, but he refuses to add to the already mountainous ego Gojo has, so he clamps his hands over his mouth to muffle any noises coming out.

Gojo's determined though, leaning down all inconspicuous like to suck one of his balls into his mouth, humming around it while he easily pushes in a second finger. Geto's elbows give out and he lets his back hit the mattress, sinking his teeth into his tongue to keep from crying out.

"Hmph." Gojo pulls away from his balls with a pout. He immediately reaches up and snatches Geto's hands away. "S'not fair if you hide from me. C'mon, stroke my ego a little. I don't care if you think it's embarrassing."

Geto means to roll his eyes in a bitchy way, but instead they roll back when something inside him is struck, forcing an almost pornographic moan out of him. Gojo's fingers hone in on his prostate and ram against it in quick succession, watching the cock in front of him pulse so hard it kicks up a little. Makes his mouth water so much he leans down and leaves wet, sucking kisses on the tip, like he's making out with it.

"F-fuck you..."

Gojo slows down, "Hnnn..." humming like he's really thinking about it, like he isn't dragging his tongue up and down a cock. "Think you're still too tight for that, Sugu. Wouldn't wanna hurt ya," he teases, in a playful, melodic way.

Even with his words, Gojo squeezes a third and final finger past his tight rim and continues fucking the hole. This time he doesn't give Geto a minute to get accustomed to the stretch, and it makes his whines grittier. He reaches forward and grabs a fistful of white hair again to anchor himself as Gojo brings him closer, and closer, and closer—

"N-no, no fuck. Why'd you stop?" Geto whines, chest heaving when Gojo pulls away completely, leaving him feeling uncomfortably empty. He hardly knows what's happening when he's being stripped down, the only thing keeping him sane is Gojo's low, purring voice, all deep like dark chocolate.

"Just wanna make your first time extra special 'n have you cum on this dick." He speaks right against Geto's ear, even gives the stretched lobe a little nibble. Then suddenly, Geto's being forced up and flipped around like a rag doll. "C'mere," Gojo drags him across his lap so he's straddling his naked thighs— when did he get undressed? "Heard riding is easier on virgins."

"I'm not a virgin," Geto snaps, because it's the first thing that pops into his head, and every teasing word out of Gojo's mouth feels accusatory.

Gojo quirks an eyebrow up. "Oh? You let someone else fuck you up the ass before? Careful Suguboo, I might get jealous."

"No, I— Shut up. Y'know what I meant," Geto says, trying to ignore the way his voice cracks. His cheeks are crimson now, completely at a loss for what to do next or where to put his hands. Or where to look. It certainly doesn't help that he can feel Gojo's own erection beneath him.

It's cute, how Geto's eyes dart off to the side, eyebrows all scrunched up with... embarrassment? Overwhelm? Whatever it is, it makes Gojo wanna tease him.

Geto makes a surprised sound when he grips his wrists and guides his hands to rest on his chest, before greedily kneading at his thighs. His hands absentmindedly massage the trembling muscles while snaking up to squeeze his ass just a little.

"You ready? Got you all nice 'n prepped for the real thing," he says lowly, wanting to give no indication of his impatience if he can help it. This isn't about him, after all. Geto sucks in a breath and quickly nods, and that's all Gojo needs.

He reaches a long arm down and snatches the forgotten bottle of lube from the floor and squirts a good amount on his dick, wasting absolutely no time to smush the head up against Geto's hole. It makes the raven-haired man yelp a little and lean his weight on his hands to jump away from the sensation, effectively crushing Gojo's chest.

"C-careful!"

"Hey, alright. Don't run from it, yeah? I'll be slower, m'sorry," Gojo wheezes, pouting his lips in a little apology. He grabs one of Geto's hips in one hand and gently guides him back down to get him used to the slick, blunt end of his cock. Just rubbing between his cheeks and hole, getting the lube fucking everywhere.

The sound of slick squelching is even louder now. The way the cockhead pushes against Geto's hole just enough to stretch it before pulling away is heavenly, and he finds himself grinding his hips back to feel even more. He doesn't even realize Gojo is panting along with him, eyes all glassy, until he squeezes him and curses.

"Fuck— can I? Real quick, it won't hurt. I promise," he begs, pretty lips falling into an O shape when his tip catches on Geto's hole again. It's as if the resistance in his body gives way when he dares to glance down at Gojo, greeted by glassy, crystalline eyes that beg for him. Amazingly, Geto doesn't bust right then and there, and he quickly nods his head only to choke when the first inch of dick is slipped inside.

To be fair, Gojo was right. It doesn't hurt too bad thanks to all the prepping, but it's mind numbing. So much so, Geto's thighs give out and he falls even farther onto the cock already spearing him. The two let out long, almost embarrassingly loud moans in tandem. Like their brains both shut down from the sudden intrusion.

Even though he's a bit more coherent, Gojo still can't stop the way his hips buck up on instinct, chasing more of Geto's addicting heat. It strikes something deep inside him, makes his vision white around the edges as he gasps for air.

