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lavandulawrites · 3 months

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Devilish creatures

Yandere Gojo Satoru x female reader

Masterlist

Word count: 2576

Warnings: Implied stalking, Gojo being as unsettling as always

You were a complete normal woman if you ignored the way you could see them. Since you had been a little girl you had been able to see those hellish creatures. You told your parents, but they didn’t believe. No one did. It got to the point where your parents took you to see a psychiatrist, which told you that it was nothing more than childish fantasies. Fantasies for a young child was normal, but you knew very well that what you saw were real and not fantasies. The only person who did believe you were your mother’s mother. She had always been eccentric. She told you that she has been seeing those creatures since she was a child. That did make you feel relieved, but it didn’t help the whispers from those around you.

You moved to Tokyo as soon as you graduated high school. You started studying in a prestigious university. You didn’t speak to your family much, but that was probably for the best. Those creatures never disappeared. In fact it seemed that there were much more of them in Tokyo. Around the campus there were always a swarm of them. They didn’t harm you (most of them were in fact really small) but they made you feel a sense of dread. Almost like they were draining your energy. Maybe they were. One night when you were walking home from your shift the small but cozy café, you came across a huge monstrous creature. It had rows upon rows of teeth and two bulging eyes pointed in each direction. It’s tongue black and long. It didn’t notice you, so you ran as fast as you could. After that incident you were reluctant to walk home alone at night. You always took the early shifts, which resulted in having less time to study. You would chose your life over your grades at any day, so you didn’t feel too bad about it.

One cold January day you called your grandmother. It had been a long time since you last talked and you really missed her. You told her about the monster-incident and she advised you to go to some place called Jujutsu High. You really hoped it wasn’t a scam or worse a cult, but you really didn’t have a choice. When it came to the monsters, you would take any solution.

The school was in a traditional Japanese style with impressive gardens. It really was beautiful. You headed to the building where the kind lady on the phone told you to. Apparently someone there could help you with your little problem. Even though you had your suspicions, you had to give it a try. You didn’t know what you would do if you didn’t.

You stepped inside the building and took a seat in what may seem like a waiting area of some sort. After you sat in silence contemplating if it was a wise decision to come or not for what felt like hours (it had actually only been 15 minutes) a tall white haired man walked by. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you with a slight smile. His eyes were covered with a black cloth resembling a blindfold. You could feel his intense stare underneath his blindfold. “Are you waiting for someone?” he tilted his head.

You nodded, your voice failing you in the presence of the handsome man.

“Do you happen to be [Last Name] [Name]?” he bent slightly forward. You nodded “Yeah”.

“I am sorry to inform you, but the person you had an appointment with have some urgent matters to attend to” his smile gentle.

Your expression fell “Oh… I see. Thanks for telling me”. You was just about to get up and leave when he stopped you by clearing his throat.

“I can help you. I assume you have a problem you need help with since you are here?” his grinned. You looked at him with wide eyes “You can help me?”. You were so relived, finally these sights would stop.

His grin widened “Of course I can help you darling”. The pet name rolling of his tongue with ease causing you to blush slightly. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Follow me” he straightened his back. God he was tall. You followed after him unsure of what to expect. The corridors were dimly lit, giving of an eerie feeling. The tall man was walking with slow steps so you could keep up with his ridiculously long legs. He stopped in front of a room and ushered you inside. “You know, I am not really supposed to tell civilians this, but I will make an exception since you are so adorable” his grin similar to that of the Cheshire cat. It was slightly unsettling. You raised your brow slightly and took a seat in the chair he was gesturing to.

He slumped down on the chair opposite of you, stretching his legs out like a cat. “You are seeing things right? Seeing creatures that resemble those of hell” it wasn’t a question, but a statement. You nodded slowly.

He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees and popped his head in his hands. You could tell he was scanning your expression. “Awww… You poor thing. I am sure that must frighten you so very much” he cooed at you like one would with a scared animal. “Luckily you have me to protect you”.

You twisted in your seat. There was something of about him, but you couldn’t put your finger one what exactly. “Yeah… They are quite frightening.” you smiled sheepishly.

He leaned back in his seat toying with his the black cloth covering his eyes. “Those so called creatures are called “curses”. You are one of the few people with the ability to see them.”

You blinked. Curses? You swallowed. Surely this was a joke right…? Sweat stared to collect at your temples.

The man chuckled at your reaction. “Where are you seeing the curses?”

“My university, around my neighbourhood and nowadays I’m seeing them in my flat” your hands slightly shaking. He hummed “I see. I will accompany you home to get rid of the curses. If you don’t mind of course”. His lips were twisted in a slightly smile, which you were unable to read. “I don’t mind at all” you shook your head. You would do anything to get rid of those so called curses. Absolutely anything.

He slapped his thighs and stood up with a swift motion. “Good. Very good indeed!” his smile still present. He stopped before the door and turned his head over his shoulder “I forgot to introduce myself. I am Gojo Satoru”.

The drive to your flat had been in silence. You had felt Gojo’s gaze at you the whole ride. “Please excuse my mess” you sheepishly smiled as you dumped some dishes into the sink. Gojo laughed telling you that he didn’t mind. He glanced around your apartment before he turned to you.

“It will only take a moment” he flashed you a smile. You stepped back unsure of what to expect. He had explained you briefly what cursed techniques and the like were while you made your way up the many stairs to your flat. You understood it somewhat. With a gesture of his fingered the small curses that were sweeping up underneath your sofa and bookshelf disintegrated. Your jaw fell slack in shock. You didn’t know what you expected, but this was certainly not it.

Gojo chuckled amused. “Impressed? This was mere child’s play” he smiled cockily, clearly happy with your reaction. “Are they gone gone now?”. “They are completely gone now” he nodded.

“Thank you so much!” you bowed. He had told you earlier that it wouldn’t cost you anything. A special discount for a special girl as he said. He had however suggested going out for a coffee with him. Which you agreed to, much to his delight.

“Your flat is safe from curses, though I can’t exactly say the same for you neighbourhood” his voice laced with concern. You felt like you were deflating. You had nowhere to stay besides your flat.

He brought his fingers to his chin and was silent for a moment. “What if…” his voice absentminded. “What if you stay at my place for the time being? I remember you said you were tight on money and hotels are quite expensive nowadays. I have a spare bedroom and it’s not too far away from here, but far enough for it to be safe”. You thought for a moment. Was it okay for you to sleep at his place? He was a total stranger after all and besides you didn’t want to bother him, but he had been nothing but kind. As if noticing your hesitation, he spoke up “I can promise you it won’t be a bother” he smiled warmly. You thought for a second. You really didn’t have any other options. “Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it”.

