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#yandere satoru
appleblueberry-pie · 1 month
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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's
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A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.
SCENARIO:
"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."
You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.
"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."
You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.
"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."
YANDERE REACTIONS:
Sukuna:
Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?
He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.
He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.
Kento:
Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.
But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.
"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.
Suguru:
"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.
"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?
"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.
"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.
Choso:
Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.
He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.
Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.
He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.
He hates this park.
"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"
Toji:
Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.
No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.
You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.
He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.
Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.
Satoru:
Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.
He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."
Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.
He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.
"Satoru??"
He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.
He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.
"Satoru!"
Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.
Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."
No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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file #2: the amputation fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).
length: 2.9k.
warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.
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“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”
A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.
“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”
You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side beside you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.
“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”
At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”
You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”
“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Lole this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”
Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”
He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.
And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.
When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.
And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.
Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.
You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—
“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”
You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”
It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”
“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”
Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”
You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”
“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—
You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.
If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.
Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”
It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.
“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”
“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”
You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.
Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”
You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”
“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”
It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”
Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.
You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore.  There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.
Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”
“I know.”
“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”
“I know, ‘toru.”
“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”
You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.
At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.
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an-ambivalent · 1 year
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Yandere! Jujutsu Kaisen Headcanons
Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours  that can be uncomfortable and triggering to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the 'read more/keep reading' you are consenting to read this at your discretion.
Characters:  Satoru, Suguru, Choso and Sukuna 
Yandere! Gojo 
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Type: Clingy & overprotective 
Satoru is the ‘strongest’ and yet he’s lost so much. He’s never going to lose you too; that’s why, he keeps you nice and locked up secure in his extravagant residence that only he can access. You can’t leave the premises due to the tight security procedures Satoru has in place. But you wouldn’t need to since he made sure you have access to everything you would need or want within the premises. Well, almost everything.  It’s never easy to earn Satoru’s trust given how many people pray for his downfall. However, once you become his person, you will always be his person. This is particularly after the trauma he experienced, but very specific to you. When he’s with you, he wears no masks or facades. He can be completely true to himself. He can let his insecurities and fears about not being good enough bleed freely, and he can show his ugly desperation and cling onto you like a leech without any fears that someone will take you away from him. Anytime he’s not on a mission, he spends all of his time with you. You’re the only person keeping the last of his sanity intact. He loves you, he loves you the most. So, he is never going to let you go.
Yandere! Suguru 
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Type: Possessive 
There’s a turning point in Suguru’s life where everything changed, including your relationship with him. You remember when being around him felt like pure bliss. He used to be so kind, considerate, and attentive to your needs. But after that one mission, that made Getou abandon everything, all became different. 
He had abruptly showed up at your abode with empty eyes, fully drenched, and his wet clothes and hair clinging onto him. He clutched onto you and dug his  fingers into you and frantically begged you to leave with him right then and there. You were only trying to calm him down, but he had mistaken this as reluctance, hesitation, and a change in your loyalty to him. How could you even think about abandoning him when he needed you the most?! You noticed the darkness in his expression too late. He had you imprisoned to your spot with a curse he summoned without your notice. The jeer on his face was terrifying, and the glare he looked down on caused unanticipated tremors in your muscles. 
“I don’t know why I bothered asking… You’re just like everyone else. But I can’t let you leave me. Not you. You’re mine. I’ll make sure it always stays that way.”
Yandere! Choso
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Type: Stalker and protective 
Typically, Choso is lax and doesn’t care too much about what you’re up to, as long as it doesn’t break any of the rules he has set for you. Few of these rules being: you can’t go anywhere without his permission, you have to tell him everything and give regular updates if he cannot accompany you. Typically, he is always watching you from the shadows. Even without your regular updates, he knows what you’re up to because if he can’t follow you for some reason, then he makes one of his siblings keep tabs on you and report back to him. 
Choso really cherishes you. He does whatever he is capable of to take care of you. He believes that it is duty to look after you and protect you. He will ruthlessly hurt and kill anyone that hurts you, or believes will hurt you. 
Although Choso wouldn’t normally hurt you, there are instances where he might do something so that you depend on him. Choso enjoys being needed. He loves it even more when you rely on him for the most mundane things. It makes him feel like you cannot live without him just like how he cannot live with you. So, if there was ever a time where he feels that you’re becoming distant and trying to strive for independence, you might ‘accidentally’ have a fracture or two so he can support you and be there for you again. 
Yandere! Sukuna 
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 Type: Sadistic & possessive 
Sukuna has a preference for pain. Causing pain is how he felt free and exhilarated, causing pain is how he felt powerful, and causing pain is how he expressed his love. You’re an innocent petite being… Well, you are in comparison to his demon form. No matter what your size is, from Sukuna’s perspective, everything and everyone is smaller and beneath him. 
He loves you the way a monster can love and cherish their most prized treasure or pet. You may not be his only lover, but you are his number one. You’re the closest to perfection he craves and your innocence, opposite to his corrupted self, is what draws him in. He wants to be the reason for your ruin, your corruption. He wants to be the devil who shows you how delightful temptation is, pull you in, and just when you’re on the edge, tear off your wings, and shackle you to him so that you can never leave him. So you only belong to him. 
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aajjks · 5 months
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Gojo Saturo as your Boyfriend (m)
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note. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY DADDY I LOVE YOU SATORUUUUU
warnings. MËNTÏÖNS ÖF SĒX, swêêt göjö, lövěsïck göjö, mèntïöns öf jêâlöüsy.
having THEE gojo satoru as your boyfriend is an experience of lifetime for sure, it’s a whole fucking adventure.
And he’s not the typical type of a boyfriend, nah. He is satoru after all. He is hot and he knows that.
He’s a man who knows what he wants, and what he wants is you. So he is going to be very straightforward, of course he’s a confident man and he knows that he can charm you.
Who can resist that smile of his?
Truth is that Gojo will cherish you a lot, he is a very passionate lover, very sweet but cocky.
He will worship the ground you walk on but he is also very secure in himself.
He’s the type to notice the little things. He will definitely remember your birthday, your one month anniversary together, the day you both held hands for the first time and he’s really sneaky about it too.
Like he will play dumb infront of you, he would pretend like he has NO clue to what you’re talking about inside, he knows.