"A-ahhh hah, god! W-wait wait wait!"

The coil in Geto's tummy snaps and his muscles contract as Gojo's cock unintentionally forces an orgasm out of him. It happens so suddenly, it's like his body goes into autopilot, unable to do anything but cry out and sink his nails into Gojo's chest to try and ground himself. The shockwaves roll through him like a tsunami, making him tremble and hiccup, unable to do anything but ride it out. He doesn't realize how much he actually came until he blinks his eyes open to find streaks of creamy white all over his friend's abdomen and chest, some even landing on his lips, mortifyingly enough.

Gojo looks positively wicked, staring up at Geto with blown, lusty eyes that almost overshadow the pride plastered all over his stupid face. "Already? Fuck— were you really that pent up?" His tone is teasing, maybe to distract from the dull pain of sensitivity that shoots through Geto. Maybe he's just a dick. Whatever the case may be, he gently helps him ride it out, offering slow, shallow thrusts and greedy hands exploring wherever they can reach.

"Oh, god. S-shut the fuck— nngh! Cocky fucking bastard..." Geto hisses, though his voice pitches up near the end. He feels his eyes roll back a little when Gojo pushes in a little deeper.

"M'allowed to be cocky, ain't I?" he asks, voice like a damn vixen as his tongue darts out to lick at the cum that lingered on his lip. "Just came all over me and you're still hard? You have no idea what you're doin' to me." As if the twitching cock in Geto's ass wasn't proof enough of how Gojo was feeling, he just likes to hear himself talk.

He grips at Geto harder and makes him grind down against his hips, laughing when he lets out a yelp from overstimulation before he relents. Even tucks his hands neatly behind his head and gives Geto a look, as if to say 'go on'.

Geto swallows, lets his heart slow to a gentle thumping in his chest and wills the heat in his cheeks to cool down. Looking down at Gojo for long is still impossible it seems, so he squeezes his eyes shut and hesitantly— very hesitantly— rocks his hips back. The pressure is immense, almost overwhelming. The feeling of Gojo's cock stretching his hole past anything he's ever felt makes him hiss.

The sensitivity of cumming still thrums through his skin but, little by little, it fades and morphs into something euphoric. The stinging stretch gives way to pleasure faster than he'd thought, and soon he's adding more force to his movements. And while it's clear the only thing Suguru Geto has ever ridden in his life is a bike, Gojo can't help but find his sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts charming. He probably should help him, at least guide him by the waist, but the way his berry-pink face is screwed in concentration is downright adorable. It doesn't even matter that his grinding does little for Gojo's own pleasure.

"That's it, that's it Sugu. Take your time."

Even though the words burn through Geto's ears, he doesn't miss the blatant crack in Gojo's voice. How his tone is breathier, even strained, as if he's fighting himself to maintain composure. Now Geto understands the pride Gojo was feeling. It swirls around in his chest, gives him a boost of confidence to move with more precision. Suguru Geto has cracked the almighty god that is The Strongest.

It takes time, but eventually Geto is able to set a steady pace, rocking himself back and forward until the pain of the stretch is gone completely and gives way to pleasure. It's still sloppy, but every other glorious thrust has Gojo's cock gliding near his prostate, not quite there.

"Hmm—! Mmm, fuck," he huffs. He looks like he's about to collapse already, all dazy-eyed and shiny with sweat. The previous orgasm took a surprising amount of energy out of him, but Geto is stubborn. It's like he's forcing his body to keep going, to keep humping his best friend like a dog because it's all he can muster. There's no way he'll be able to make himself cum like this, not after the magic Gojo pulled.

"Here, here," Gojo huffs, his hands scrambling to grab Geto's hips, his thighs. "Lemme help, baby." He tucks his hands under his bottom and lifts him, coaxes him to lay forward, and Geto goes easily. Makes himself right at home in the cozy space between Gojo's neck and shoulder.

This position punches a sob from Geto. It's so much deeper. Deep in his fucking guts, he's almost sure he feels it in the back of his throat.

"O-oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!" His voice is utterly wrecked now. While Geto is always soft spoken with Gojo, this is completely different. It's guttural, raw almost, his tone pitched in the prettiest whine. It makes Gojo clench his teeth, his cock throbbing with every punishing thrust he gives. There's no way he can last like this, not with the way Geto's hole pulses around his dick like it can't keep up. It's honestly a surprise he's lasted this long.

Gojo arches, head digging into his pillow and making a mess of snowy white hair, and lets out a low moan right in Geto's ear.

"Haah... B-better like this, huh? Yeah, I know it. Fuck! Fuckin' know it, baby," he pants, thrusts quickening until the bed frame slams against the wall; it's definitely annoying his neighbors. Fuck 'em anyway, they've never experienced this. Never fucked a hole this sweet and addicting. His teeth are clenched so hard his jaw aches, absolutely nothing on his mind except to keep rutting into the tight, squishy warmth wrapped around his dick.

"Fuck, fuck! Not gonna last."