His smile twisted into a grin. “The pleasure is all mine” his words smooth like honey.

His flat was huge and well decorated in a elegant way, not like quite what you had expected. Long windows going down to the floor overlooked the bustling streets of Tokyo.

He laughed softly at your awe. “Feel yourself at home”. He had replaced his blindfold with black rimmed glasses that he pulled down his nose to wink at you. His eyes were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. They were of an ice blue colour mixed with turquoise. He pushed his glasses back up and hummed at your reaction.

The hours flew by as you talked about all and nothing over takeaway sushi from a high end restaurant. He really was easy to talk to. His witty remarks making you laugh. He was quite flirty too, but not overbearingly so.

Soon it was well over midnight and your eyelids getting heavy. “Ooo someone’s sleepy” he laughed. You nodded “Yeah. I had to wake up early”. He stood up “I will make your room ready. One moment please”.

You tried to fight the sleepiness when something poking out underneath one of the coffee table book. You leaned forward to get a better look at the somewhat familiar flyer. You pulled it out carefully and brought it underneath the light of the lamp standing by the sofa. It was a flyer of your university. Weird… From your impression of Gojo you didn’t think he was studying. He did tell you that he worked as a teacher at Jujutsu High. An eerie feeling crept over you. It was probably just a coincidence, right? It had to be, there were no other explanations… You went over your conversations. He was really observant with you, but maybe he was one of the more observant types.

Then it struck you. You never did mention which university you were attending. You only gave him your address when he drove you both to your flat to ride it off the curses.

You quickly put the flyer back in place and straightened your back.

“Your room is ready” Gojo’s head was peaking out of the hallway. With shaky hands you turned around to face him. Your hands gripping the cushions of the sofa to ground your racing mind. You had to come up with an excuse and that quick. A notification followed by a curse broke the uncomfortable silence. You snapped your head towards Gojo. He was staring at his phone with furrowed brows.

“You should see yourself lucky that you are staying here” he walked over to you still starting his phone. “Multiple curses have gotten out of control attacking civilians. It’s not safe out now”. His icy eyes meeting yours. His glasses nowhere to be found. His expression changed to worry as he scanned your face. “What is it?” he tilted his head slightly.

You swallowed as you fidgeted with your fingers. You couldn’t go back to your flat now, it would be to dangerous and besides you couldn’t confirm that it was something up with Gojo. You had always had the habit of being untrusting with people. After all he had been nothing but kind and welcoming. “Nothing” you shook your head with a slight smile. “I am just tired”.

The bed was really fit for a king. It was the most comfortable sleep you had ever gotten. Your eyes creaked open as rays of sunlight bathed the room in a soft yellow glow. The smell of pancakes filling your nose.

Gojo was standing by the oven flipping pancakes while humming a tune that was playing on the speakers. I Only Have Eyes for You by The Flamingos. He turned around with a smile. His eyes shining bright with an unreadable expression. “Good morning [Name]. Did you sleep well?” his voice melodic and his smile dashing. He really was beautiful, but you couldn’t help but be cautious.

“I did. Thank you for letting me spend the night here”. With a smile he told it was nothing and he was glad he could help you out. He served the pancakes with a hum and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. His gaze tender.

He took a seat opposite of you and his expression changed. “I got a message from some of the other Jujutsu sorcerers” he lifted his fork and knife and cut into his pancake. “There were quite the casualties last night. They are still looking for those who went missing. They haven’t been able to locate all the bodies” his hand stilled and he looked at you, eyes unblinking.

“Do you understand the gravity of this situation? Do you understand why I suggested you to spend the night? One can never be too careful” his voice stern. You only nodded. You looked at your plate. Your appetite was lost. You were lucky for not being one of those poor people that were mauled by the curses. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want you to be aware of the dangers of this world” his voice sincere.” You nodded understandingly. He was a good man after all and you were in his debt.

As you eat your breakfast after encouragement from Satoru, he watched you with a smile. You were really naive to be stepping right into the lion’s den.

He had “met”you at a café. You were hanging out with your friends seemingly oblivious to how they ignored your presence in favour of planning some kind of party. He had felt sorry for you as you stirred your tea while trying to get the attention of your “friends”.

He had become quickly smitten by you. It truly was love at first sight. You were such a stunning woman after all. No one could compare to your beauty. He felt the intense need to protect you so he decided to watch over you as a gentleman should do.

He spent weeks watching you as you left for your job, as you studied in the library at your university and watching you through the eyes of the teddy bear you thought were a present from your friend. You were like a little lost lamb in a world full of flesh eating monsters. You needed to be protected and who could be better at that than Satoru?

Unbeknownst to you he was the most dangerous of all the devilish creatures.

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gojoidyll · 7 months

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Infinity Masterlist

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Part 1 | my broken maid

Part 2 | my childhood friend

Part 3 | my world

Part 4 | my life

Part 5 | my maid again

Part 6 | what doesn't belong to him

Part 7 | not my wife

Part 8 | start over again

Part 9 | what he deserves

Part 10 | what is yours, is mine

Part 11 | new life, new beginning, new death

Part 12 | another simple beginning

Part 13 | coming soon !!

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo #female reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru x reader

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aphroditelovesu · 3 months

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Yandere Satoru Gojo Headcanons (General)

"I will take care of you." — Satoru Gojo.

❝ ㊙ — lady l: lol, this turned out longer than I originally thought, but I love him so screw it! He has a complex personality, so it was more complicated trying to describe him as a yandere, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!! 🩵💜

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking (mild), death and murder.

❝㊙pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x gender neutral!reader.

You probably wouldn't even realize that he was obsessed with you, that the infamous sorcerer of the Gojo Clan, was dominated by you, because he doesn't want you to know unless he wants you to. For a while, he'll be content to just watch you from afar.

Satoru is completely aware that his thoughts, his feelings are distorted, but he doesn't care, not when he was already very involved in you. You had taken over his entire life and thoughts and he wasn't bothered by it, not anymore.

At first, Satoru hated this, hated you and these thoughts that crossed his mind about you. They were ridiculous, you were ridiculous and he was even more so for thinking of you that way. After all, what was so special about you? Yes, you were attractive but it wasn't just your beauty that attracted him, there was something more. Something he didn't know how to define.

But he stopped hating you and focused on you, on his thoughts about you. Maybe they were wrong, but Gojo quickly learned to deal with them. Push them to the back of his mind and focus on his goals. And that goal, the main one at least, was you.

Satoru isn't very good at expressing how he feels about you directly, so he preferred to show his affection in a more distant way, with some gifts and letters that could seem like threats, depending on how you read them.

