#vampire gojo satoru

[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[saintfaux]

[m1sa22aman3]

When there isn’t 20 new fics for me to read after refreshing the tag (I just finished reading everything and have absolutely no patience)

[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.

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[rice5x]

please vampire gojo please one chance plsssplslsppsl on e chance

[chososcutie]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME .ᐟ

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

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

word count. 3k

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

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

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

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

shit.

how had it gotten to this point again?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

crash!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what should you do?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then, you feel it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he was.. pierced?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

smack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"why's that?" you say sleepily.

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

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

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

[madamechrissy]

Vampire! Gojo x F!reader

CW: MDNI, explicit sex, cunnilngus, blood drinking Gojo is YANDERE asf lol, kinda manipulative!?!? Enjoy!

Vampire! Gojo who has waited so long to taste you, and taste you everywhere. When you're finally in his arms, and arching your back so pretty, your breasts pressing against his chest, his blue eyes light up so bright it's impossible to stare into them.

Vampire! Gojo who is delicate at first, long fingers gripping your waist, plump lips kissing down the side of your throat, your moan urging him on, while his teeth nip at your delicate skin. You gasp in pleasure moaning out 'Satoru!'

Vampire! Gojo hears his name from your pretty lips and can't contain himself, he sinks his fangs deep into your throat, on that vein, and your bright red blood drips down your collarbone. He moans as you gasp in fright, smirking at you and licking his blood stained lips, grinning with those fangs. 'ya scared? don't be sweets.'

Vampire! Gojo who now kisses you, and you wince at the coppery taste of blood, but then you start to feel so good as your body is pulsing, humming, you feel heat pool in your core, he pulls back to stare at you with those insane baby blues, pupils shrunk to pinpoints, cupping your face with his huge hands.

Vampire! Gojo whispers 'feels good, doesn't it baby?' and you nod weakly, he notices the drops of blood down your breasts, exhaling and licking a trail, you feel more fucked up than any weed and wine combo you've ever done, you feel more fucked up than anything when he rips your pretty dress.

Vampire! Gojo loves that you wore white, it's as if he can picture you on your wedding day, he's waited for so, so many years for you after all, he'll have to have you, to keep you. You're so pathetic for him, when he bares your skin, turning you to start nipping your shoulders, you feel hot trickles of blood as he sucks on the other side of your neck now, you can barely stand but don't worry.

Vampire! Gojo will hold you up, and hold you up he does, as you're bare now, and he faces you towards a mirror. 'reflection...' he chuckles, cupping your chin, thumb on your fluttering pulse. 'oh baby that's all myths, just like me having to be invited in. but you'd invite me anyway, hmm?' you nod, leaning back against him, his fingers drifting around to your front, cupping your soaking wet cunt now.

Vampire! Gojo who feels how wet you are for him 'pretty little slut, hmm?' you should question this, but you simply arch your back in a daze, as he rubs your clit in circles, you hear the squelching wetness of your drippy cunt echoing in Satoru's room. How did you get here, you wonder, but only for a moment, when his long finger teases your entrance and he whispers 'lemme taste you everywhere, baby'

Vampire! Gojo has your legs wide, he's lifted you onto his bed, your hands grip the red velvet comforter, you're whimpering when he kisses up your thigh, he still has a little tail of blood on his chin, as he parts your puffy lips, watching your arousal drool out of your little hole. 'S-Satoru, I...' 'shh baby, lemme taste you, feel how much you want me, all over m'face'

Vampire! Gojo starts lapping at you with his insanely talented tongue, swiping up all the wetness there, your hips arch up for more and more, you grab his silky white locks, head falling back, eyes rolling in pleasure as he drinks your wetness. His surprisingly sharp nails press into your inner thighs, until there are red marks, little wounds, they sting as he presses in, chuckling at causing his pretty bride (well you will be) pain, while sucking your little clit in his hot mouth.

Vampire! Gojo has you cumming so quick it's stupid, your thighs are shaking on either side of his head, he's humming on your clit, two fingers sinking into your eager hole, pressing up on that little spot, intensifying your orgasm. You are gushing all over his face, whimpering when he finally leans up, grinning. 'this is where you're weak, huh baby?' he presses up again on your spot, you're dripping down his hands, tears pricking your eyes.

