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#look at the amazing art that comes with the fic
vibratingskull · 2 days
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Well if we are doing Thrass...I humbly request: First date with Thrass! Any way you want to do it.
Thrass is on the dating market guys! Come try your chance with the sweetest chiss in the Chaos!
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beautiful art by the amazing @thrawns-backrest
Thrass xF!reader
Tag: first date, Thrawn being casually aroace (in my fic? who knew?), Thrass is kind of a goofball, fluff
You breathe through your nose, reassuring your grip on your purse straps in your hands. You raise your head lightly to observe passersby. 
Chiss... 
Haughty and regal.  
Barely giving a glance to little you, all alone lying against the street light. You fidget your thumbs, suddenly second-guessing your dress with colorful flowers... Is too much or too little? Are your heels too high? Is your stocking elegant or scandalous? Does your perfume smell good or just reek? Does your coiffure  enhance your features as you hoped or does it make you look goofy? 
It’s your first date with him, and you want to appear at your best to impress him! 
You bite the nail of your thumb, looking around for him. 
He is late. 
What if he never comes? 
What if he forgot about you? 
What if he sets you up? 
What if- 
“(Y/n)’(F/n)! There you are!” 
You spin in surprise to discover Mitth’ras’safis approaching with a tranquil pace, raising his hand to you in a greeting. He wears the traditional tunic of his rank, long, elegant, and distinguished. His long hair is impeccably braided. 
“Mister Mitth’ras’safis!” You slightly bow to him in your excitation and confusion.  
You are so relieved he is here! You press your lips in a thin line as he winces. 
“It’s Mitth’ras’safis.” He corrects, “But please, call me Thrass, it will be easier for your vocal cords.” 
 “Alright, mister... Thrass.” You nod hurriedly. 
“Just Thrass please.”  
“But you’re a Syndic of the Mitth!” 
“Today I did not come to you as a Syndic but as a simple man.” He retorts, “I am merely an ordinary Chiss.”  
You nod again, slower, feeling your cheek heating up dangerously and it worsens when you remember the Chiss can see warmth on your skin. 
“Then please, call me (Y/n).” You propose back. 
“(Y/n)...” He tries your name, his chin in his fingers, testing how your name rolls on his tongue, “It has an exotic sound to it.” 
He seems to like it. 
He tilts his head with a gentle smile. 
“Should we go?” He invites. 
You walk alongside one another in silence. You hold on desperately to your purse, trying to calm down your beating heart. You feel yourself sweating with too much tension. You give a side glance to Mitth’ra... 
Thrass. 
He seems relaxed and calm, a little smile floating on his lips as he looks straight ahead of you both. You’re clearly on two different planets! You gently press a hand against your heart. 
You never thought he would accept such rendezvous with you! You are only human after all... 
You remember your meeting with him, and how dismissive and distrusting he was. You had the misfortune to mispronounce his full name and he took it very personally! Commander Thrawn tried to mediate the situation but you kept fumbling your poor Cheuhn and Thrass finally left with a terrible first impression of you and you were utterly terrified you might have doomed any future relationships between humans and Chiss! 
When you’ve been judged civilized enough to be released in Chiss society, the Mitth family received the responsibility of “taking care” of you, because the Chiss who found and rescued you was Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo. You have been brought to the Mitth homestead and once again you crossed paths with Mitth’ras’safis and with Thrawn’s support you took the time to apologize for any wrongdoing you might have done towards him in proper Cheuhn this time. 
He kept his expression closed and neutral, politely listening to you trying hard to not mangle any words and don’t inadvertently insult anyone’s mother in this difficult language. He stopped you by raising his hand and sighed. He apologized for his harsh demeanor and bad attitude and extended his hand to you. Your gaze traveled back and forth between his hand and face, unsure before tentatively taking it and shaking it with relief.  
The Mitth’s Patriarch, Thooraki, chose a job for you, appointing you as aid to syndics of the family. 
 All of them. 