He is complex and acts indifferent to many and you are not the exception. He is courteous to you, but always keeps his distance, making it impossible for you to find out about his darkest thoughts. He plays with you and has fun, but always being a little obnoxious. Maybe if you looked closer, you'd notice the clenched fists and slightly pursed lips. The anguish that surrounded him when you were around.

Satoru is extremely confident in his abilities and is sure that he can win you over if he so desires. And he wants you, but he doesn't want to admit that he needs you. He doesn't like to appear weak, because he's not weak, but you make him vulnerable and he hates that.

He is apathetic towards those who are weak and if you are a person considered weak in his eyes, this will make him stressed. Not only was he attracted to you, more than that, but to a weak person? How could something like this happen? But for you, and only you, Satoru will help you become stronger, for his benefit and yours.

Satoru is possessive and will not hesitate to destroy anyone who dares to get closer to him. You are his, maybe you don't know it yet, but you belong to him. He is aggressive and will attack without remorse, prioritizing the complete destruction of the one who angered him. There will be no remorse on his face once he is done but pure satisfaction.

Ever the cunning strategist, Satoru decided it was time to act. He began to approach you in subtle ways, taking opportunities to offer hidden advice or compliments. The letters and ambiguous gifts continued to arrive, but now you began to realize that there was more behind these gestures than you initially imagined.

Little by little, Satoru broke down his own barriers and began to show a kinder, more caring side. He offered his guidance in training and missions, always masking his intentions under the appearance of a concerned mentor. You, in turn, began to notice the duality in his personality: the cold, distant professor and the man who, somehow, seemed genuinely interested in you.

But he acted more playfully with you, loosening up in a way, disguising his feelings in any way he could.

Gojo spoils you deeply, he has a lot of money and wouldn't mind spending it on you. But he has rules and will be stingy if you disobey him and will probably punish you with deprivation.

He is cold and doesn't mind sacrificing those for what he believes in and he will sacrifice anyone for you. Satoru will have no qualms about killing anyone he believes to be a potential threat to his ideals. Blood-stained hands won't make any difference to him.

Satoru Gojo is complex and difficult to understand, but his obsession with you makes him even more complicated. His feelings are masked and will only be shown if he wants to and once he has you to himself, there is no way he will let you out.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #yandere headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #yandere satoru gojo headcanons #yandere gojo satoru x reader #headcanons

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grxndprix · 7 months

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𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 & 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘸 — 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯 (𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩), 𝘴/𝘢, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘥𝘬, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭

A fresh new start always felt like bull.

It was like fate itself holding her life on puppet strings. Moving her like a numb pawn in a chess game. Everything felt calculated for everything except her. She just had to wait for things to go her way every once in a while, before it fell apart again.

Right now, it was going fairly mundanely. Nothing interesting or even mildly negative had happened in a while, though nothing had either. She had already been living alone for quite some time. Moved out of her parents’ house as soon as possible and invested in a house of her own for the sole reason of hating apartments. Too rickety, and she would feel safer in a smaller, single house than with broken windows or whatever else.

[name] ran a ringed hand through her hair, huffing out a breath as she hauled her cross-body bag over her shoulder. The job down at the local cafe awaited straight ahead, and despite her fears, she wasn’t a child anymore, she could do this.

Morning pink and white skies, highlighted with gold clouds had her taking in the fresh air. In fact, it wasn’t until she picked her walking pace up again, stepping toward the cafe doors, that the slightest bit of dread began to pool in her stomach.

A sigh, and [name] reached for the handle as she made her way inside. Her eyes wandered, trailing along the gold embellishments among the otherwise green, brown, and orange-ish tints around her. She lumbered on her way to the back of the building, swiftly tugging her uniform on and starting to take orders from her position as cashier.

Customers piling in couldn’t deny the coziness, some of them staying for quite some time. [name] herself enjoyed every second spent on the job and could never imagine quitting. Or— At least… Those were her premonitions for now. It was a steady source of income while living alone, the atmosphere was nice, the people were nice, it wasn’t—

The doors opened just as the clock chimed at 3 o’clock.

Not even a divine mercy could save such a tragedy. In waltzed two figures, tall in stature and a bit intimidating with their builds. [name] gulped for a second, feeling the cozy air around her start to dissipate. Despite recognizing them as regulars, the girl was unsettled. They always came in and just… observed her every move. She averted her gaze for the sake of her own well-being, lips pursing and unpursing. The feeling of her lip gloss brought back some sense, and she snapped out of her stupor.

In the short time she’d looked at them, she noticed they looked pretty identical to the last time. Cold white hair, blue eyes that held the world in their irises, black uniform — He was the one whose gaze raked along her entire figure, always whispering obscene things to his friend. Of course, said friend had raven hair, long locks that swayed with each step. They were tied up into a bun, and his matching eyes always remained locked on her face, barely wavering. His irises held nothing but sorrow, the weight of the universe—

‘Don’t judge people by their looks,’ She reminded herself. It’s rude to do so, even in this case… Her eyes flicked back to the pair, and she physically had to hold herself back from flinching. Both of their gazes were locked right onto her, one sporting a small smirk, and the other smiling softly.

The man smirking ran a hand through his snowy white hair, whistling lowly and leaning over to whisper something in his presumed friend’s ear. The smiling man whispered something as well, raven locks swaying in the small breeze. She wouldn’t have cared about any of this had their stares not been piercing into her. Something felt off, something really felt off— What was once just invasive had turned predatory. At least before, it didn’t feel like this.

The first time the pair had come into the cafe, they took a seat and seemed to talk casually for a bit. They weren’t ordering anything, but just to be sure, [name] had made her way over and asked them if they wanted to try anything off the menu. She tried and failed to conceal her wince when their eyes snapped up to meet hers.

That was the first time she’d experienced true intimidation. Satan regarded the two of them with a shiver, and she felt her hand tremble at her side. As if they had gotten what they wanted, the pair smiled, but the notion didn’t reach their eyes.

Neither one of them spoke a word for a moment, until—

“Just coffee, thanks.” The ravenette had a gentle voice, countering his intimidating stature. She nodded, a strained ‘Of course!’ falling from her lips before she walked back to her place at the counter. Still, she felt their burning stares pierce through her back.

Fate held a scissor to the string.

She tried to mind her own business. She really did. Returning to brewing some coffee for the person in line, sliding it across the table, and giving them a smile. Her lips could barely form the words, “Have a good day,” before she cut herself off, eyes widening. The coffee she had handed them knocked out of their grasp, laying spilled on the floor.