Vampire! Gojo has waited so long to fuck you, to shove all nine inches so fucking deep in your pussy, to smirk as you try to take it, he kisses down your neck, fucking you deeper, leaky tip slamming your cervix, your walls fluttering around his thick veiny cock. 't-too much, s'too much... T-Toru!' he moans at that, at feeling you convulse under him, spreading your thighs wider, your heels press into the muscles in his lower back as he fucks into you.

Vampire! Gojo who whispers 'you're mine, got it baby?' you don't answer, you gasp instead, because he's biting you, sucking your blood into his throat greedily. 'god no one tastes this good, so fuckin' yummy' 'ngh!' 'hah, can't even fucking talk, can you?' you're cumming while he's sucking your blood out of those two little teeth marks, your little nails pressing into his marble, perfect skin, feeling him stuff you so full, too full.

Vampire! Gojo pulls back, looking down at the mess you are, he licks his lips and grins, he's terrifyingly beautiful, he's terrifying, but you can't even be afraid, because you are his. 'aww you're crying?' 's'much I... can't... ah!' you're pressed now, folded in half under him, as he looks at what is his, 'oh baby gonna fill you s'good, you're all mine, say it baby' 'y-yours'

Vampire! Gojo who smiles as he cleans you up in the bath later, knowing he's marked you forever, and you have no choice but to be his, you were always supposed to be.

[alexiroflife]

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

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

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

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

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

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

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

"what's the matter, baby?"

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

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

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

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

he's dead before you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"come on, (y/n)."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“let me in.”

suguru geto: "you know better..."

"angel..."

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

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

not when he was alive and human, at least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you're not my fiancé."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i don't believe you."

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

"i said no, suguru."

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

you close your eyes and grind down on your teeth.

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

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

you do not answer, for you ponder it.

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

"shut up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

home?

you feel something crumble within you.

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

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

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

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

"see?"

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

"let's go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

instead, he presents you with another solution.

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

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

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

"would that be better for you, honey?"

choso kamo: "just a taste..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you gasp pleasantly and choso twitches, breath heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you taste delicious, my love."

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

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

you know you aren't hallucinating.

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

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

you watched your boyfriend die.

so how is it possible now...

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

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

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

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

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

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

except for his undead presence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

everything is painfully still until you hear heavy feet shuffle.

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

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

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

"hi toji," you shiver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ryomen sukuna: “I’m here to help…”

"get the fuck away from here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your jaw clenches.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"would you like to know something, woman?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

a strike to your heart. "shut up."

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

"no. stop."

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

"stop it. stop it now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[soobkuna]

⸸ 내게로 다시 와, ㅤ ❤︎ ⎯ @6atorugojos

ू 🩸 ⠀⠀𝔱​​​i𝑒​​ ​me​.⠀ ⠀ ﹏ ⠀✙

[kymsys]

TRICK OR TREAT b*tches 🎃🍬✨

[oryunart]

Gojo vampire and his six-eyed familiars. 🎃

@oryunart

[lilaccmilk]

the altar in your blood cw: vampire, blood sucking

your vampire boyfriend loves drinking from you. but even more than that, he loves feeling your pulse, so you'd often find his lips resting just at your pulse point. feeling your heartbeat, wishing his could beat in the same rhythm. with him it's never just drinking and leaving it at that, for him it's peppering kisses on your neck, the junction of your neck and shoulder, your sweet spot. it's always how he kisses you in reverence before sinking his fangs into your neck, it's how he drinks your blood like a drink of gods, how he drinks like a man condemned with you being his only mercy.

hunger didn't bring him to you, it was worship, he'd kill to hear your heartbeat in his chest. your blood flowed like life into his hungry mouth. it was decadently romantic how he craved you. and like a ritual, he kisses your wound, licks at it and kisses it once more just for good measure. you know he won't let go, and you don't want him to.

gojo satoru, sylus, RAFAYEL, megumi fushiguro, ken sato + your favs!

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

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

Vampire Lover!

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

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna, Choso, Nanami

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

SATORU

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

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

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

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

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

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

SUGURU

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

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

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

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

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

SUKUNA

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHOSO

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

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

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

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

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

NANAMI

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

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

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

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

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

[barbies1shots]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it hurt so good.

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

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

poor puppy..:(

@aizawasbarb

[rice5x]

pouty vampire

[vesnawinters]

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

A royal vampire and half-blooded priest🩸

Oh to be doing merch of your au text roleplay