So whenever a syndic needed a file, a datacylinder, or just a cup of caccoleaf it was your job to run everywhere in the building to find it. Mitth’ras’safis didn’t deprive himself of your services and frequently asked for your help. 
He just was... nicer to you than the rest of the Syndics. 
As much because it was his personality than because you were friends with his brother, or rather you held on to Thrawn as a buoy in the open sea and he, strangely, let it happen. Commander Thrawn was the one who saved your life from the neverending dark and cold of the Universe and was, by far, the most welcoming and open-minded of all the Chiss you encountered until now.  
Thrawn was curious about you. You were the only representative of a new species, the only intel he had about this entirely new part of the Chaos and he strategically kept his relationship with you nice and polite. Desperate, you imprinted on him, asking him advice and opinions on everything and he let it happen, patiently, courteously. 
And Thrass heard about it. 
Thrawn must have come to him at the end of their respective day, telling how the weird alien human came back to him crying once again because she switched another file again today. 
Which surprised Thrass because he never saw you cry during the day. He only saw you trying your best all day long, but apparently you took the habit of calling Thrawn each evening to vent. 
Which also means somehow Thrawn gave you his personal code to call him, and that point was terribly interesting to Thrass... 
Thrawn doesn’t trust easily. 
So if he gave you a direct channel to him, he must have studied you thoroughly and judged you trustworthy enough. And whomever Thrawn trusts, Thrass is inclined to trust in return. 
It’s the point when Thrass started to look at you more and pick up your little quirks and habits, the way you click your pen when you're nervous, the way you push a strand of hair behind your ear when you’re intently listening to someone, the little “oh!” you let escape when you understand something new... 
And slowly, oh so slowly, Thrass started to relax with you. Being more patient, taking time to explain to you why he needed this file or this one when he asked you to retrieve it, while the other syndics just barked at you to find them chop chop! He saluted you when you crossed paths in the corridor and you bowed to him respectfully and, in all honestly, a little afraid. He chatted with you during caccoleaf breaks, helping you around when he found you overwhelmed while trying to sort data. 
You always apologized profusely, feeling like a dead weight as he helped you carry data-cylinders into the storage room. He politely said it was nothing and got on his way, letting you finish your tasks. 
And today, here you are! 
On your first date! Together! 
Thrass’ glance slides towards you and he gently smiles at you, making your heart race even quicker.  
“Here we are!” He finally announces. 
You stop and observe the imposing building in front of you. For the date he proposed you both come up with an activity, and you choose a play. 
He is so refined and distinguished it was the only activity worthy of him you could come up with. He let you choose the play and the theater and had the role of guiding you across Csaplar.  
The building is tall and large, with glass walls and geometrical oddities as angles. You open your purse to take out the ticket you printed, give his one to Thrass, and enter. 
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“(Y/n)’(F/n) speaks highly of you” Thrawn once said to him during one of their Tactica games, during one of his too rare days back at Csilla. 
The two brothers where sitting at their favorite bistro, a nice glass of alcohol each and a platter full of different canapes next to the board. 
“Does she now?” Thrass responded, taking a sip of alcohol, letting it burn his throat and tongue so deliciously. 
“Yes. I hear a lot about you through her.” 
“Are you telling me I do not catch up enough with you, my brother?” Thrass teased Thrawn. 
“Sometimes she cries when she speaks to me at night, but she always says you magically appear out of nowhere to help her on her feet and move on with her day.” 
“I just want the work to get down, simple as that.” He chuckled, trying to understand where Thrawn was getting at. 
Thrass took his stingfly and made it cross the board to place it next to his groundlion as Thrawn gaze was lost in the game, thinking 5 steps ahead in his strategy, making his drink twirl in his glass. Thrass contemplated his move one last time, tapped his clock to validate, and threw a tomato canape in his mouth, satisfied with his new Tactica level. 
“I suspect... She thinks about you quite a lot.” Thrawn announced with his legendary tact, attacking his flank with his lion. 
Thrass swallowed his canape the wrong way. 
“Come again?” He coughed. 
Thrawn raised his head, looking straight into his red eyes, serious like he had never before. 