Geto is too fucked out to even hear him, can only cling to Gojo and whine with drool dripping down his chin. His balls tighten, cum begging to release, and the contraction makes him tighten around Gojo's hardness. It presses the cockhead right against his sweet spot and he sinks his nails into his shoulders. A coil deep in his stomach gives and then snaps, forcing him to gasp, eyes wide and blank as he paints his and Gojo's chest with cum again.

The second orgasm is near torturous, it pushes its way through his nervous system like an electrical wire, making him twitch and moan.

"O-oh fuck, fuck! Cumming! Fuck, cum— mm!" The words are forced out of him before his jaw tightens and he can only whine and growl as he mindlessly humps Gojo's cock to ride it out.

It's all enough. It's all so good. The way Geto cries, the way his ass pulses around his cock like a cunt, just everything. Gojo swears it makes him go blind when he finally cums. His grip on Geto's ass tightens just as his balls draw up as he cums, filling the sweet hole like he's trying to claim it. A thrum of jujutsu fills the air before the lights in his dorm shatter, scattering glass across the floor and bed.

Neither man is conscious enough to care or even notice— though Gojo's infinity switches on out of reflex, shielding them both from the shards— as they work each other through their own orgasms. It's euphoric. Almost magically romantic, but neither would ever admit to that.

Slowly, their bodies relax into one another. Geto still trembles above Gojo, but that's to be expected. The latter on the other hand works on catching his breath, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the sweat dripping down his face, neck, balls. He reaches up and cards a hand through Geto's messy hair, pulling spit-covered strands from his red face. A pleasant chuckle leaves his lips when he glances down at his friend.

"You with me?" he asks, all but coos at Geto, like he was the most precious thing. He musters a nod and his eyelids blink heavily.

"Intense, huh? The first time always is," Gojo says, making sure to keep his voice soft. He shuffles a little and gently lifts Geto so his softening cock slips out. He makes a sound of discomfort that Gojo shushes before he's nuzzling back into his neck.

He pulls the plush blanket over the two of them and makes sure they're both tucked in tight. It's silent for a few minutes as he lets Geto come back to reality and really bask in his newfound experience. He's almost nervous Geto is overthinking or even regretting this before he mumbles something into his neck.

"Hm?"

Geto moves a little and clears his throat. "Said thank you," he says, voice all hoarse and dreamy. Gojo smiles and plants a kiss on his head. Granted all that took place, the kiss wasn't surprising, but it still makes Geto's stomach flutter.

"Of course Suguboo!" Gojo says, his cheery tone mixing with the exhaustion overtaking him. "And I so wouldn't mind doing this again, you know?"

Geto snorts and pokes him in the rib.

"Perv." His voice is sarcastic, but a small part of himself cringes because the thought of doing this again with Gojo fills him with heart pounding excitement. He shouldn't be this ready to possibly become fuck buddies with his best friend— maybe more— and that realization shocks him. Fuck, they really need to talk about this, but for now, Geto hums and snuggles closer to Gojo, basking in his body heat, and lets the soothing feeling of him playing with his hair lull him to sleep.

[moonshynecybin]

as one of the foremost motogp scholars of our time do you happen to know what the beef is with maverick and fabio bc they were teammates right? but everyone says they hate each other now idk

ik this is not a marc question and i apologize for asking something i could ostensibly do research in myself but i did try and i suck at research and you have crazy good insight into the interpersonal dynamics of these guys ajajsjksksksksksksk

anyway sorry!! love your blog!!!! if you dont know or dont have time you can just ignore me!! <3

HELP okay i’ll try my best… so uh. idk if they have BEEF per se but i would imagine that some of the animosity would stem from the state of yamaha in 2021 and maverick’s uh. handling of that entire snafu. and yamaha being one of fabio quartararo’s beautiful wives (the other is tony arbolino the OTHER other is being nips out in work situations). anyways under the cut it’s lawg

SO. source HERE it does a good job laying this all out, but mav moved from suzuki to yamaha to start the 2017 season and immediately had a real substantial string of successes. he topped testing (a more novel occurrence THEN than NOW…) and won the first two races of the season, with many of the top contenders in the class having comparatively more difficult starts to the year (marc, dani, jorge, AND dovi all DNFed in argentina in the wet lmao). unfortunately, in true maverick fashion, it wouldn’t last and his results would be a lot more spotty as the season continued, with marc and dovi emerging as the true title contenders after the break and him finishing p3 overall (still ahead of valentino rossi…)

from there, our typically maverick pattern emerges, and maverick’s results kinda plummet more and more as the years pass by, with a few bright spots in tracks he likes. cracks are already showing in 2018, especially as vale ages and marc continues to be dominant while ducati improve. but like. maverick is a HUGE confidence guy!!!!and lin jarvis is in the press at austria 2018 like my rider’s qualified like total dog dookie!!! and maverick (most sensitive man on earth) is like okay. FUCK YOU… so things are already sliding nasty in 2018, but then he wins at assen in 2019 and re-signs w yamaha (even though ducati apparently wanted him. which is crazy to me but i digress.) it SHOULD BE NOTED that maverick himself was also publicly baffled by the decision from ducati to re-sign him, which EYE think says a lot abt his relationship with the team and confidence in his place there, and then they bring in all theses young hotties named fabio and franky and i imagine it’s like uh oh. i gotta PERFORM…