And he’s got a whole plan in his mind.
He just loves to surprise you.
He is the type to say you’re cute and he will compliment you on the most random of times. “Toru… hmm the food is good..” you’ll say while focusing on your food and he’s already staring at you.
“You’re so pretty yn.” WHILE YOU ARE LITERALLY EATING YOUR FOOD IN YOUR PYJAMAS.
And HIS EYES OH MY GOD.
They ARE MAGIC.
“Yn do you like my eyes?” See, he is a SUCKER for giving compliments and RECEIVING them too. And he’s not even shy to seek validation or attention from you.
He’s like tinkerbell you have to give him your attention or he’ll die.
“Yn oh my God yn give me your attention already, I feel like I’m suffocating.” He’d whine…. With his eyes all wide avd round, his lips curled up in a pout.
He’s is a baby in a man’s body sometimes.
He is a big sucker for cuddles, his hands will be all over your body, squeezing your skin, peppering butterfly kisses.
And he’s not shy to show you affection or how much he’s missed you. He’s the type to gush and brag about you to his friends x
And now when it comes to him being jealous, he’s often jealous, but harmless like pouting avd sulking if you sing give him attention or priorities your work over him
But when it comes to you receiving attention from people other than him… that bothers him.
“Hmm ynnnn… you are mine yeah?” His aura would shift completely cus he’s mostly cheery add cocky, annoying or affectionate.
But there are times where he’d just… feel threatened, you are everything to him and he doesn’t want to loose you.
And he makes that obvious through sex.
Your body is a temple and he’s going to worship it like his life depends on it.
Your pleasure = his pleasure.
Gojo Satoru is an addict, he can fuck you forever, he can eat you out forever. He can die between your legs.
And he even hopes that he will.
Gojo can be very rough, if frustrated, or jealous.
He will mark your body up, and he will cum in you raw, he will pull on your hair and will ask you to dig your nails into his back.
He’s an aggressive kisser, all teeth and tongue.
And he’s the type to smile in between kisses.
SEDUCTION MASTER. He will mostly be the one to initiate sex, he can’t sleep? Cockwarm him. you can’t sleep? He’s going to fuck you with his fingers.
He will love for you to check him out, he loves to know from your mouth just how desirable or and pretty he is.
CHECK HIM OUUUTTT
In short saturo is a great lover and a lovesick puppy. He will cherish you a lot.
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temptacioun · 5 months
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yandere ! gojo satoru
requested ; @buttercupmuffins
prompts ; “you think i’m watching you? don’t flatter yourself.” “is it so hard to love me?”
you don’t have evidence, but you’re quite certain it’s him.
gojo satoru. there’s something.. odd about the male. the way he carries himself had always been frustrating ; you’re not sure if you’ve ever met someone with a bigger ego. he’s so self absorbed it’s almost annoying.
but when you go to confront him, with a blurry picture of a mop of snow white hair on your front porch, his reaction is even more annoying. he has the nerve to grin, with that stupid sparkle in his eyes while he stares at you from behind his glasses, arms crossed over his chest.
“you think i’m watching you? don’t flatter yourself, i got better things to do.” his words follow a scoff and he turns around to leave. it leaves you speechless, staring at the picture in your hand and wondering if you’ve actually gone crazy.
you stand there for a bit longer, until you turn and head off.
satoru curses himself silently, though he has no doubt you’re questioning yourself more than him now. of course he’d been watching you, more than that. when he stands in your room at night and watches the way your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. he’s glad you’re such a heavy sleeper and never notice his greedy hands on your body.
“is it so hard to love me?” he knows you won’t answer that, you’re sleeping soundly. but still, he wonders. maybe he wouldn’t be so hard to love if his definition of love wasn’t so fucked up.
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mango-bango-bby · 10 months
Note
Ok so ik I already sent in a request but I just saw u asking for jjk ones and like 🤭 gojo feeding into y/ns praise kink. Like you can not tell me that man wouldn't fucking LOVE praising you and watching your thighs quiver as he licks ur pussy like a man starved 😩 I bet he'd like edging too, but not for too long because he also wants to make his darling cum over n over yk
He'd love u whining his name too
♡ Pretty Girl ♡
Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, NSFW, teasing, heavy praise, cunnilingus, slight edging, fem!reader
Summary: Gojo loves teasing you while eating you out (Yandere!Gojo x Fem!Reader)
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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Satoru never missed an opportunity to tease you. He’s found that the perfect way to tease you was to praise you relentlessly, all he needed to do was call you sweet names and tell you how amazing you were and it had you melting. He especially loved it when you would get embarrassed and flustered.
“C’mon, baby” Satoru says, watching you pull down your panties before climbing onto the bed where he lays. You were incredibly flustered when he suggested that tonight he wanted you to sit on his face. You crawl onto his chest, stopping right before his face, you nervously biting your lip.
“C’mon pretty girl, aren’t you going to sit on my face?” He says, grabbing onto your hips to pull you closer. Satoru hums as you’re hovering above his face, clearly nervous to fully sit on his face. You whimper a bit at the sudden contact of Satoru gently brushing your clit.
“Such a pretty pussy, huh? Pretty and tight for me” He says, watching you squirm at his words. He teases you even more, kitten licking your cunt. “My sweet girl, so sweet for me” he says, watching you whine when he grabs you hips tightly
“Satoru, stop” you whine, using your hands to cover up your face in embarrassment. You hated when he did this, he would edge you all while praising you and making you flustered by giving you so much praise. And even more, you hated that it turned you on so much.
You clearly wanted him to stop teasing you, and who was he to deny you? Satoru chuckles a bit before diving into cunt, pushing his tongue inside you while his nose bushed against your clit.
You open your mouth as if to moan, but no sound comes out. Your hands automatically come down to Satorus fluffy head of white hair, tightly gripping onto his hair as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
You whine, Satoru pulling away from you for only a moment. “Hmm, you taste so good” He mumbles before attaching himself to your clit. You squeal at how he plays with it with his tongue.
“Satoru! Don’t suck on it!” You whimper, hunching your back over him moving your hands from his hair to instead hold onto the top of the headboard. Satoru just can’t get enough of you when you get like this, you’re his sweet girl and he loves seeing you so overwhelmed with pleasure that you were trembling and tearing up.