“You never noticed?” 
“How would I have? My head is buried in my files and the only times I go out is for political meetings... Or to meet you.”  
“How curious.” Thrawn tilted his head, not understanding, “You are usually better than me for understanding those things.” 
“Exactly. It most probably means you misunderstood her.” Thrass patted his lips with a handkerchief in a soothing manner. 
“She expressed herself in quite explicit terms.” Thrawn insisted, peacefully sipping his drink as Thrass got more and more distraught, “She left little to interpretation.” 
“How explicit?” Thrass asked a little afraid.  
Thrawn shakes his head, sorry. 
“It is not in my rights to report her words. She should speak her truth herself.”  
Thrass sniffed, putting his handkerchief in the pocket of his tunic. 
“So what? The human as a little fling, what is it to me?” 
Thrawn tilted his head again, squinting his bright red eyes at his older brother. 
“I thought you appreciated her in return?” He let Thrass know. 
Thrass remained silent, eyes round with surprise and mouth agape. 
“What in tarnation... Where did that idea come from?” Thrass finally asked. 
“It is a general sentiment you give off. The more times pass, the more her name leaves your mouth, you also hold yourself differently when you speak about her, you appear more... relaxed.” 
By reflex Thrass corrected his position, straightening his back and raising his head high like the Syndicure theatrics teached him. 
“I do not speak of her that much.” He counters. 
“Maybe not so much, but more than before. And your tone is considerably softer, and your eyes...” 
“What about my eyes?” Thrass asked with a warning in his voice. 
“I just noticed they glow brighter when we speak about her.” Thrawn explains patiently. 
Thrass gulped, his throat was going dry. 
Thrawn is a master at reading body language. He undercovers entire secrets with a single glance, stripping souls naked before him. 
What exactly did he think he saw in Thrass? Because there is no way he was smitten with the alien! Alright she was very hard-working, diligent, and pleasant to be around, her enthusiasm was enjoyable in the tight offices of the Syndicure. Thrass was even ready to admit her little panicked gasps when she realized she lost something on her way was endearing. 
Daresay cute. 
But to go such length as to say he was into her? Utterly ridiculous! 
Thrass opened his mouth to shut down Thrawn definitively but his throat tightened around his rebuttal, stifling any words in his vocal cords, leaving his mouth simply open and completely mute. 
He cannot explicitly deny his brother’s claims! Something was preventing him from speaking the truth! 
The undeniable truth that he was, in fact, not enamored by the human woman. 
Because that is the only truth. 
Obviously... 
“Like you said, I am not good with those matters.” Thrawn continued, swallowing a cheese canape, “But I know you, my brother. I know how you act towards things you love, and how your voice fluctuates when speaking of people close to your heart. And I simply thought I saw it on you with her.” 
Thrawn was obviously trying to smooth the angles with Thrass to not offend him, but Thrass was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice how his brother was contorting his words to preserve his honor. 
Thrass pressed his hand against his mouth, taking support on his elbow on the table, his mind spinning at 100 miles per hour. 
Why can’t he just say the simple words ‘I am not in love with her’? 
Coud he be...? 
No. 
Ridiculous. 
Thrawn looked at his brother, febrile on his seat. 
“Why not go on a date with her?” He finally asked. 
Thrass raised his head to look at Thrawn, is attention piqued. 
“Why would I do that?”  
“Because you obviously have a soft spot for her. Why not give it a try?” 
“She is an alien.” 
“And you are an alien to her, it did not stop her from falling for you.” 
Thrass raised his hand to stop him. 
“I am flattered she thinks so highly of me. But she is an alien, and I am a Chiss! Those things do not happen.” 
Thrawn appeared more and more confused. 
“I do not remember any laws forbidding it?” 
“It is not about laws, Thrawn. It is about morality.” 
Thrawn looked at me the weirdest he ever did. 
“How living your love being against moral laws?” 
For a fleeting second Thrass forgot he was talking to Thrawn. Any other Chiss would agree with Thrass at that moment. 
But not Thrawn. 
Thrawn would never understand... 