[name] gasped quietly, eyes darting back up to meet black and blue hues. She froze a second, suddenly realizing that while she’d been on autopilot, spacing out— The rest of the cafe had gone empty. Beginning to yell at the pair, the customer the coffee had been for looked beyond pissed. They opened their mouth to continue screaming at the white-haired man, but—

A swift flick of his fingers, and the customer went flying across the room, seemingly gaining momentum as they crashed against the wall and hit their head hard enough to knock out. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room, allowing [name] to freeze completely. Her face paled in horror at the sight, a horrifying entity forming right behind the customer. They didn’t get the chance to fight, head effectively bitten clean off their body.

Blood poured forth from the stump like that of the Lord, body falling limp. The crimson color had splattered all over the walls and floor, a horrifying canvas of the spiral to hell, to purgatory—

Muted noiret hair cascaded over his shoulder as the man knelt on one knee in front of the body. He seemed to observe the way a few ants had already begun crawling out of the small hole in the wall, breaths quiet. Then, he cracked a smile. “‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’… May your god have mercy on your soul, low-life.”

With that, the entity swallowed the rest of the customer up whole.

It was quiet for a second. A clock ticked in the background, but she swore it almost felt like the seconds had slowed down. [name]’s mind was running wild with the visual and implied information dumped onto her. ‘What was that entity? Why did they kill the customer? What were they gonna do to her? Was this it? Were they going to kill her too?’

Despite the icy look he sent the corpse, the white-haired man huffed out a snicker. “C’mon, Suguru, don’t be like that.” He dragged the last word out, cracking his knuckles in front of him. His sapphire eyes took their time in studying every reaction [name] had to offer. From her shivers to her darting eyes — He consumed it all.

The ravenette chuckled too, lightheartedly smacking the other on the back. “How else should I be, Satoru?”

That seemed to snap her out of her state. The girl tried to scream, all blood leaving her face, but all she could form was a weak whimper. Her hands clutched at her uniform in an effort to ground herself, trying to sprint for the back. There were about 15 steps between herself and the door. She only made 3.

A hand clasped around her wrist, tugging her backward and into a chest. “Trying to leave so soon? Oh c’mon now, princess,” Satoru’s hand trailed down to her waist, lips brushing against her earlobe and greedily drinking up the shivers he got in return. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Suguru made his way to her front, one hand in his pocket while the other grabbed her cheeks to make sure she looked right into those pools of tar. He smiled softly, a stark contrast to Satoru’s smug grin as his lips nipped at her neck. Suguru took in every little detail of her face, including the blood from the customer’s splatter. The pores, the imperfections, the perfections— He couldn’t get enough.

“You’re a beautiful thing, y’know that?” He muttered, as if it was a secret only between the two of them. Something that no one else should ever know about. She tried to form a remark, anything to tell them off— But all it sounded like to them was a puppy’s whines.

His lips came crashing onto hers with a passion that rivaled Hades as he pursued Persephone. [name] tried desperately to push them off, using every bit of the strength she had— Yet as they backed her into the backroom, she knew it was all in vain. The realization didn’t stop her though, lips finally pushing past their rest and yelling for them to stop, almost sure it might draw the attention of someone outside. Before they closed the door, she saw that it had begun to pour rain, loud enough to completely mask any and all of her noises.

Satoru was the one that pushed her down onto the counter, Suguru immediately beginning to pull her oversized shirt off. The white haired man ran a hand through his strands at the sight, a hissed “Fuck,…” pulling through his throat. The ravenette saw how [name] tried to cover herself again, face pink, and immediately pinned her wrists above her head.

“Shh… It’s— It’s okay, we’ll take care of you, right, ‘Toru?” His voice was tight, like he was refraining from saying something, doing something— She tried to tug her wrists away from his hold, yelling for help, telling them to stop, just about anything that could just end the moment here and now.

A chuckle, and Satoru leaned over her body, face mere centimeters from hers. His lips practically brushed hers as those damned jewel-like orbs devoured her own.

“Yeah, we’ll treat ya real good, princess.”

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳-𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 ☆

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dollvied · 17 days

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Hi! saw your post abt fic req and i wonder if you can do a yandere jjk hybrid au! i've been thinking about yandere moths/butterflies stsg with spider!reader and god the dynamics it could make. could be a fic or headcannon kinda thing

𖦁ׅ ࣪ ׂ 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑫𝑬𝒀 ៵ 🐇 ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆

✦ summary . . . short headcanons of butterfly ! gojo x spider ! reader x moth ! geto.

✦ characters . . . butterfly ! gojo x spider ! reader x moth ! geto

✦ warnings . . . ( not so ) yandere , chubby ! reader , hybrid au , short hc , jealousy , love triangle

✦ notes . . . hii nonnie this idea is so cool i love your brain sm <3 but i kinda hate this bcs this was super short and boring , so sorry for that ! ! 😓

MOTH! GETO who is deeply inlove with you! to the point where his eyes goes heart eyes everytime you breath — admiring your beauty (and personality). oh, but he‘s not the only one though!

BUTTERFLY! GOJO who has such a beautiful wings, always showing them off. he often carries you to his flowery grassland, holding onto your 8 fluffy legs.

MOTH! GETO who watches you trap your prey with your sticky thin webs, and attaches them to your webs that was covering almost entirely of the tree. he watches from afar and seemingly adores at the way you happily crawl back to the forest to get more preys.

BUTTERFLY! GOJO who absolutely despise the way you gave MOTH! GETO your attention. why aren‘t you praising him? MOTH! GETO doesn‘t have a pretty wings like him, so what is it that MOTH! GETO have and BUTTERFLY! GOJO doesn‘t?

MOTH! GETO who makes sure to keep an eye on his best friend, BUTTERFLY! GOJO. he‘s getting a little to close with you lately and fears he might steal you away.

BUTTERFLY! GOJO who almost wanted to strangle the certain spider for saying a flirtatious comment to you, rage fills his large blue eyes, his hand balled up into a fist. the spider even dared to lay his hand on your plushy waist, his beloved‘s waist! does he not see the butterfly standing behind him, glaring behind him?

MOTH! GETO who glares at every spiders (except for you, of course) in your town when walking with you. he‘s not even pleased with female spiders trying to flirt with him when you‘re not looking. his eyes are only on you, and too bad his eyes aren‘t on you only.

BUTTERFLY! GOJO and MOTH! GETO who finally agrees with the idea of sharing you, even though they aren‘t fond of it, but they still will try to share their beloved as much as they can <3

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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🥳🎂🎈🎉

In your recent fic (the sun eats the moon) which was amazing, How did Gojo react when he first saw reader again as a paralegal after not seeing her for 10 years, was it? How did he feel about having to hide how he truly felt when seeing her again?