Satoru loved knowing he was the only one to ever see you like this, he was going to be the only one to ever receive your love like this. “Your legs are shaking, pretty, are you close?” He asks, beginning to slip a finger into you, his other hand holding onto your hip.
You whimper a bit, nodding your head. “I’m gonna’ cum, Satoru, ‘m gonna’ cum!” You sob, Satoru sucking on your sensitive clit and fingering you with two fingers. His fingers were long and curled in the right way to make you weak in the knees. He knew exactly how to make you fold.
“C’mon, be a good girl and cum for me” He says, his breath hitting your pussy causing you to shiver. You grip onto Satoru’s hair as your orgasam finally hits you. Satoru chuckles against your clit at how you tighten around his fingers.
Fuck, you were so beautiful. He can’t believe you’re all his, he’s never let you go. After a moment, you’ve calmed down from your high. “I- I already came you don’t have to keep going” you whisper, whining at joke Satoru begins moving his fingers again, curling them into you.
“Oh, pretty girl, I’m no where near done with you”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Thank you for reading, darling!!
(A/N: I know I was supposed to release a different fic today but I wrote this up so fast because it inspired me so so much!!! Your requests always inspire me 🥺🥺💗 I hope you like it!!)
Masterlist ➸ ♡
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xjulixred45x · 2 months
Note
When I think about Yandere Gojo I suddenly remember that Veronica open the door meme that used to float around in tiktok. So inspired by that may I pleasw get a Yandere Gojo request where his darling locked themselves in the closet and refusing to come out.
Maybe i could make a Drabble of this one of You're comfortable? This is such a good idea for a scenerio
Thanks for the Request!
Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Reader: Open the Door
-"knock knock"-
Reader had hurriedly entered their apartment, after having run for entire blocks, dodging people and constantly looking behind them since they had managed to leave Gojo's house. The one they were sure had been left unconscious by the seal they had managed to put on him.
But as soon as they heard those words as they closed the door, they knew they had to run again.
and they did it.
-"I'm sorry for entering through your window! Horrible manners, but you know how I am~"-
they heard him speak as he futilely fled to their almost empty room, since most of his things were in Gojo's house, they closed the door and left to the first place that came to their mind--
The closet.
If you can't beat him, at least entertain him so he doesn't kill you. they thought.
Satoru walked slowly towards his partner's room, seeing them without problem through the blindfold. He didn't feel afraid, he wasn't even a little worried, he knew they couldn't run away from him. much less now.
Although he admitted it, watching them try even knowing how futile it is was quite funny, look at them, pretty little thing, thinking they have a chance, hiding in the closet like a scared child. But there's nothing to worry about! He is here after all.
He entered to the room, turning his back to them as he sat on the floor.
-"Now now, (reader), why don't you just go out and we go home? You must be hungry after having run so much."-
-"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!! THE DEPARTMENT ALARM RINGED AND THE POLICE WILL COME!"-
-"we'll be gone by then..come on! you had your moment of "freedom"! come out and we'll forget about this-"--"why?"- (reader) abruptly cut off Satoru, surprising him, but no more than their question. .
-"Why what?...no, wait, I know what you mean"-
Satoru never understood many of his partner's actions.
The feeling was mutual.
Why did they reject his affection? Why didn't they see that he did all this for them? Why don't they just accept that they are meant to be his?
...why was Satoru doing this to them?
-"I am meant to be yours... and you are meant to be MINE...I am everything you need!"-
Satoru was a little surprised to receive no response after that. So he continued talking, waiting for a reaction or at least, that they would get fed up with what he was saying and respond to him.
-"I FINALLY met someone who gives me these kinds of emotions... even if you don't like this I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP ON YOU" - Satoru expected to hear even a sob from (the reader) but he was greeted again by the silence of the aisle..
-"You KNEW that I couldn't live without you! YOU forced me to do this! I can't do it alone! Why is it so HARD for you to accept me?!"- Satoru said as he turned around abruptly, losing his patience.
But then he noticed something that made him feel a strange sensation in his stomach, as he saw that through the closet door, (reader)'s body temperature was decreasing....
NO.....
-"(READER)!- open the- open the door please! (READER)! open the door!"-
No response.
-"(READER) can we forget that this happened and go back home? Can you say something...?"-
Satoru was in front of the closet doors, with his hands shaking as he tried to get (Reader) to answer him without success. He could see they were there but something was very wrong...
-"(READER) YOU'RE SCARED! I GET IT! NOW STOP THE TRICKS AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"- Satoru stood up from his kneeling position and prepared himself in case (reader) moved. They did not.
-"(READER) DON'T MAKE ME GET IN THERE! I'M GOING TO COUNT TO 3!!--
1-
2--
FUCK IT!"
Satoru didn't even have to move a muscle for the closet door to shatter in front of him, leaving (reader) exposed.
-"THE GAMES ARE OVER!"-
(Reader) had put a belt around their neck as tight as possible to try to kill themselves.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Satoru broke the belt too. They were practically unconscious, barely breathing, but it was fine. They were going to be fine.
Satoru felt that strange feeling disappear and a soft sensation came to him. Seeing them so helpless, he stretched out his hand and caressed their cheek lovingly.
Aw...what a scare they gave him...he will definitely have to take care of them more now. Maybe spend more time with them so they don't feel bad, especially after this, they're going to need it. Both.
-"NOW...let's go home, shall we?"-
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Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year
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【 PROVENANCE OF THE SUN | ZERO : ASCENSIONEM DEI NOVI 】
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RISING SUN REMAKE
YANDERE! JJK! VARIOUS! x CULT GOD! READER x CULT MEMBERS
Sign up for the cult and get notified on when this updates by replying! [Taglist]
Synopsis: In the thousands of years Sorcerers have challenged curses, there was one thing they have yet to utilize. Blessings, constructed by the positive emotions of humanity such as love and adoration.
And at the center of it all was [Y/N] [L/N], ORTUS SOLIS’s biggest blessing yet.
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THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF HAPPY REIGN BE THINE;
DELICATE, GLOVED HANDS combed through [hair color] tresses. Efficient in its movements; any tangled knots of hair swiftly disappeared. The chirping of birds and crickets, along with the golden luminescence of the sun breached through the glass panes and into the chambers of the dignified godling.