“You speak of love but you know nothing about it.” As those words left Thrass's mouth he regretted them immediately. 
Thrawn seemed to close back over himself, a single line of discontentment crossing his forehead. 
“Thrawn, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Thrass immediately presented his excuses. 
Thrawn took another canape to eat, his throat’s mucles contracting under his frustration. 
“No, you are right.” He said, “This is a sentiment foreign to me. But I know when I witness it, and I witness it in you, my brother. And I would be mournful if you missed a chance to find your other half in life.” 
“You are quite a romantic I realize.” Thrass couldn’t help but grin lightly at Thrawn’s choice of words. 
“What I am trying to say is: give her a chance Thrass. You might come one day to regret not trying. You have nothing to lose in the end.”  
Thrass slowly relaxed, pondering his options. It’s true, in the end, he had nothing to lose. He will not die to spend an afternoon with (Y/n)’(F/n)... 
He could even know where he stands with her, why he couldn’t word the simple truth. 
“You seem supportive of her.” Thrass investigated. 
Thrawn shrugged. 
“I got to know her during her stay on my ship on the UAG. She is honest and with a good nature. Like you.” 
“You trust her.” 
“Indeed I do. She is not a threat to the Ascendancy and I never felt an ounce of violence or darkness emmanating from her.” 
“You know what? You are right.” Thrass let out, like transfigured. 
Thrawn stopped mid-movement of drinking, not expecting such a drastic change of attitude in such a short time. Thrass didn’t lose a second and took out his comm, typing rapidly. 
“Sent! ”  
And Thrass seized his Nightbringer on the board and took Thrawn’s lion. Thrawn remained silent, fixated on his brother, completely lost. 
“Like you I hate uncertainty.” Thrass explained, “The sooner I meet her, the sooner I will be in the picture. Are you happy?” 
Thrawn contemplated his older brother, trying to make sense of that last minute. 
“I simply thought you could be a good match.” 
“We will learn it soon enough!”  
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You exit the theater absolutely exhausted, your brain scrambled. It was a classical play, as you hoped, but consequently with classical Cheuhn. 
And you didn’t understand a single line! 
You learned the entire Wikipedia pages about it as about the theater you came in to info dump Thrass and impress him but you didn’t understood a single word. You spent the whole play typing feverishly on your questis to translate the lines in common Cheuhn while Thrass tried really, really hard not to explode laughing. But he mastered the neutral face of the politician man long ago, he simply didn’t control the trembling of the rest of his body. 
Thrass sighs, satisfied under the artificial sun of Csaplar. 
“It was a really good play” 
You sniff, sad to not have enjoyed the play as you hoped you would. 
“I am really glad you liked it.” You respond. 
“A bit too didactic to my liking, but nice nonetheless.” 
You turn your head to him, eyebrows raised in a silent question. 
“We studied this play at school, I already knew it.” 
You open your mouth in shock and suddenly your body slumps, completely demoralized. 
“I am sorry Thrass... I just thought-” 
You cannot finish your sentence that Thrass explodes laughing in the middle of the street, hands on his knees. You look at him absolutely dumbfounded by his reaction. 
“What?” 
He tries to stop laughing, to no avail. 
“I am sorry! You appeared so distraught back inside, you were trying so hard to follow the play!” He manages to say between two fits of laugh. He coughs to force it to stop, “Hum! I am sorry (Y/n), but it was really endearing seeing you try so hard.” 
You purse your lips, embarrassed. You saw him casually cover his mouth, hiding behind a relaxed position, his legs crossed and his elbow on the armchair, trying to not look in your direction to not explode in the middle of the play. 
He straightnens his back, raising back up with one hand on his stomach and a big smile on his face. 
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... It’s been a while since I laughed like that! Thank you (Y/n), it was very much needed.” 
You readjust your purse straps on your shoulder, trying to put up a front. 
“You’re welcome.” You mumble, cursing the heat spreading to your cheeks. 
He wipes the tears off his cheeks. 
“Come on! We need to take a tube car for my activity.” 