Again, he doesn't realize it was you until an embarrassingly long time. But when he does, it'll definitely get harder and harder for him to act like he doesn't remember you. I never said this in the actual fic (god I wish I did tho) but he'd definitely play mind games with you. You'd be doing something with Higurama and he'd come out of nowhere to talk to his lawyer and then he'd turn to you and be like "god, you look so familiar. I feel like we've met before." and then he'd watch you sweat and try to lie your way out. You were always so easy to fluster, just like he remembers.

He gets a little petty, purposely inviting hot supermodels over at a time when he knows you'll be there. When you barely pay attention to them he gets all huffy and basically kicks them out considering they didn't do the one thing they were supposed to do (aka make you jealous). Again, he's petty like that.

#yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru x reader #dark gojo satoru #god hes unsufferable #yandere #dark jjk #“The Sun Eats the Moon” Asks #SEM

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appleblueberry-pie · 1 year

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You're actually a powerful being, nearly matching satoru, and he can't stop trailing after you(secretly, of course). You dress so prettily and your house is so adorable, just like you. You live a mundane lifestyle like you couldn't have the world at your feet(you do!!). And he find a way to introduce himself to you. Slowly, he tries to make himself your whole world, but you make it hard for him to get close, telling him you're more independent than he thinks. He loves a good chase.

Maybe Geto would trail after your strong energy, sensing you while in a crowd of humans packed together like sardines. Your energy would lead him to a regular grocery store and he'd find you looking at expensive apples. His world stopped, seeing how beautiful you were. Your beautiful hands, face and amazing lips. God, he couldn't look away. He didn't care how weird it was to go after someone in a grocery store, he HAD to know everything about you.

But before he could step towards you, you looked over at him and smiled. His heart felt heavy in his chest seeing your beautiful smile. You strolled over with your cart and waved. "Sorry if you don't know what I'm talking about....but I could feel your energy from over there. I felt like I had to talk to you. My name's -" from then, he knew it was meant to be (you just thought it'd be nice to have a friend that also has powers. Not what he's thinking).

He could already imagine you with your back to his chest in bed, round with his child as he softly caresses your warm belly in the quiet morning. You smelled so good from where he's standing (even though he's like 5 feet away from you). Like cinnamon pie that he hasn't had in years.

#can you tell i favor geto more lmaooo #yandere geto #yandere geto x reader #yandere suguru #yandere suguru x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto suguru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere satoru #yandere satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere satosugu x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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darshy · 6 days

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pretty, pt. 2

some of the formatting on this is screwed, i know, it’s just a struggle adjusting things on a phone ):

n e way, enjoy!!

Megumi Fushiguro didn’t hate Satoru Gojo—at first. It was more of a simmering annoyance, something bubbling under his skin, threatening to slip out and crash. Nothing too dramatic. Tsumiki liked the man enough so it caused Megumi to tolerate him.

“After all, he saved us. Imagine where we’d be now without him!”

Before his sister said that, Megumi uttered his first curse word in relation to Gojo.

And, after living with the man for about two months, an anomaly occurred. Typically, Gojo would be absent for about a week. He’d say, “I’m just checking on something!” or “I’ve got a long mission—I’ll be back before you know it!”

Now, he’s been gone for a month.

Not that it really matters; the two siblings have a roof over their head and a surplus of food. It’s not their business to be in Gojo’s business.

It’s not Megumi’s business to be in Gojo’s business.

There’s a creak in the house at two AM. The only creak in this house is located in the kitchen, right in front of the refrigerator. Megumi only knows this because he was tasked—by Gojo—to find every creak in a building as a survival tactic. Just in case he was kidnapped.

Or, if he wanted to sneak some food in the middle of the night. Doesn’t really matter the situation.

Megumi blinks and attempts to wipe the sleep from his eyes. The sound was minor, could easily pass as a tree scratching a window, but Megumi’s gut is twisting. It couldn’t be Tsumiki, she never gets up at night, and it couldn’t be Gojo because he always arrives back in the mornings.

So who is it?

He waddles to his bedroom door, toes twitching against the cold, wood floors. He presses on the lock, satisfied to hear a gentle click. Then, he pushes the door open. It reveals a dark hallway with several other doors in its walls. Tsumiki is just a few doors down to the left and Gojo’s room is the last room on the right. Megumi’s stomach churns as he looks to Gojo’s door.

‘Ugh, it’s so ominous…’

He pushes through anyway. The floor is smooth against his feet as he slowly makes his way down the house. Just as he reaches the middle of the staircase leading downstairs, he hears a murmur. Alarm rings through his mind and his hands shake.

What should he do? Is this an intruder? Should he leave and take Tsumiki with him? Call Gojo? Fight? His technique isn’t very refined—Gojo has been so busy lately that he wasn’t any help—and he’s never actually fought before. He could call for 911 too…

What should he do?

The murmuring gets louder, more audible. Megumi strains to hear from his spot, frozen, too scared to go up but still too scared to go down.

”M’gon’ kill that—- —watch him choke— -“

Megumi leans closer by holding onto the handrail of the staircase while praying that it doesn’t create a creak of its own.

”..she’s…mine. Mine.

“—Megumi, ah, why are you awake?”

Megumi holds his breath as he stumbles down the stairs. He, surprisingly, doesn’t feel the harsh impact of the ground against his bones. Instead, there’s a feeling of warmth and the smell of a girl. Megumi pulls away immediately. He’s quick to mask his face of fear, and instead, replaces it with a glare and a sneer. “Gojo? Why are you here?”

”Am I not allowed in my own house?” His smile is slow going, just a bit wobbly, and rather empty-looking.

Megumi jerks back even further. “Are you drunk?”

“A question answered by three other questions,” Gojo says with the bark of a laugh. His breath smells weird. Obviously there’s the stench of alcohol but there’s something else there. Lingering.

Stinking.

”You smell,” Megumi mutters. Gojo blinks down at him. “You’re stinking up the air,” he says a bit louder while conscious of Tsumiki’s gentle snoring. Gojo grins again.

”And you’re drunk. Why are you drunk? I’ve never seen you drink.”

”Awh! Am I worrying you, Megumi-chan? But don’t worry—I’m an adult, so I can do adult things like this.” Megumi cringes at the honorific and cringes even more so at Gojo’s use of ‘adult.’

”There’s no kind of adult in you.”

”..okay! Time for bed!”

Gojo swipes up Megumi and quickly warps the two into the boy’s bedroom. Megumi’s stomach churns and he wants to puke.

But underneath all the smells of alcohol, there’s a twinge of floral essence. It smells like the shampoo and perfume that Tsumiki uses. It smells like a girl.

Megumi opens his mouth to ask another question but then Gojo is gone.

“Why were you awake last night?” Gojo asks as Megumi pours cereal into a bowl. Tsumiki blinks between the two of them, her mouth full.

”I was thirsty,” Megumi says lowly and glances up to his adopted father. Gojo has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a bit messy.