“May this lowly servant bask in the Sun’s glow.” Even if muffled by the doors between them. The deity knew which of their followers dared to interrupt their routine. Only few were bold — no — idiotic enough to impose.
The pampered child answered with a low volume, a heavy disinterest laced their voice, “Enter.”
RULE ON, MY LORD, UNTIL WHAT ARE PEBBLES NOW.
“This lowly servant has come to divulge the Sun with the words of the oracle.” An elderly man bursted in. Head high, he wore robes of grandeur quality; with golden embroidery upon white fabric. He stood out in the traditionally styled house. “Permission to speak?”
The pair of maids who worked on the child’s hair parted from their master. The action gave the man a full view of their entrancing form. Eyes of [eye color] gazed at him. He could already feel his limbs going weak. An overwhelming sense of exhilaration, adoration, and need to bow seeped into him. The man knew that if he had not been as exposed to the deity as he was throughout the years, their ethereality might have already made his heart stop.
The child’s eyes wandered throughout his figure. Every moment their glance lingered sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. Only for them to break their line of sight. “Permission granted.”
BY AGES UNITED TO MIGHTY ROCKS SHALL GROW.
Nay, he realized, it was not just their divine image nor scrutiny. Any sound that left from their lips would be enough to make a crowd dead where they stand, or at the very least be crippled by the paralyzing sensations of bliss. Indeed, this was the power of his Sun. None other than his lord, [Y/N].
A power he both feared and adored.
“The oracle has spoken. Due to the Queen Dowager’s unfortunate passing, the coronation shall take place soon.”
He couldn’t help but gasp as [Y/N] stood. Their full height at their age was far lesser than his, yet it was never a comfort. “How soon?”
“He said it – it would best be held next year . . . my Sun.”
Silence befell them.
Without a thought, the man kneeled. It did not matter how old or frail his body was, as soon as the warm emotions left him he knew he had offended their holy being.
“Do you have a family?”
“My Sun, p-please. You have to reconsider . . . ! “
Their frown indicated that he gave the wrong answer.
“I do not, my Sun . . . “ He bowed. His face was practically one with the floor.
“How mundane. In here I thought I’d get a show for this evening.”
He stands up in one quick motions. The crack of bones breaking and rearranging was arduous in itself to hear.
“MY SUN! MY HOLY LIGH—“
“You see, ever since that old hag died I realized — there’s no one alive that’s able to stop me from doing what I want anymore.”
“With a coronation or without. I am your god.”
“Through you, everyone will be informed. You get to die in service of a new dawn. Where would you find a better honor than this?”
The worst thing about the man’s last breath was that as agonizingly torturous his god’s rays of light were on him — he did not feel an ounce of anger or resentment.
Only unfettered, immaculate happiness.
WHOSE VENERABLE SIDES THE MOSS DOTH LINE.
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mariettebonneville · 5 months
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─𝟎𝟔 【𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬】 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐢
In the chaotic aftermath of a fierce battle, the vibrant strands of Mitsuri’s pink hair fluttered like petals in the wind, her breathing heavy as she stood over the defeated demon.
Her sword, still gleaming with the remnants of her Love Breathing technique, slowly reverted to its sheath as she closed her eyes to calm her racing heart.
But victory's quiet was short-lived. In a moment of unsettling calm, two shoji doors appeared beneath her, before opening and giving her no time to comprehend the situation.
Mitsuri's eyes widened just before the world blurred as she fell—the next thing she knew, the smell of iron and blood was replaced by the pungent scent of exhaust and the distant hum of city life.
Mitsuri's feet stumbled upon the hard concrete as she found herself in the midst of Tokyo's roaring streets, the tall figures of skyscrapers casting elongated shadows over her.
Neon lights assaulted her senses, strange metal carriages thundered by, and the sea of people moved with an unfamiliar rhythm. Her heart raced, and her grip tightened around her sword's hilt.
Her heart raced for different reasons now—confusion, fear, the overwhelming sensation of being utterly lost. Instinctively, she reached for her sword, grasping its handle for the comfort of familiarity.
That's when she saw them—figures that others seemed not to see, twisted and vile, roaming amongst the crowd.
Demons?
But how could the other people ignore them and how were they able to overcome the sun weakness? She wanted to pull out her sword and fight through her exhaustion but with hundreds of unsuspecting civilians wandering the streets, she couldn't take the risk.
Unknowingly to Mitsuri, those creatures were not demons but mere Curses and her being devoid of any curse energy, Mitsuri should've been as oblivious as the rest of the crowd.
In her bewildered state, Mitsuri began darting through the mass of people, trying to put distance between herself and the phantoms only she seemed aware of.
That's when fate intervened.
Her shoulder slammed against a figure in a sharp set of dark clothes with gravity-defying silver hair—an unmistakable presence she had never encountered before.
It was on these bewildering streets that her path collided with Satoru Gojo, the most powerful Jujutsu sorcerer of his time.
Unbeknownst to her, it was an unusual day for Gojo as well; a day when someone ran past him, unaffected by the infinity that separated him from the rest of the world, a technique unavailable to the physical realm.
Gojo Satoru stood where she had just rushed past, surprised that for once, his Infinity hadn't stopped someone in their tracks.
Curiosity piqued, Gojo turned to look at the woman with the bright eyes and hair the color of spring blossoms. The threads of destiny began to intertwine as he watched her retreat into the crowd, an irresistible enigma that had bypassed his impenetrable barrier. But how?
He followed silently, blending with shadows and light as only Gojo could, his sky-blue eyes never losing sight of the pink-haired enigma.
Finally, in a quieter alley, he stepped out before her, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to her vigilance. "Running from something?" Gojo's voice was smooth, a smirk playing at his lips.
Mitsuri, poised to react, noticed no malice in this man, yet the power he emanated struck her down to her core. Speaking softly, Mitsuri said, “I’m... I’m just lost.”
Confusion, usually an alien sentiment to Gojo, seemed to visit him quite frequently since her arrival. That a being without curse energy could perceive Curses and, more importantly, evade his Infinity, was a paradox that delighted him.
"Then let me be your guide. Where were you heading" he said, extending a hand with a gesture that blurred the line between a gesture of aid and the beginning of a claim.