then 2020: shit hits the fan, marc breaks his arm, covid is going full blast, and no one knows what the fuck is going on. yamaha is very shaky through it all - fabio isn’t happy, maverick isn’t happy, everything is breaking or going wrong and there’s no pace on the bike and despite winning a GP maverick calls it the “worst season of his career!!!!” and also fabio is there with three wins looking. VERY good. writing perhaps on the wallll about the new guys and 21 yr old fabio is like. idk i can see why fabio’s friendly ass had a hard time vibing with all that. it doesn’t strike me as a natural vibe match.

and like. okay so famously the dramatic conclusion comes of COURSE in 2021 where mav got a new crew chief (he really liked his old one…) and then finished p19 in germany among serious grip woes that he claimed the team didnt have an answer for, all while fabio is charging to mount an actual title challenge, which i imagine didnt help things. like the pure comparison of it. exit rumors build (he podiums the next gp on the same setup he placed p19 in apparently, and like. doesn’t celebrate w the team at ALL in parc ferme like the vibes are OFFFF !!!), maverick is publicly critical of the team and unhappy with his situation, and then uh. he um. he gets fired AHEAD of assen 2021 and yamaha state he’ll leave after that season, a full year before his contract expires. boo tomato tomato from both parties…

MAVERICK (DIVAAAAAA comma 26 years old) responds by going full old school broadway dame and blowing up his engine on purpose during the 2021 Styrian GP in austria, sabotaging his own race. yamaha catch him handily, do NOT appreciate this, and straight up suspend him. maverick apologizes and says he messed up baby it was a joke please forgive him please. yamaha says you’re a SKANK… put in cal crutchlow good vibes angel from the heavens on that bike, who is later replaced with franco morbidelli full time. maverick signs with aprilia and rides with them for the rest of the season. maverick later lists fabio’s front row qualification performance as one of the reasons his emotions got the better of him in austria. fabio goes on to win the title. et voila. like TLDR i imagine the leftover taste in both fabio and maverick’s mouths concerning the whole ordeal is enough to put them off each other at least mildly for good.

[tazzertopia]

phantom troupe negative traits/habits hcs

*i’m aware that being thieves and murderers are already pretty negative traits but this is more related to their personality 😊😊😊

-

chrollo

-unintentionally can sound super sarcastic and condescending

-like if he’s explaining something the cadence of his voice might sound like he’s mocking you, when in reality he just sounds like that

-if you’re in a pissy mood and he’ll ask what’s wrong it kinda sounds sarcastic ?????

-he’ll see you crying and be like:

“are you okay? what’s up?”

and you’ll kinda just be like 🤨🤨🤨 i’m literally crying ???????? what do you MEAN “what’s up?”

-he’ll apologise for sounding sarcastic but he was genuinely asking

-the troupe knows that’s just how he sounds but anyone who doesn’t know him that well just thinks he’s being a prick

shalnark

-literally has zero social awareness

-considering he sees other people as toys, he doesn’t give a single fuck about randos in public

-he’s the type to have a loud conversation on speakerphone on a busy, crowded train filled to the brim with tired people who just got off their 9-5 and want to go home 💔

“hello? yeah, of course i can talk! so today i was-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

“��..anyways so-“

-is always confused as to why people are glaring at him but like i said, he really couldn’t give one

-he also probably sees someone who’s about to doze off or looks visibly irritated and will make it his mission to piss them off as much as possible and strike up a conversation with them

phinks

-extremely sore loser

-if you’re playing a game with him (like mario kart) and he’s about to lose, he will walk away right then and there and quit

-will claim the game is rigged and that’s why he was about to lose (if he wins, he will rub it in and tell you to just improve at the game)

-the troupe audibly groans whenever he asks to join in when they play video games

-one time he unplugged the tv when he lost a game against feitan and shalnark (if he doesn’t win, NOBODY gets to win)

-will claim the other person cheated if he loses

“COME ON!! SHALNARK PROBABLY HACKED THE GAME OR SOMETHING, MAKING ME LOSE!”

“…have you ever considered that maybe you just suck at the game?”

*throws remote at tv*

-just let him win if you want to have a easy breezy life

uvogin

-absolutely zero volume control

-he’s loud in public, but he’s completely unaware how loud he’s being

-this also makes him the worst person to tell secrets to

*pspspspswhisperwhisperwhisper*

“YOU THINK HIS HAIRLINE LOOKS LIKE THE MCDONALDS SYMBOL?”

everyone is staring. the man with the weird hairline you tried to whisper to uvo about is staring. you are extremely embarrassed. you want the ground to swallow you whole.

-to add insult to injury, he also points.