“I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” His breath permeates the air; now the aroma of mint and toothpaste. His eyes twinkle and Megumi knows that he saw through the lie.

Change is a constant in life. It’s so much of a constant that Megumi is accustomed to it. A new school, a new bed, a new life…

It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hate change, because he hates change.

He hates coming home to tiny little curses wriggling about. He hates the new craze in Gojo’s eyes. He hates how the hallways are dark at night. He hates the muffled noise coming from Gojo’s room.

He doesn’t necessarily mind the new smell that tangles with Gojo’s cologne.

He still hates change.

Megumi wakes up at five in the morning. His stomach is killing him. It’s twisting and knotting and spinning.

He moves to the hallway bathroom and is surprised to see the light on, shining beneath the door. Gojo is gone again and Tsumiki never wakes up at night.

”Tsumiki,” he calls gently, holding his stomach. She doesn’t reply.

”Tsumiki, please let me in.”

Silence.

”…Tsumiki?”

There’s a shift of a shadow, a disturbance to the light. Megumi recoils quickly and nearly smacks his head against the picture frame behind him. His stomach rolls.

He decides to use the bathroom downstairs, unnerved.

Tsumiki closes the front door behind them. The heat is nearly unbearable so the siblings scramble to remove their socks and shoes. Soon, they lay against the cool tile floors of the kitchen. Tsumiki is looking at Megumi and Megumi is looking at the ceiling.

”It’s hot,” she groans. Megumi nods in agreement. Both of their faces are flushed feverishly. Megumi wants to take a nap against the tiles so he slowly closes his eyes.

”Hey, wanna get some popsicles?”

Megumi opens his eyes. “Yeah.”

The two stand up. Just as Megumi reaches for his sandals, Tsumiki stops him, “I’ll go—I have the money.” For proof, she takes her pocket in hand and shakes it. Change jingles loudly.

”Huh?”

”I’m gonna go. By myself. Just tell me what you want.”

Megumi’s eyebrow twitches. “But I wanna go too.”

”Just tell me what you want.”

”…fine.” Megumi proceeds to babble about a specific ice cream before Tsumiki takes off. The last words to leave her lips are: “Don’t forget to lock the door!” He dutifully follows—turning three locks until they click—but is then faced by another obstacle: boredom. He doesn’t have homework assigned and he doesn’t really have any chores that needed to be done.

Megumi lays against the tiles again. He sweats, heating the cold surface up, so he slides to another section of the floor. He repeats this three times until there’s dirt and mini pebbles sticking to his cheeks. Tsumiki is not back yet.

The boy makes his way up the stairs and into his room. He can probably find something remotely interesting inside but—oh.

Megumi pauses. His hand that was raised to open the door falls to his side.

Gojo’s room is making noises. It’s scratching and crying, almost like a sound for help. Megumi eyes the door with a tilted head. He takes a step forward and then he hears it.

Pleading.

Megumi’s guts twist and his fingers flex. He’s struggling to breathe and he’s reminded of Tsumiki’s words of “In through your nose and out through your mouth.” It’s not enough.

He staggers backwards. The noises get that much louder with a few more scratches and a few more sobs. Megumi is torn between investigating and leaving.

He chooses to depart. He moves back to the top of the stairs, grasping the handrails so tight they’ll leave marks in his palms.

—but what if this is urgent?

Megumi blinks and squeezes the handrail again and doesn’t take any further steps.

What if they need help?

He turns back to the door. His mind is full of slush and he’s hot and sticky and he just wants Tsumiki to come back with a bag full of popsicles and ice creams.

What if Gojo is hiding something?

He places his hand on the doorknob. He’s shaking. The scratches have subsided but Megumi can clearly hear a sniffle every few seconds.

The knob doesn’t turn. The door is locked.

What is Gojo hiding?

Megumi squats. He presses his face against the floor and peers into the thin crack under Gojo’s door. A single eye and bloodied finger tips stare back at him.

He screams and screams and screams and runs to the bathroom to puke.

Who is Gojo hiding?

”Megumi! I’m back!” Tsumiki calls from the front door. “And guess who I found!” She doesn’t explicitly say who and, unfortunately, the response she receives is silence.

Then, there’s loud crying.

”Ah—Megumi!” Tsumiki hurries up the stairs with Gojo right behind her. The two find Megumi hunched over the toilet, heaving and hacking. Gojo approaches with open arms, a frown on his face.

“Megumi? What happened?”

Gojo barely grazes Megumi’s shoulder before he’s shoved away. Megumi’s glaring and sobbing. Tsumiki parts her mouth in shock—Gojo tenses up right beside her.

As Tsumiki leans in to coddle her brother, Gojo stands, watching, eyes wide and fists clenching.

What did he see?

Megumi gasps for air as he’s slammed into the fighting mattress. Gojo stands above him, a simple smile on his face. It doesn’t look real.

”I told you to bend your knees more,” Gojo says with a patronizing tone, “If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have fallen.”

That’s a lie. Gojo would have pushed him down anyway, it doesn’t matter how much force he would of had to use.

“I just… I want to learn my technique more,” Megumi says lowly. He claws at a rip in the mattress. Slowly, fluff crawls out of it. Gojo wipes it away with his foot. Megumi huffs.

”To master a technique, you need to learn basic fighting. How else did you think I became this great?” Gojo laughs obnoxiously and Megumi doesn’t feel a tug of his lips or a happy beat of his heart or anything. It’s all been stowed away since he discovered the person trapped in Gojo’s room. If that’s even a person.

Obviously, Megumi has attempted to open Gojo’s room for a while yet. The time windows have been small, unfortunately. Gojo has stayed home for a while now—the scheduling of his missions have gotten more and more bleak. As if the higher ups don’t need him. As if there are less and less curses.

That will never be true.

And besides, Megumi shouldn’t be so worried about it anyway. He could just be seeing things, or it’s some kind a curse that Gojo just wants to specifically torture. (And, even at that, Megumi’s not sure if the thing is being tortured. He’s not even sure as to what happens in that room.)

”—despite the challenges, which you’ll go through by the way, you’ll always come out on top because you have me, Megumi! Oh, and… Hey! Are you listening?”

”No,” Megumi replies before he spots a fist coming right for his forehead.

Megumi watches the two dogs zip around each other. They nip and preen and jump and yap. Their furs brush and mix and it’s pretty to look at.

Tsumiki watches too. She sits next to Megumi, playing in the grass with her toes. Leaves are falling and snow will be arriving soon, but Tsumiki is comfortable going around barefoot and wearing shorts and a tank top.

“Is it a lot of work?” she asks, “To make them play, I mean.”