She saw steadiness in his hand, the promise of answers. And in that moment, two fighters from separate worlds decided to trust in the unseen chords that had drawn them together.
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derpy-dogs-n-cats · 2 years
Text
Donor 1.5.
Main Masterlist
JJK Masterlist
Part 1
Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, creepy themes, pregnancy, vomit, talks of infant death.
Summary: The events of the pregnancy set along the middle of the first part.
W/C: 2.4k+
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2.5 Weeks.
Gojo slowly stirs awake, his eyes instinctively opening to be met with the blindfold placed over them, having him pushing the side off of one of his eyes to make sure of his whereabouts. He’s at his apartment, on the couch of the living room of his penthouse with the large glass wall before him informing him of the early hours of the morning given the barely visible spew of sunlight over the horizon.
He remembers having gotten back home late, sitting with you on the couch and insisting that he ‘wasn’t that tired’ before ending up asleep on the couch. He groggily starts to wonder why he was woken up and quickly receives an answer to his question upon the sounds of retching coming from behind him to his left; the direction of your room. Gojo quickly stands up and rushes in, barging through your room and taking his blindfold off in the process before slamming open the door to your bathroom.
“Get out!” You try your best to shout, embarrassed at being seen spilling your guts out in the toilet. “Leave!” You shout once again, throwing a random object at the door to close it right before you continue expelling your dinner while Gojo keeps staring through the door in astonishment. You’re throwing up. You’re pregnant. You have to be, what other explanation is there? He did it. He impregnated you. Him.
It hurts him that you’re in pain, so much, but he’s never been so happy about your misfortune, or happy at all. You’re actually pregnant, and he can’t do anything but smile maniacally as he continues to watch you throwing up down to the last bit of food and stomach acid you had. You finally step out of the bathroom after having brushed your teeth and rush into Gojo’s arms to which his eyes widen open even further, lips parted in surprise as he slowly processes what’s happening.
His arms slowly move to wrap around you and hold you tightly, wanting to never let you go. He can’t believe you’re actually hugging him. It’s been so long since you actually hugged him. The last time you hugged him was before his incessant flirting grew too much for you, before you’d had enough of him continuously asking you out, hugging you, touching, it was before you finally put a stop to his displays of affection.
This has to be it, you have to be pregnant, and pregnancy is getting you hormonal and screwing with your emotions. If he had known that getting you pregnant would finally make you pliant, he would’ve knocked you up ages ago. “What’s wrong?” He innocently asks, pulling back enough to look at your watery eyes. “I want to be pregnant.” You sob. “You’re not?” He asks with confusion, not understanding what’s going on.
“I don’t know! I don’t want to take the test and see it say I’m not, I want to be pregnant.” You cry, your words only assuring him that you are pregnant, why else would you make a big fuss about something so simple? “Don’t worry, how about I run to the store to get you a few test? How does that sound?” He asks in a reassuring tone. “No! I’m supposed to wait until my period’s late.” You complain, tears starting to leave your eyes.
“Don’t worry,” He repeats himself. “Come on, just wait for me here, I’ll be back soon.” He directs you to the spot where he previously was at the living room before rushing to the nearest store for pregnancy tests.
2 Months.
Your eyelids finally start giving out on you and start closing, ready to succumb to the overwhelming exhaustion your body’s been put through only to be jolted awake once again and being forced to sit back up and plant your feet on the floor, coughing harshly into the empty trash can while retching only for nothing to come out, instead feeling the clenching pain of the muscles in your back desperately trying to squeeze something out.
There’s immediately a pair of hands on you, one making sure your hair’s out of the way and the other trying to rub soothing circles at the side of your upper back, where your back muscles ache the most. Your body finally gives up and you slump back in the pile of pillows against the wall, the back of your head hurting from constantly resting it on the once soft pillows which now feel as hard as stone.
With your hands resting on your sensitive stomach, you close your eyes in frustration with tears starting to leave trails down your cheeks for Gojo to quickly wipe them off. You sniffle and weakly open your eyes, struggling to lift one of your frail arms to hold his hand in yours to show your appreciation. “It hurts.” You quietly cry. “I know.” He sadly stares at you, looking down to your stomach and hoping your pain ends soon.
Ever since upon entering your third week into pregnancy, you’ve been vomiting almost every day. It wasn’t too serious then, you still managed to keep some food and water down for part of the day but now, you’ve been sick for almost half a week, unable to keep even liquids down and with the doctor constantly coming to your shared apartment to test out different medicines, none of which seemed to suit you yet. “… I didn’t think it’d hurt this much.” Your weak hand rubs your belly.
“…” Gojo stays quiet, not knowing how to console you while keeping his head down, finding it hard to watch how your body slowly deteriorates, dehydration really sinking in and taking it’s toll on your body. You haven’t gone to the bathroom in a whole day, your body never letting anything past your intestines, and every time Gojo tries to get you to walk to uncramp your body, you often get light headed and dizzy to the point that he always has to keep his hands on you.
“Wait here.” He gives you a soft sad smile, letting go of your hand and leaving the room, his room. Soon after the incessant throwing up, he insisted that you move into his room so he could ‘take care’ of you, and in your sensitive state, you agreed. Not long after, he finally comes back with his hands behind his back, shutting the door with his foot and careful to not let you see behind him. He sits in front of you once again and reveals a small present box beautifully decorated.
“What’s this?” You ask. “I was waiting to celebrate the start of your next trimester, but… here.” He hands you the box, waiting patiently for you to slowly pull it open. “It’s a doppler. For the baby’s heart rate.” He explains, having you instantly growing more emotional. You take your time taking out the tube of gel in the box and gently applying some on the end of the probe before turning on the device and starting to rub it along your lower stomach.
You turn the volume higher with a sniffle and hear some type of static as you move the probe around, trying to find your unborn baby. Once you reach a certain spot of your belly, the screen picks something up and displays the heart rate with the speaker playing the sound of the heartbeat. You immediately let out a cry with your free hand cupping your mouth, crying into it at the quick-paced sound of your baby’s heart.