He starts to walk away from the theater in the Tube car station’s direction and you begrudgingly follow, ashamed and disgraced by his reaction, measuring how much of a fool you must be in his eyes now... 
Thrass instantly notices you’re not walking next to him and turns to you, a simple smile on his face, detailing your expression. 
“I am sorry (Y/n), I shouldn’t have laughed at your efforts.” He says softly, “I am glad you took an interest in our culture to try to take on such a classical piece. If you wish I could break it down with you later and explain its cultural significance to you.” 
You raise your head to meet his gaze. 
“You would?’  
“Of course. Come with me now...” And he gently takes your hand to guide you to the station. 
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You squirm, uncomfortable but trying your very hard to not show it. Next to you Thrass takes another sip of his tea, appearing fully at ease. 
He brought you to an entirely new neighborhood. You walked in cobbled streets for an hour after the tube car, he generously asked if he could take your high heels to make it easier for you and you daringly said no. 
You lasted 15 minutes before your heels started to poor blood and you had to stop at a pharmacy to dress you. 
“Again, I am sorry.” You said pitifully. 
Again he tried very hard not to laugh. 
“It’s all right (Y/n).” He responded with a smile threatening to stretch his lips. 
You finished the route with your shoes in hand, band-aids covering your heels. The cobblestone was warm to your skin and smooth, without asperities that could slash your feet. Thrass walked next to you, hands clasped behind his back, explaining to you the intricacies of the architectural style of that neighborhood. 
It is apparently a perfect reproduction of the “old city” of Csaplar underground full of wooden structures and buildings. 
You entered a small building to change into a kimono and enter a salon opening on an inner courtyard garden with a pound and large trees. Two rooms away you could hear traditional Chiss music, giving the place an elegant and serene atmosphere.  
You imitated Thrass, sitting on his heels in front of a woman in the same position. The tea ceremony  lasted more than two hours, in the exact same position, unmoving.  
It was difficult for you, but you held on, you embarassed yourself enough before Thrass for today. 
Once the woman finished preparing tea she rose on her knee to pour it in your cups. You both bowed down deeply to her, thanking her. She disapeared, leaving you two alone to savor your hot tea. 
You sigh deeply, trying to keep the numbing sensation of your legs in check as you sip your tea. You desperately want to unfold your legs but greet your teeth. 
“It is delicious, isn’t it?” Thrass finally asks, visibly satisfied by his tea. 
“Yes!” You nod eagerly, “It has a lot of flavor!” You try your best to not let your pain reach your tone. That’s not really a success. 
“I always loved tea ceremonies... They are peaceful and meditative.” 
“Thrawn told me that.” You smile, laying down your hands with your cup on your legs, “He told me you introduced him to proper tea art for his 29th Starday!” You reveal, too happy to find common ground with Thrass thanks to his brother. 
“Ah, he remembers this day then.” He notes with a little grin, “I never saw someone hold this position as well as him. I always left with terrible pain in my legs.” He winks at you. 
You flush and let your gaze fall on your cup to not meet his inquisitive red eyes. 
“I always thought that tea ceremonies are telltales of characters.” He tells you pensively, his eyes detailing the scenery of the garden. 
“Really?”  
“Indeed. They put your patience to the test, and require good etiquette and politeness, good taste and culture. I can tell a lot of things about someone by how they sit on their heels and wait for their tea.” 
You gulp, suddenly apprehensive. Is your attitude correct, is your demeanor polite and dignified enough for such a place? 
“You did good, do not worry.” He reassures without even looking at you. He just knew the questions gnawing at your reason. 
“Phew... I am relieved.” You sigh, letting your shoulders fall. 
“Careful, the ceremony isn’t finished yet.” He lets you know. 
You immediately straighten your back and stiffen your shoulders, on edge once again. Thrass cannot help but chuckle once again. 
“I appreciate you, (Y/n). You make me laugh, I like that.” 
You turn to him, in surprise but full of hope. 
“Really?” You cannot contain your enthusiasm. 
He nods peacefully, taking another sip, slowly savoring his drink.  