Megumi shrugs. The dogs freeze for a second, a moment of stillness, but then they’re back to enjoying life.

“Well—at least it’s nice to see.”

Megumi agrees. He doesn’t say that aloud.

Gojo has a girlfriend. She smells a little like Tsumiki.

She’s sitting next to him at the table, hands in her lap, head swirled in his direction. Tsumiki admires her a lot. Megumi shifts uncomfortably in his seat as Gojo spoon feeds her. Under the blindfold, Megumi can imagine the heart eyes.

Later, the couple settle onto the couch, deciding to watch a movie. Tsumiki and Megumi are instructed to go to bed.

”Megumi…!” Tsumiki hisses when Megumi stops at the top of the stairs. “Gojo told us to go to sleep. I don’t want to be in trouble because you’re caught watching TV!”

”She’s wearing gloves, Tsumiki.”

”Huh?”

”She’s wearing gloves inside.”

”Well it’s fall and maybe she runs cold,” Tsumiki says, leaning against a nearby wall. “Or, maybe, she doesn’t have her nails done.” Tsumiki sighs dreamily. “She really is perfect.”

Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Ew.” He turns back to look down the staircase.

Gojo’s standing there, hands on his hips. His lips are puckered in a pouting way. “I said go to bed!!”

Tsumiki laughs.

Megumi’s up in the dead of night.

He makes his way to Gojo’s room with expectations of the sounds of creaking and moaning and crying.

There’s nothing—even as he crouches to peer under the crack of the door, whispering back, promising to help this time.

There’s nothing but faint scratch marks on the floor.

The girlfriend—you—has been around more often. Sometimes it’s babysitting while Gojo is gone (which, by the way, the siblings have never had a babysitter before, as per Gojo’s terrible parenting skills), but most of the time it’s while Gojo is around. The two of you stay in the bedroom for a majority of the visit, so Tsumiki clings to Megumi until you come out.

Currently, this is a babysitting scenario. Gojo’s been gone for two weeks and you’ve been doing your due diligence for the kids. Cooking, cleaning, and playing house seem to be your specialty.

”You’d be a great mom,” Tsumiki says. Megumi physically flinches and you pause your mindless surfing on the TV. You’re still wearing gloves.

“Oh, you think?” you ask rather awkwardly. Tsumiki nods.

”I’m just waiting for the day Gojo proposes.”

Megumi pops his mouth open, to tell Tsumiki to knock it off or something but then she stands up and announces that she will grab some snacks.

Megumi’s eyes immediately find yours after that. “I’m sorry. I…don’t know why she said that.” He feels miffed.

”It’s okay,” you smile gently. It appears that you want to say more but then stop. You curl into the side of the couch, on the complete opposite side of Megumi. You look almost sad, like something is missing in your eyes.

”You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Megumi says and you blink up at him. “I know that Gojo can be a bit pushy—“ he’s under exaggerating— “but he can’t boss you around or anything. You guys haven’t known each other for that long, right?”

Your lips part and just like before, you stop. It’s frustrating watching you pause and struggle by simply not saying what you want to say. Then it’s awkward when your eyes dart up to the clock, waiting for your cue to shout I should head home now!

And just as Megumi gives up, slinking into his side of the couch, face pressed against the armrest, you talk.

”Satoru told me what you guys have been through—so don’t think I’m upset about Tsumiki. I honestly thought it was kinda funny.” You grin a little and Megumi pouts back.

”She still shouldn’t have said that.”

”It’s whatever.” You shrug but still grin and there’s a sparkle in your eyes that is similar to Tsumiki’s. Oh. That’s what was missing in you. That’s probably what made Gojo fall for you.

You’re really nice looking.

Megumi’s face warms. He distracts himself by looking at your gloved hands. Like clockwork, you hide them in your lap, with an uncomfortable look on your face.

”I’ve, um, known Satoru my whole life,” you blurt. Megumi realizes that you don’t want him to question the gloves. “He would visit the US during his holidays and he would find me.”

Megumi leans in and curiously questions, “Find you?”

”Because he wanted me—us—to live here, in Japan, together,” you say and the sparkle leaves your eyes. You’re not so pretty anymore. “And guess what happened.”

You and Gojo must have broken up. The teacher has been disturbed lately. He screams and breaks everything in his sight and he almost appears to lose control. (Of course, this is while the kids are—supposedly—sleeping. He wouldn’t dare show unruly behavior to growing and easily-influenced children!)

Thankfully, he doesn’t lose control, less Megumi be six feet underground.

And Megumi isn’t sad. Your absence doesn’t make his heart heavy. Doesn’t make him want to cry and throw things too because that’s how Gojo does it and Megumi isn’t him. Megumi is simply Megumi. He doesn’t want you back like Gojo does. He’d just appreciate it if you visited once in a while. It would help the broken plates. It would help with the increased amount of curses.

“Sensei.”

”Sensei.”

”No Megumi! Sensei.” Gojo corrects.

”That’s what I’m saying!” Megumi groans. “It’s not like I’ve never said this before. I literally go to school, Gojo.”

”You mean sensei,” Gojo says with a sly smile. Megumi groans again.

He’s growing up. It feels slow, like each day is dragging by. It doesn’t help that Tsumiki has fallen ill, even to the point of bedriddenness. But it’s okay. Because Megumi is growing and he’s going to fix her.

He’s going to fix everything.

“Geto Suguru.” Megumi looks up to his soon-to-be teacher. “You knew him?”

Gojo shifts uncomfortably. “He was my best friend! And now I have to kill him.”

”Oh,” Megumi utters because there’s nothing else to say. He looks back down to the sheet. He squints at a near familiar name. Shoko Ieiri. Megumi taps the small picture of her. Gojo grins.

”Another friend. I don’t have to kill her.”

”Oh,” he utters again, because there’s still nothing to say.

Just before school starts, just before Gojo officially becomes Megumi’s teacher, you’re back. Standing in a pretty outfit, beaming at the two from inside Gojo’s home. Megumi stiffens and attempts to meet Gojo’s eyes. His attempts are ignored in favor of you, however.

The two make it inside. They’re sweating, at least Megumi is, from the relentless practice. And he wants to ask what you’re doing here. Why you’ve shown up out of the blue in a pretty outfit, smelling a bit like Tsumiki and not wearing gloves at all.

He’s going to ask but then you place food in front of the two and Megumi can’t say no to this.

So he eats.

There’s comfortable conversation for you and Gojo. It’s weird not having Tsumiki sitting next to him, whispering, prying. She would be waiting for you to finish. She’d wait and wait and wait.

Megumi keeps eating. His mind feels like it’s running a little slow.

”Of course I would, Satoru… Why do you think I’m here?” You say while smiling. It looks weird.