8 Months.
You pull at the zipper and unzip the small luggage case and start putting in clothes, toiletries and other stuff you’ll need when you finally go into labor. You’d just come back from baby and pregnancy stores with Gojo and while you started packing, he was taking an awfully long time to ready the baby car seat. While you had already gotten some clothes to fit your pregnant belly along your pregnancy, and most of the stuff that you would need, he thought otherwise.
Gojo insisted that you’d get everything new, as if the baby clothes gifted to you were used, and managed to convince you by talking about his copious amounts of money and how they’re just sitting there. You pull out of the next bag a small swaddling blanket and look at it longingly, observing the white gender-neutral color with fluffy round bear ears at the top with a pink center in them.
You thought it’d be more exciting if you didn’t know the gender until the birth, but Gojo being a drama queen said that he couldn’t handle the suspense and still to this day insists on knowing the gender. You neatly fold the blanket and place it in the also brand new luggage case and next pull out a regular baby blanket with ducks on, continuing to pack until Gojo walks in your still shared room.
“Baby seat’s ready.” He notifies. “Are you sure?” You teasingly ask without looking over at him, continuing to pack the last of your items. “I think you’d be surprised by how well I placed it.” He smiles triumphantly while walking over to stand next to you. “Sure.” You lightly roll your eyes, zipping closed the case and having decided to double-check the seat before placing your baby in. As soon as you go to stand, he’s quick to help you up, offering both of his hands and gently pulling you to your feet given the extra weight.
“Thank you.” You thank him in a soft voice, smiling to your stomach as you take a seat on the edge of the bed with him sitting as well next to you. “… What’s going on in that head of yours?” He brushes your hair out of your face, something that you don’t think too much of due to being entrances in your unborn baby. “In just another month… I’m gonna be a mom.” You rub your belly.
10 Months.
You cry against Gojo’s chest with your hands gripping his shirt tightly, his arms wrapped around you in hopes that the warmth of his embrace can ease you if even just a bit. Your enormous stomach standing in the way of him being able to properly hug you only serves as a reminder of your worries, making you cry even harder. 10 months pregnant and nothing. Your baby just isn’t ready to come out yet and you’ve already tried everything, or everything you could.
You’ve exercised proper workouts for pregnant women, tried acupuncture, spicy foods, tried stimulating your own breasts which were far too sensitive to get anything but pain out of them, and still nothing. You know that stressing about it won’t help, but what else can you do? You can only handle so much, how else are you supposed to feel when so many complications can start arising; lack of oxygen, an infection, what else can you do?
“They’re doing it first thing in the morning.” Gojo brings up your scheduled cesarean in attempt to console you. You sniffle against his shirt and hold onto him tightly, trying to calm yourself with a few harsh coughs making it difficult. “Let me make you some tea.” He pulls away from the hug with a light frown, taking your hand and leading your waddling form from your bedroom to the kitchen.
Gojo, same as you, has been upset ever since your pregnancy started lasting longer, being just as worried for both of you. It’s been hard on him too, watching you try to somehow stay calm while knowing your baby could have stillbirth, a medical term that could never ease the blow of your baby’s possible death. You stand quietly as Gojo makes your tea, an unbearable silence surrounding you both with neither of you being able to look at each other.
“… Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.” He makes a poor attempt to console you with a hand brushing your hair away, being as upset as you are. “I’ve tried everything, everything I can, and nothing.” You sob with your eyes glued to the floor, your vision blurring from tears. He brings you in once again for a hug and holds you tightly, not wanting to let go as you continue to soak his shirt even further with your tears, feeling inconsolable.
You both stand together for a few minutes, the tea long forgotten and only starting to pull back when your arms feel tired, your arms lowering but still keeping your bodies pressed against each other. You feel him press his lips softly on your forehead and then lean his head into yours, holding you and hoping to make you feel better. “I’m sorry.” He quietly says, feeling himself starting to shed tears as well.
Opening your eyes to look at him, you see him already looking at you and take notice of his tears and slightly shaky figure, the sight making your heart ache even more. You reach up to his face and hold it in your trembling hands, wiping away the tears and looking at him with sorrow. He tries to narrow the space left between your faces with his nose gently bumping into yours to which your instinctively flinch yourself back, his hands on your body preventing you from putting space between you.
With your arms still on him, body pressed on his, and with the way you don’t push him away, he waits a few seconds to take in your unsure form, giving you time to move away if you wanted to, but when you don’t, he moves in closer. He notices how you slowly lean away from him but stop at a certain point to which he more than takes as an invitation, rather than noticing you can’t lean away any further.
You flinch when his lips touch yours, not yet kissing, but instead brushing together as if to test the waters, and when you don’t say anything to stop him, he moves to close the last gap between you… only for you to pull away with a harsh gasp. Gojo feels something inside him start to crack, his blood boiling and feeling like slapping you, but his thoughts are immediately shut down when he hears the sound of water splashing on the floor.
He freezes in place stiffly and does a slow scan of you, your hand clasped over your mouth, eyes wide staring between your feet, the dark damp spot on the cloth covering your lower region, and finally, the small puddle soaking your feet.
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sweetielilie · 3 months
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MASTERLIST ^_^
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Reminder! More will be put as I post more of my yan! headcanons and fics!
JUJUTSU KAISEN
Satoru Gojo
Suguru Geto
Nanami Kento
YANDERE CHARACTERS
Yan!Gamer
Yan!Patron
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appleblueberry-pie · 9 days
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YOU ARE EVERYTHING.
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Where: You were Satoru's young caretaker when he was a child being raised by the clan. You became everything he ever wanted, and when he needed you most, you were taken away by the people that made him who he is. He takes it to heart and sought out for you when he becomes an independent adult. (7 year age gap)
With you, he was nothing. With you, he wasn't a weapon. A gun with it's only purpose being to fire when it's trigger when it was pulled. With you, he wasn't a clan member, riches covering every inch of his floors and face. He wasn't the fear forced into those he faced, whether he liked it or not. He wasn't the balance of the planet he lived on. With you, he wasn't secretly scared. He wasn't silent. He wasn't silenced. He wasn't numb. He wasn't a thing. He wasn't an it. He was simply nothing. And being nothing with you made him become everything he could've ever hoped for.