-because of this, it’s super easy to tell when he’s talking about you because he will yell AND point

-he doesn’t gaf who hears

shizuku

-the most brutally honest person you’ll ever meet

-doesn’t sugarcoat anything

-it’s not like she wants to hurt your feelings, but she just doesn’t see the point in beating around the bush or lying

-if she thinks you look fat in something, she’ll tell you. if she thinks you don’t suit a certain colour, she’ll tell you. if she thinks your cooking tastes like actual dookie left out to cook in the desert sun, she will not hesitate to tell you.

-she also will not apologise if she hurts your feelings

-“why do i need to apologise for being honest?”

-she is winning the idgaf war 100%

-will probably forget what she said as well, which makes it worse

feitan

-rather than ask to borrow something of yours like a normal person, he will steal it and then proceed to gaslight you when you confront him about it

-makes sense for him due to his ‘thieves take what they want’ mentality

-will have you convinced that your memory is patchy

“feitan where the fuck are are my scissors?”

“beats me.”

“i know you took them.”

“did not.”

“they were on the counter like five minutes ago and you’re the only one in here”

“no they weren’t.”

-this will carry on until you admit you were wrong for accusing him, or you just drop it

-occasionally he will start drama with the other troupe members by stealing their shit (usually phinks) and making it seem like someone else did it

nobunaga

-quite possibly the most indecisive man you’ll ever meet

-you’d much rather prefer to get sentenced to eternal torture at guantanamo bay than have to ask nobunaga what restaurant he wants to go to later tonight

-“my mind will be made up by tonight, i swear!”

-it wasn’t.

-he’s one of those annoying indecisive people who will insist that you choose, but will get mad if you don’t choose the option he secretly sorta preferred

“i can’t decide between place a or b, you choose!”

“place b”

“really? place a looks much more classy”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK PLACE A?!”

-you’re convinced he’s only acting like this to piss you off, but he’s just like that

-in the end, you have to force him to flip a coin or else he wouldn’t get anywhere decision-wise

pakunoda

-she often gets lost in thought and zones out, which results in her unintentionally staring at people for a little too long

-because of her stern resting face (or rbf), it usually comes across as her glaring at you, which feels a lil uneasy, especially if you’re not close with her

-she will apologise profusely when she comes to, but before she does she will just be looking at you like

👁️_👁️

-as well as this, she will sometimes try and touch you to purposefully see your memories if she’s a bit suspicious of you for whatever reason

-if she thinks you’re lying about something for example, she will intrude your thoughts

-she’s not a particularly touchy-feely person so it’s quite amusing to see her try and touch you for seemingly no reason out of the blue

-a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do 🤷‍♀️

machi

-despite being one of the more upfront and mature members of the troupe, she’s also the worst one for holding grudges

-like she will hold a grudge for literal ages

-there are many she’s had for so long that she can’t even remember why she was mad in the first place

-at this point it’s more about keeping a streak than actually being mad

-best case scenario is that she forgets about it altogether or else best believe she will NOT be forgiving you. ever.

-she’s still pissed at the old guy who stepped on her toes by accident two years ago. and the waiter who tripped and dropped the tray on her eight months ago. or the questionable comment hisoka made last week.

-talks about getting vengeance on those she holds grudges against but can’t even remember who they are or what they did

“i swear i will find them, wherever they are, so they will get what’s coming to them.”

“that’s nice and all, but WHO are they and what did they do?”

“….. it’ll come to me soon hold on..”

-feels incomplete without holding a grudge against someone

franklin

-his big ass does NOT look where he’s walking and will bump into anything and anyone

-don’t expect him to apologise tho

-“apologise? maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

-don’t even try to fight him on this

-doesn’t see it as his duty to move out the way, but the duty of those around him

-the absolute NERVE

-the only reason why no one confronts him about it is because he’s tall and big as hell

-don’t die for getting bumped into

bonolenov

-one thing about him is that when he’s mad, he’ll give people the SILENT treatment

-heavy on silent

-could go for centuries if he wanted to

-and trust he’s a pro at keeping it up

-he doesn’t gaf if you’re in danger, he’ll keep on giving you the cold shoulder

-he won’t stop because he feels bad, but because he just can’t be bothered to keep ignoring you

-he will randomly just start talking to you again one day and will act confused if you question why he’s taking to you again after so long

-he won’t apologise for it tho 💯

kortopi

-his minuscule ass is always stepping on everyone’s trotters

-honestly sometimes he does it out of spite and will give look at you like 👁️ if you confront him

-there’s not much to say about him except he will sometimes accidentally sometimes not step on your feet

i fear i’m missing more members but irdgaf rn so enjoy !!!!! also these are fun to write to pls pls pls give me suggestions xoxoxo

[raguonmynieceandnephew]

EPIC THE MUSICAL ACT ONE SONGS RANKED BY ME

The first act is out and recency bias towards saga 5 has passed. let's go lesbians

20 - POLYPHEMUS

I would like to express that just because she is last she isn't bad, ok? The worst Epic song is better than your fave's entire discography, let's not get it twisted. That being said, Polyphemus is by far the weakest for me. It's just too slow, and like, of course it is, it's the build up for the plot defining moment of the show. It has to be slow to contrast with the explosion that will come right after. But it's soooo much and so not the vibe for me. Still love her tho

19 - LUCK RUNS OUT

Not gonna lie, this song is only this low because they changed the "We could be caught of guard" verse. It was SOOOOOOO much better than the melodic version, like, that was a giga downgrade it really upset me and my homegirls ngl

18 - WARRIOR OF THE MIND

Again, a queen, a trendsetter, a trailblazer, we love athena, but her songs in the beginning of the musical are kinda not my thing. Warrior of the mind sounds so weird to me in its saga, i struggle making it fit in my head.