”For me.” Gojo’s smiling too. His is easier to decode than yours. It’s a simple cypher: right corner of his mouth is a bit down and his front teeth are gnawing into the flesh. He’s not upset but maybe a bit annoyed at… something. Megumi’s not so sure. The teacher always carries a look like that when Megumi misplaces his foot. Or when the teen is up at night, creeping into the halls.

Just as Megumi’s head droops, his forehead hovering right above the countertop, he hears you gasp. Blearily, he looks to his two elders. Gojo’s hand is clutched around a wrist you’re attempting to tug back. The teacher’s face is bright red with his glasses slipping down his nose sloppily. “Satoru…!” you whine and pull back.

It’s terrifying how quickly Gojo leaps across the counter to get to you.

Megumi closes his eyes.

Itadori is a mess. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even be alive.

He shouldn’t be in Megumi’s dorm room, but he is, and he’s poking and prodding around. He says things like: “Woah Fushiguro!! What is this?!” and it’s a book about psychology. When Itadori began to open Megumi’s drawers, a pillow was thrown to his head.

“Ahhh Fushiguro, your room is so clean… Where’s all the posters?” Itadori asks. He’s peering over Megumi’s shoulder. Math homework peer right back at him.

”What posters?” Megumi attempts to shrug the other away. Itadori stays and gestures around the room. “You know, like, really hot girls in bikinis! And big butts! Like Jennifer Lawrence.”

Megumi’s face turns red. “Hell no!” And he finally swats Itadori away.

Megumi resumes his work for a few minutes longer before looking over to Itadori. He’s, again, snooping around. Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Put that down.” Itadori’s holding a picture frame before flipping it to green eyes. ”Who is this? Your mom or something?”

Soon-to-be. Right. Gojo and you are engaged. Have been for about a month. The wedding will happen in about three weeks from now.

Feigning boredom, Megumi looks back to his papers. “Gojo-sensei hasn’t told you about her yet? I figured he would blab about her every second he could,” he mutters. Itadori appears a bit skittish after hearing that.

”I mean, he talks about his fiancée…”

”Yeah.”

”Oh… OH!” Itadori jumps up and Megumi can practically see the cogwheels turning in his head. “So she will be your mom! Wow, okay!” Itadori turns back to the picture frame. Suddenly, a mouth manifests out of Itadori’s cheek and laughs.

”I’m sure she’ll make a great meal!”

Megumi barely suppresses the punch heading for Itadori’s face.

A runaway bride is what you are. Fleeing the night before the wedding.

Gojo has held a stifling quiet for the past 32 hours. His eyes are dull. Megumi wants to reach out and offer some sort of comfort. Instead, he says simply, “It’s probably just some misunderstanding.”

Gojo doesn’t look up. Doesn’t react, doesn’t move, and Megumi would think that he were dead if not for the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

”I’m tired of her running away,” Gojo says after a pregnant pause. “I know what she wants and she knows what I want. It’s not like I’m going to kill her.”

Megumi’s stomach rolls and it reminds him of being a kid, sneaking around and trying to get into Gojo’s room because he thinks someone’s trapped in there. It’s silly, looking back on it, but his stomach is rolling all the same again.

He makes his way back to the school. He dreams of his warm bed and warm shower and warm clothes. He’s tired of the fighting. He’s tired of Tsumiki not waking up and nagging him. He’s tired of the looks of his friends, each exhausted and on the brink of death after each mission. He’s tired of it all.

As Megumi passes a local store, he smells something like Tsumiki. Floral-ish, like flowers, like how most girls smell. It smells nice and comforting and like you.

He turns to the store. His heart seems to stop in his chest and his mouth dries.

You notice him back. Your eyes lock with wide green ones.

Megumi is right in front of you in half a second. His arms are stretched wide, a hugging gesture, but you don’t take it. You shuffle, holding a wrinkled bag in your hands. Megumi drops his arms.

”Hi,” he whispers. He doesn’t know if you’re real or if it’s just the hysteria creeping into him. He wants to touch and feel, maybe poke and prod while he’s at it. You look like you, but are you really? You smell like you, but is this fake lying?

”Hi Megumi,” you whisper back and Megumi hugs you. You’re stiff (and you shouldn’t be) but you manage to wrap your arms around his middle. Your hair tickles his mouth and he just hugs you closer.

”I missed you so much,” he says into the top of your head. He pauses for a moment to inhale. You tense up like you’re waiting for bad news—and for good reason. Gojo-sensei has been in his quiet, anger mood for far too long. Megumi can’t wait for it to end.

“We want you back home.” He inhales your scent again. Sweet. Comforting. Home.

”I know,” you say into his jacket. (Despair.)

#x reader #female reader #24 #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru

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ddarker-dreams · 9 months

Note

Lock can't we have some Gojo thoughts from your very big and wrinkly brain please🥺🤲?

gojo satoru................................................... is..................................................... something of a tragic character.

there's an arrogance to him, but arrogance is a thin veil to obscure a deeper pain. he has such strength and can perform wondrous feats, only for the world he wishes to build to be far, far away. it's one thing to feel powerless and find the ambition of making meaningful change a pointless endeavor. it's another to have power and recognize the wide gap in the reality one wants to see versus the reality they're forced to live.

in contrast to his boisterous personality, the intensity he exudes in a relationship is more subtle, more prone to being overlooked. it's in the little things. he isn't controlling, he's concerned, he isn't being unfair, he's looking out for your best interest in your blind spots. you both can bicker about the most insignificant things — what movie to watch this weekend or if one flavor of crepe is better than the other — but the serious conversations? the hard talks where neither partner gets a wink of sleep the following night and trudges lifelessly throughout the day? those don't happen.

not because they don't need to. it's because he excels at convincing you it's not worth all the trouble, all the potential mess it'd stir up.

he values your happiness, would pursue it to the ends of the earth, and still, it's placed second to his. a close second, yes, but you can slowly start to see the repercussions of every inch that creates the divide.

#gojo as a yan is a menace i fear #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere x reader #concepts #answered #Anonymous

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urprettylittlething · 21 days

Note

hiii I love your oneshots !! ^^ I’m sorry if this comes off as pushy I’m not trying to rush you I swear but I’m just curious are you still posting cursed kitty verse?

Hello ml's its been so long!! TT

Your not coming off as pushy at all don't worry <3

I've been very ill and busy so unfortunately my writing has taken a bit of a backseat at the moment, but I am still working on all your requests I promise!

I made the decision to have them all written up and ready to go to alleviate the stress a bit from posting. But I will be back I can assure you :)

#cursedkitty #yandere geto suguru x reader #yandere gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #anon <3 #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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gojorgeous · 3 months

Text

"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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