He was a child, but he wasn't treated like one. And being his caretaker in such an....intimidating "home" made you sad for him. He was a blank canvas. He could've been rude to you. He could've spoken your ear off, threw things at you, berated you, cried, hid, smiled, anything. But he seemed so empty, alone, even though he was everything nature could've made him.
He was tired. You knew he was. A child shouldn't look at you the way he did when he first met you. So, in return, you gave him everything he deserved in hopes he'd realize that the way things are for him isn't how it is for everyone. And that he deserves a chance as well. At life, at living, loving, knowing and learning. So you cared.
I mean, it was your job to do it. It's in the name damnit. But that's not what they wanted you to do. You were just his baby sitter. Watch him for 5 hours a day, and they'll train him for 11 and then he sleeps for the rest. But with those 5 hours, you knew it could be more than just sitting around in his room or garden all day. So you attempted to incorporate some fun in every once and a while to try and get him to warm up to you.
You believe he was too used to people being there just to check on his well being; if he was living and breathing. So you gave some conversation crumbs. "Are you alright?", "Do you feel okay?" and the most difficult one, "How do you feel?" He would be a little taken aback by this last question(his face was still, but he would hesitate to answer). But he would answer, nonetheless. It felt like great progress knowing that he wouldn't flat-out ignore you. This was a great first step, in your opinion. And from there, you would continue talking to him.
Asking him how his day was during his lunch time. Offering to walk him around his place of living if he was bored of staying in his room. Asking if he wanted to wear something more comfortable if his traditional clothes bothered him too much. Making(one-sided) conversation while you cleaned his room. You would talk, but eventually, you would see him watching you talk as you cleaned.
About a few weeks later, he would finally warm up to talk back to you. Asking you questions about your little stories you'd tell him about your personal life. What would be provided during lunch that day, what he'd do once his break was over, asking how the weather would be. He'd also make requests that weren't the usual. Which includes the business his family would deal with that he's not usually provided with, if he could go with you while you did laundry across the hall, if he could stay with you during your break time, and....if you could help him with his assigned homework. He began to ask you to stick around while he did mundane tasks, and you realized how much of an impact you've made on his life just by being around and asking him to be present while you were there.
It took a month for him to become attached to you. You warned him multiple times that he shouldn't be so close to the women that are supposed to help around the house, and only help around the house. He didn't care and just wanted to stay by your side 24/7 when he realized how sweet affection could be, especially from someone as pretty and kind as you. You often snuck him little sweets from the kitchen, helped him read his favorite books, and you let him clean his room with you so that you two could spend more time together. You could tell he would always look forward to spending time with you and would nearly complain to his family when he had to go. Those 5 hours became less of a mindless bore and more of a mental exploration of what love and care truly is.
You were promoted to one of the head-maids in the house when his family realized how much easier it was to manage him when you were there to do it instead of the other women. He would comply so much more easier and obviously had a brighter look on his face when you came around to solve things that he was making hard for everyone else to deal with. Now, you were there when he woke up and went to sleep. You helped with his clothes and helped serve his lunch and his dinner. You made things easier for him to bare in the house. Which was your goal. You wanted him to be happy. And happy is what he finally was.
Days flew by with you there. Nights were softer and more beautiful when you were there towards the end of his day. Food tasted better, his training was easier to do and he felt something.
Something in his chest when you were around. It felt weird, but good at the same time. You often caught him rubbing his chest when you laughed at his sassy attitude and would see his ears turn pink. You'd tease him about him being shy and would pinch his cheek, which made his ears and neck turn red, which would make you laugh harder. It was nice having a friend for once, he would think.
But maybe he shouldn't have gave in to his desires. Maybe he should've pushed you away like he did when you first started interacting with him. Maybe he should've ignored his chest when it increased its beat when you came around. Because maybe then, his family wouldn't notice how much of an impact you've had on his life. Maybe they wouldn't separate you two since you guys loved being around each other so much. Maybe he should've ignored you when you told him with a sad face that you would only be around until tomorrow to pack your things.
If only he saw the way his own face dropped when those words slipped out of your mouth. The way his face when to horror, to sadness, to that stone cold look he's had for the longest time. You wanted to caress his face to soften the hard tension that resided in his forehead and cheeks. You wanted to hug him like he let you do when he wanted to cry so badly, but wanted to be a man. Well, a man is what they made him the moment they took away the one person that mattered to him.
When you left the clan house, you took his heart with him. But his devotion always stuck deep, deep in his stomach. And it wouldn't leave. He had never felt as angry as he did when you finally were escorted by car away from the home and his father had the nerve to tell him it was "for the best". He never clenched his fists so hard. Never wanted to wipe the tears off of his face so bad. But he didn't, in case you came back and wiped them off for him. Like you always did. But they dried on his face and remained until he washed his face in his bathroom alone. Too big for an 8 year old like him, but another person's presence would've been enough for him to ignore the empty, unneeded space.
And he remained that way. Alone. For years and years to come. And his yearning for you and your special care and love has been on the back of his mind as he continue to learn and grow, and he eventually became the weapon he was meant to be. He promised himself that he would never forget you. And he never forgot. He always remembered the warmth of your hands. The aura of your cursed energy, and how it felt when it lightly tickled his skin when he sat close to your side. How calm it made him feel. He never let himself forget, in hopes that he'd find you again one day. Little did he know that his efforts to remain in touch with the memories he had left wouldn't be done for nothing.
He couldn't believe his eyes. It was too dark. Too dark to see, but it was clear as day. That hair. That skin. That nostalgic scent and that energy. He ripped his blindfold off and felt his heart ache as it beats faster. "Whatthefuck." He muttered under his breath. It was cold and it certainly couldn't be comfortable like this. How long have you been here? Why were you here? Who did this to you? Was it really you? Was he dreaming?
He was informed of a missing sorcerer that hasn't been found in the past few weeks. Someone had hid you well with high security surrounding the area. No one could get in, so they obviously brought in their best weapon, him. He got through the "security" in a matter of seconds and reached you without so much as a blink of his eye. But you?? Why you? Is this what's been going on when he's been gone? You haven't gotten the strength to protect yourself so you go missing and let some nothings kidnap you and ruin your life?