17 - STORM

Wait, wait hear me out, hear me out! Don't shoot! It lacks flavor. It lacks a spice, it lacks something it. I really wasn't feeling it much in the tiktok teaser days of this one, and while the full release is good (again, there is no such thing as a bad epic song) storm left me wanting more, not in a too good of a way. It felt like there was something that needed to be there, a je ne sais quoi, idk

16 - SURVIVE

I think i might get doxxed for this list, but it is my truth. TBH we reached a point in which i have no qualms with the songs. Survive is definitely not bad but like, it gets outshone by literally everyone else in the list so it goes here.

15 - THERE ARE OTHER WAYS

Ooooooh boy. I hate that she is so low. I do, I really do. The second verse just doesn't do it for me as much as the first, and it sucks because the intro and the duet are a fucking masterclass.

14 - PUPPETEER

The numbers are treatcherous because, yes 14 is in the lower spectrum but like, we are already in No Skip territory. I didn't think I would like Puppeteer but the intro with Ody and Eurylochus is simply perfection. The feels, the almost love confession that was cut off, the wordplay is just INSANE, love her

13 - THE UNDERWORLD

What do I need to say about Underworld that wasn't already said in every corner of this website? Putting your IRL mom to play Anticlea is VILE, 10/10 fuck you jorge

12 - KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE

She was gagging me since tiktok. Perfection. Bonus points for being Penelope and Telemachus first appearances in the show (SHOW ME THE TWINK, JORGE). Also, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODYSSEUS OF ITHACAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

11 - MY GOODBYE

I talked shit about athena's sons in warrior of the mind and I was about to put this in 16th place wtf, it didn't feel right so i did a re-listen and holy shit this song is phenomenal, omg THE JUST A MAN LINE? CINEMA

10 - OPEN ARMS

Steven Dookie, the man that you are. This song is so fucking good, holy shit. It's cute, and fun, It's everything. It encapsulates why the first quarter of a musical is always my favorite, because of all the setups, the motifs, the weapons it creates to shred our hearts

09 - REMEMBER THEM

She is perfection, she is serving pauleira, she is giving me everything I want. By far the best outro in the show, argue with your mothers.

08 - FULL SPEED AHEAD

The harmonies, the character intros, the simplicity, the naïveté, the HARMONIES, YES, AGAIN THE HARMONIES. Troy saga best saga, and if you disagree you can eat my ass

07 - DONE FOR

This song is what truly hooked into epic so Just a Man could reel me in. The drama, the irony, the implicit horniness, the fact that i found out they were dating IRL around the time this was announced, truly divine (ha)

06 - NO LONGER YOU

Wig? Snatched. This was my favorite song for a while, I even auditioned for it lmao. Deffo my favorite one to sing, still. Mason DEVOURED this track, and the prophecy? Odysseus's scream? Setting up Monster, AKA one of the best things in this show? Gagged me, your honor.

05 - THE HORSE AND THE INFANT

We are reaching greatness here you guys. The duet with Zeus gives me chills every time. I just know this + Just a Man as INTROS (REALLY LIKE, THIS IS THE INTRO) are gonna make pussies throb and ppl cry in the theater

04 - WOULDN'T YOU LIKE

Hermes is my favorite character in the show, and this (and Dangerous) are my most anticipated songs EVER. The tiktok snippets really did it for me.

03 - MONSTER

I mean, come on. Do I even have to say anything? When he quoted Poseidon. The venting about all he lost, THE CONFIRMATION THAT HE DID, IN FACT, KILLED THE BABY. HE BECOMING THE MAN TIRESIAS SAW IN HIS PROPHECY. I MEAN, COME ON

02 - RUTHLESSNESS

Chills. Literal chills. When this song dropped I was INSUFFERABLE. Ask anyone close to me. She was on repeat for WEEKS. Steven Rodriguez's voice is so fucking insane, so fucking SEXY (I ain't afraid to say it bitch, that man can get it). But like, Poseidon as a character, Odysseus being an idiot, "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" like HOLY SHIT. And now, all i can think about is how Get in The Water will sound in his voice. Just thinking about it gives me chills. I just know he is going to devour it.

01 - JUST A MAN

Remarkable, showstopping, absolutely the best song ever made. The lyricism, the production, the poetry, vocal performance, I really don't have much to say because it's not needed. All of my favorite moments in this soundtrack, unreleased songs included, are moments in which this song is referenced.