“Yes. You work hard and are mindful of people around you, you're driven by your will to learn... Those are really important qualities, and I appreciate them in my entourage.” 
You purse your lips for a split second. 
“Would you not like me if I failed at the ceremony?” 
“I never dated someone who failed at the ceremony.” He reveals, “I discovered that I am incompatible with such characters.” 
You nod slowly, feeling like you almost fucked up! 
“And your brother likes me!” You add, trying to smooth your portrait even more. 
Thrass puts his cup down, laying his hands on his legs. 
“Yes. That is another good point in your favor.” He concedes, “Thrawn is another excellent judge of persona, and he deemed you trustworthy wich is why I accepted the idea of this date with you.” 
Thrawn played matchmaker? 
Did he... 
You flush terribly, wich doesn’t escape Thrass. 
“Is something wrong?” He worries. 
“Did he... Did he reveal to you what I told him about you?” You ask, barely able to look in his direction. 
“No, he did not.” He reassures you, “He told me it wasn’t in his right to do so and that he should let you express yourself.” 
You sigh, relieved. 
“Do you wish to speak to me about it?” 
You start but calm down. 
“No... I am not yet ready to reveal it.” You admit. 
It is too soon for your heart to admit your love to Thrass, you would go into cardiac arrest! 
“It is quite all right. We will have plenty of other times together for you to tell me...” He smiled softly. 
Full of promises. 
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@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037
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captainneverever · 5 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel 616, Marvel Adventures: Avengers, The Witness (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Virtual Reality, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, First Time, Vacation, Puzzles, Mutual Pining, trapped in a resort, Boredom Summary:
After being pushed through a portal in an AIM firefight, Steve and Tony find themselves trapped in a luxury resort. They suspect malevolent forces have captured them. But in the meantime, they have to solve puzzles on an island. And Tony keeps making spa appointments. Steve doesn't know what to do with himself and 'relax' is a foreign word to him. Then Tony starts to spend all his time with Steve. Can Steve figure why they are there, how to solve the puzzles, and what to do with his long-time crush on Tony?
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petorahs · 1 year
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shuake rite of passage is like. spending most of the entire game going 😐🤨🤔😳 at their banter/flirting/dates. being intrigued when the normally silent protagonist exclaims a heated "this isn't 'trivial'!" about his one and only rival's life, completely independent of player input. accepting the undeniable fact that 'our light' is basically a love song from protag's point of view to said rival. finding out about proof of justice ova. watching proof of justice ova. watching proof of justice ova again. going insane at the fact that the normally silent protag who never cries, cried over their rival in public. the fact that he was thinking about him before bed. realizing the one active, 'selfish' choice and wish protag had always involved his fated rival in some way, again completely independent from player's views on said rival.
and then becoming lucid for one second and finding out you just dug yourself into a shuake rabbit hole and theres no getting out
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shaykai · 1 year
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You ever read a fic that’s just ✨✨✨✨✨✨perfect✨✨✨✨✨✨
Tags are a rambly mess but go read For The Forgotten Ones n o w
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heymrspatel · 2 years
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I’m really disappointed, I thought you were going to participate in Kinktober. Kind of let down not going to lie.
......well shit, i'm sorry?