He feels anger bubble in his stomach. Surprise and happiness surge his heart. The horror and confusion makes the rest of his emotions unbearable to handle. He doesn't know what to do or say. You're blindfolded, gagged, tied up and in thin clothing. From what he can see, they haven't done much but roughed you up and neglected you of things like food and water. Everything else seemed taken care of. Were they waiting for someone to bargain you back? The thought makes him grit his teeth and he'd rather not think about it. When he begins to undo your restrictions on your wrists and ankles, you let out noises of resistance and he tries to soothe you to tell you he's there to help you.
He removes your binds, your gag, and blindfold. You couldn't even hold yourself up, so he impatiently just teleports you back to his hotel room that was provided to him by the higher-ups for this mission. You immediately grow weak in the knees from the random moment of time-splitting transportation and drop to the floor, but he catches you. "I got you, I've got you. Let's get you on the bed, okay?" You're shaking in his arms and it takes everything in him to just not bombard you with questions and throwing past information on you to get you to remember him.
All you knew was that this random man that is intimidating the shit out of you with his cursed energy transported you to a hotel room after being tied up in a dark room all fucking week. A group of religious sorcerers out of nowhere asked you to join them one day when you were minding your own business at a flower shop. You declined and the leader stepped forward and dealt with you accordingly. You put up a great fight and his little family was going to step in, but you just couldn't get to him. So, he finished you first and kept you in a random dark room for 'safe keeping'.
But who was this? What was next after being kidnapped? Was he going to hurt you? Hurt you in ways the others hadn't? You hoped that for once in all of the time you had been held captive, that you'd finally catch a break and be given the necessities you needed to survive and be happy.
You blinked your eyes open, which was hard because the light from the ceiling-to-floor windows were nearly blinding you. The man had a tight grip on your arms and he continued to ask you questions about your well being that you couldn't understand at the moment. You scramble onto the bed and finally gain the sight and courage to look up at him. When your vision finally cleared, you were immediately flooded with memories of the past when you look into those familiar, tongue-numbing eyes.
You stared up at Satoru Gojo quietly for the first time in about 19 years.
.......That's right. It had been about 19 years since you last spoke. Years since you last gave up that life of following those dumb rules and took it upon yourself to teach yourself about the things they wouldn't tell you. To be better than they claimed you were. The byproduct of the people who nearly ruined your life was standing in front of you. No wonder you didn't like his energy. He had so much cursed energy oozing out of him that it made your muscles tense in a way it hadn't before. But that look in his eyes said something else entirely.
".....?" He wanted to say something to you badly, but you looked so scared. You averted your gaze before clenching your teeth. "Where...where am I?" You pathetically croaked out the words. You hadn't had a drink of water in so long. Satoru immediately rushed to the one on his night stand and opened it for you, giving it to you. You eyed the bottle, hand hesitantly reaching out. But you took it anyways, your drive for a drink overtaking your paranoia.
Most stress in your body faded when you drank the delicious mineral water and drained it in one go. Once you finished, you heaved a sigh in relief, the empty bottle hitting the ground. "You're in my hotel room. It wasn't safe where you once were. So, I just took you here."
You don't know if the man in front of you is still the boy you grew to love. But what you did know is that for the time being, you'd have to put your trust in him. You aren't healed, and you don't want any sorcerer government of any kind to know about your possible return. You'd have to ask him for help.
Satoru was more than happy to help you in any way he could. For so long, he was searching for you. His heart nearly broke into pieces when he kept searching, kept searching, and you just wouldn't be there. Not outside his door when he woke up. Not there when he would cry himself to sleep some nights with pounding headaches. And not there when he plainly lifted his head to the sky for forgiveness. He needed you. And here you are, needing him. And that look on your face was all he needed to know that this was his chance at redemption. To rebuild what once was broken. And to eventually gather warmth from being in your arms once again.
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gojorgeous · 3 months
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"creature of myth."
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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)
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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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an-ambivalent · 11 months
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Manipulative! Gojo
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Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours  that can be uncomfortable and triggering to read. Specific warnings: implied noncon and emotional manipulation. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion. 
Okay but imagine Manupilative Yandere! Gojo who:
~is always emotionally vulnerable and open so its easier to get you to do whatever he wants. Like, after he has to kill Getou, evidently he's upset and experiencing grief. But with you, its worse. With you, he overemphasis the misery he felt to have to kill his own best friend for the greater good. He highlightes how he has no one and that he's so lonely, solely in front of you, so you would feel bad and finally go out with him. And it works. You feel absolutely heartbroken at what Gojo had to went through and cannot tolerate making it worse for him. You've already told him no so many times, would it really be that bad to just give him a chance? And so you do. But after, anytime you try to leave him, he holds this over your head. The guilt whelms you every time, and you stay.
~Manupilative Gojo who always coerces you into saying yes. He does it so gently, you just can't bring yourself to keep saying no. Particularly at night, after a long and tedious mission, if all you want to do is sleep to rest, and Gojo desires differently, what he wants goes. He will start with feathery carcasses, and light pecks. Then, one peck becomes a deeper and more wetter kiss, and a single carass becomes one too much; despite how much you may kindly request or beg him to just leave you be for a single night, Gojo doesn't relent. He'll whisper gentle "please" and push you with encouragment of "just be a good girl for me" until you cave. And there's no choice but to always cave.
~Manupilative Gojo who makes sure that whatever he has planned for your future together will be what goes. If you want the same things - great! If not, well, then you would just need to comprise. Not him, just you. And he's very clever in assuring that you don't realise this. Instead, he'll gaslight you into giving up your goals and adhering to his by saying things like "every relationship requires sacrifices my love. I've done mine, I'd like to see you make some too."
~Manupilative Gojo who always gets what he wants; he knows just what to say and do to pull on your heartstrings and give into him.

~Manupilative Gojo who is so utterly and impeccably obsessed with you. He's so desperate to keep you by his side that he'll stoop enough to emotionally blackmail you in whatever way he can so that you can never leave him.
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
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tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3
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temptacioun · 5 months
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is y!gojo the type to baby trap? or is he so self assured that his little darlings gonna stay with him forever? -🌀
Obviously they’re going to stay with me forever, good luck trying to escape me. But, I’ve been trying to get her pregnant anyways — she’s my wife after all it’s only natural she’ll give me an heir. Don’t mind her protesting, she’s just scared of being pregnant.
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