The "Monster" chants in The Underworld and in Monster, "after all you're just a man" in My Goodbye, the entire song of "Monster" is he becoming the Monster he is asking about in this song, like, DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SONG? My life's dream is to go to broadway once to see this fucking song live, and i know it will be life changing. Just a Man is the most beautiful thing ever.

[asleepygeorgian]

WTTT as stuff I hear/seen at school pt. 3

Washington: Listen...I'm not gay....I'm just...elegantly fruity

Oregon:....

Oregon: So gay?

Washington: Basically

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

West Virginia: THERES A HUGE, TALL BLACK MAN CHASING MEEEEEE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Georgia: Alright lil bro, quit talking to me

Alabama: BRo-ll tideee

Georgia: You think you're so funny

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hawaii: Lowkey nah but lowkey tho.. *does some gestures*

Florida: FOR REALLLL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ohio: Say the hard r rn

Minnesota: *says the n-word*

Ohio: your white...

Minnesota: And?

Michigan: Respect

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Texas: Number 6 is crazyyyy

Georgia: stfu

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maryland: Pookie Wookie Dookie

Virginia: Yes Kitten?

Pennsylvania: Oh my fuckin' god...GO GET ON DISCORD

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Illinois walking up happily to Wisconsin*

Illinois: Kys ^v^

*everyone bursting out with laughter*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vemont: Gov said we're having a pickle party if we pass this little quiz thing

Also Vermont: Ima go tickle everyone's pickle at this party

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Wyoming casually eating his pickle*

*Florida and Louisiana literally sucking on the pickle in front of him*

Wyoming: YALL NASTY-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alaska: Okay so this might seem crazy what I'm bout to say....

CDC: What?

Alaska: I can't fit in that desk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Jersey:...why those fifth graders were kinda bad?

New York: Nah- you nastyyy

Maine: Nah it's true but....what about fourth graders

New York: Nah Nah Nah, ya'll tweaking now

Mass: Just think....Kindergartners

New York: WHAT THE HELL???????????????

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DC: Okay think, what does light do for you to see yourself in the mirror?

Mississippi: Absorb :D

DC: No-

Mississippi: Wait no.....diffract!

DC: No...'Sippi...no...

Mississippi: :[

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Missouri: Ima milk you

Kansas: Bet go ahead

Oklahoma: Get away from meeeee

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

California: WELL I DONT MIND IF THE WORLD SPINS FASTER

Utah: THE MUSICS LOUDER- (Colorado: LOUDDD)

Montana: THE WAVES GET STRONGER (Wyoming: OHHHHHH)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(No I'm not okay- save me from this place)

[schmidtho]

D, E, I...[evades a federal sniper]...K, O.

damn the snipers are becoming more of a problem every day.

anyway u didn’t specify dookie or prettyboy and even tho u probably just meant for dookie i’m gonna answer for both 😌

D - Dominance: Are they into those types of power dynamics? Or do they like to stick to whose topping and bottoming? If they are into it why? If they aren't why not?

dookie: it’s not necessarily something he’s gonna seek out, dynamic wise because he’s much more into going with the flow and going for what strikes in the mood. as for topping/bottoming, generally he prefers to bottom though that’s honestly more for convenience sake, he tends to get caught up in it and doesn’t want to pause to put his strap on especially if whoever he’s fucking has a homegrown dick of their own 🙄

prettyboy: john is very much into that shit. he’s a brat through and through, loves pushing boundaries and seeing just how much he can get away with before the find out part of fucking around comes for him. and boy’s a solid vers, no real preference either way. for him it’s basically irrelevant. what he like is working someone up and then having them take that frustration out on him 😇

E - Erotica: Do they read or watch it? Does it get them in the mood? Do they create it themselves?

dookie: definitely not creating any, but he’s also not a big consumer of it either - reading or watching. he’s got nothing against it but it’s just not his thing. he’s absolutely understands the appeal but he honestly finds it more distracting than anything.

prettyboy: he’s probably made a home movie or two in his day, but nothing that he’s posting anywhere or spreading around since if it got back to him it’d be a huge risk to his career in the military. he definitely consumes it though. not much for reading erotica but mans absolutely enjoys a good porno lmao

I - Intensity: Do they like intense scenes? Or are they more a slow and take their time kind of person?

dookie: again with him it’s all about like. the mood that’s been set and also who he’s doing it with. he doesn’t get the chance/feel the need for the slow take your time kinda situation very often, especially when a quick and dirty fuck will get the job done and still be tons of fun

prettyboy: def way more into intense scenes, especially since, given his whole Thing, that’s usually what he gets. slow and steady often feels to him way too much like just teasing which can absolutely also be fun, but if he’s gonna be teased he’d rather be properly teased on purpose

K - Kiss and Tell: Do they talk about their sex life to others? If they do do they go into detail or are they more casual about it? Do they share photos with other people or are those private?

dookie: he’s not like a blab about it, but he won’t shy away from talking about it or answer questions if asked yk? he’s not really very detailed with it tho just bc describing shit like that is not at all his forte. like you might get something like “yeah she went down on me. excellent head game.” but he’s not gonna be painting a picture with his words or whatever

prettyboy: as long as he has permission from the subject of his stories to share, he will be telling you who what when where how many times what positions and would he recommend. he’s a slut and a gossip simple as.

O - Open: Do they enjoy having things in their mouth? If so what are their favorite oral fixations? (fingers, toys, giving oral, etc.)

dookie: definitely a big fan of fingers in his mouth, perhaps an embarrassing amount. but also yeah in general he does like having his mouth occupied in some way, especially if that way is giving head. and he will suck a strap so good you could feel it tbh

prettyboy: literally just call him oral fixation georg the way this man constantly has to have something in his mouth, not even necessarily in a sexual way he just always nibbling on pens or chewing gum and he’s got a cig in his mouth pretty much any chance he could get. and if it’s for horny reason? it literally don’t matter what it is, he wants it in his mouth on his tongue down his throat etc etc

[samuelroukin]

well ain't the minotaur in a maze? and doesn't ray's head game suck in a bad way? at least pre-dookie

oh def also post dookie lmao my man is not improving out of sheer stubbornness. but maze or not (not, labyrinth is not the same thing 🤓☝️although - well let's not. i could talk this stuff for a long time lol) those cocks stay throbbing!!

[sp4rkzzy]

I'm gonna bawl Everytime I go on tiktok I see moots of mine complaining and and hating hazbin hotel. Like I get that you don't like it.. but it's a popular ass show and you ain't think maybe your mutuals MIGHT get into a POPULAR fandom. It happens everytime man you can't like SHIT

" Vivzie's trash" or " The writing sucks "

Erm. Okay. If vivzie's problematic.. you don't think that everyone who's been watching since the pilot doesn't know that..? We literally know but. Let people enjoy a media for fucksake

Like oh no I watched their show!! This means they're going to go kill a family LIKE IT DOESN'T AFFECT THEIR ACTIONS THEYRE GONNA ACT THE SAME.

And just because you watch it, doesn't mean you support them. " But she makes [bad] jokes. " Yeah, and I don't like that, and I'm not going to agree with those, but I can't stop her from making those.

This isn't even just hazbin hotel btw. If you like even ANYTHING the amount of SHIT you will get is insane. Like, guys!! When you make a post saying "don't be a hater" THAT MEANS IN GENERAL!!! LITERALLY NO EXPECTATION!!

Like how you gonna make a video saying that but you still gonna hate on MFS WHO like gacha, or hazbin/helluva, or TADC, or MFS who have emojis in their name (specifically the ones for Tally Hall, Miracle Musical, And Lemon Demon)

GOD there's more.

" erm, isn't (media) (insert a bad thing). " I FUCKING get that GOKUSLEFTNUTSACK (joke)

You think I ain't hear about that 50 times before!!! I get that. I can't PICK what my brain decides to fixate on.

And yes. The show is bad, there's horrible writing, horrible jokes, but like. It's literally like every adult swim cartoon I've ever seen. And I don't see you canceling MFS who like South Park or Moral Oral, or Robot Chicken, or Even Rick n Morty even though there's a ton of sex jokes, gore, adult content (In some I know, Im not rlly fans of these)!!!

The series is about HELL and it's literally over all like 15+ & 18+. HELLUVA BOSS LITERALLY STATES IN THE TITLE/INTRO ITS 18+ HALF THE TIME. THIS IS PEEK ADULT SWIM BACK IN THE DAYS

LIKE "they curse too much" do you HEAR how much people actually curse irl? In literally two sentences I can hear 5 curses from some kid at school. Besides they're DEMONS. SINNERS. THEYRE IN HELL. THEY ARENT GOOD PEOPLE.

And then some are also pissed when ABUSIVE characters *are* ABUSIVE..

"It's a dookie representation" Abusers are literally different and act completely different.

You can dislike the series and shit, by all means I completely get that but GOD

Let people enjoy something damn. I hate how I got fixated on hazbin hotel, honestly. I knew the hate, I knew how bad overall vivziepop is known to be, but it still happened. And come on. It's a show, it's a event, people are gonna grow outta it in like. A month. Just let it happen, it'll disappear just like TADC, just like Welcome Home, just like Anything that gets popular.

[kittyslashers]

drawing hands sucks dookie so bad, man. i am allowed ONE decent hand per day. fuck my stupid baka life

[sillymeter]

i dont care about gorillaz anymore they make bad music now and bad art i just want them to free the sea. if they open the plastic beach vaults i will evolve as a person into something horrrible. that's a sillymeter guarantee. ive waited years for this i;ve scoured data ive tried to scrape lost media ive done . In my brain there is a plastic landfill i always come back to. eternal return.

i just want to listen to leviathan. is it too much to ask for a song that isnt 30 seconds of it muffled because its recorded 2 rooms away. Please. Please. please. you cant make good music anymore you suck shit dookie ass just give up the ghost man. open the coffin and give us the fish