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gojorgeous · 4 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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verstarppen · 5 months
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hear me out….. okay reader is famous and meeting fans,, a fan is wearing a top with like charles or max or whoever’s face on it and reader spots it and is like “…who is that😮‍💨” and the fans tell her and shes like “please show me their instagram” and then she follows whoever the guy you choose on ig,,, but one of the fans was recording the whole interaction qnd the video goes viral as well as a screenshot of readers ig following their account <3333 you can ignore i just thought this would be a good giggle type fic and your fics are my fav for giggling <33333
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summary; your comic book signing takes a turn when a fan walks in wearing a t-shirt with a poorly photoshopped "charles lechair" or wheover that is
pairing; charles leclerc x fem! comic book artist! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; this is for my charlie girlies i see your comments ladies and they make me smile im lurking and im stalking when you least expect it; all art used in this is by my lord and saviour dan mora if i could eat his artsyle i would
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liked by charles_leclerc and 430,010 others
ynlantern thank you everyone who stopped by for a print or a sticker @ comic_con ! and if you haven't, i'm here for the next 2 days
view all 100,333 comments
orangleclerc HE'S IN THE LIKES Y'ALL
kirbyvettel can someone pls explain what's going on orangleclerc I'll DM you the video baconforza HEY I WANT TO KNOW TOO lionkingseb ffs please someone explain
egggrosjean I've never cared about anything superhero related but this whole situation made me look into your work, and I have to say it's amazing!!! Keep up the good work
roboclaren HE FOLLOWED HER BACK LMAO
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, ynlantern and 5,331,254 others
pierregasly He's great with kids and dogs
view all 1,699,314 comments
monte_carlos_55 STOP EMBARASSING HIM
verstoppen "My crush is coming act cool" My friends:
charles_leclerc What did I say
pierregasly I'm doing free promotion charles_leclerc You're talking a lot of shit for someone within bitch slap distance pierregasly Delete this, you're ruining my marketing strategy
scuderiaferrari It's true! He's actually a driver, strategist and team principal!
ynlantern isn't half of that your job? scuderiaferrari @ charles_leclerc Nevermind, we don't like her. charles_leclerc 😐
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,200,100 others
ynlantern i heard he solved world hunger or something
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vertiddieenjoyer WAR IS OVER
ceruleanwilliams historians in 2294 trying to figure out what charles leclerc actually did and what the internet said he did to get him a date: 😰
pierregasly No need to thank me
honeyvettel the real main character
arthur_leclerc You did it. You crazy son of a bitch you did it.
charles_leclerc No swearing under her posts, please arthur_leclerc Yes, mom.
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liked by ynlantern, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 2,474,551 others
charles_leclerc Round 2 :)
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scuderiaferrari That was fast
carlossainz55 Unlike our pitstops scuderiaferrari You're getting distracted charles_leclerc Wish I could get distracted out of SF-23
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
blog taglist: @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr  (it's been a week and im already crying screaming throwing up without f1 help me)
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emilicious0 · 3 months
Note
Oooh, I got a request!
Can I get a Lucifer X reader headcanons or fic where reader is like fascinated with his wings? Bc let's be honest, it angels were real, I definitely would be fascinated with their wings and he got three pairs of them!
lucifer x gn! reader
pt.2 !!!
after rebuilding the hotel, charlie's dad, lucifer himself, decided to stay with his daughter. done with living alone for so long, he started to create a bond with all of the residents (except alastor). with you, however, he finally found a true friend.
your friendship began when he visited the hotel before the battle, and charlie introduced you as one of the sinners looking for redemption. you were one of the first ones to ever believe in charlie's idea, and seeing how you supported her made him respect you. after the battle with the extermination army, he saw you protecting his daughter, which led to you two officially becoming friends.
of course, there is more to your friendship than just love for charlotte. you shared many similar interests. you were always interested in art and all of its aspects, which lucifer gladly discussed with you (he was amazed by different kind of art aspects that humans created). also, you happened to be a good listener, so the king of hell used you as his personal problem dump (not that you minded).
you were surprised by how well you two got along but weren't complaining about this newfound relationship whatsoever. lucifer was kind, protective, and someone to trust.
this evening was surprisingly peaceful by hell standards, and you decided to spend your time on the balcony, reading. you don't get many chances to do that peacefully in a place like this, so you were making the most of it.
while sitting there, you heard the flapping of wings, which made you tense up for a second, only to hear a familiar voice:
“well, look who it is!”
you looked up and couldn't hide the fascination forming on your face. lucifer landed on your balcony with three pairs of his beautiful wings behind his back.
when he landed, he did not hide them, noticing your shocked expression. you stared at him, which made the man blush a little. he loved it when you gave all your attention to him.
“y/n?” he asked, and you snapped out of your shocked state.
“can I touch your wings?”
you slammed your hands over your mouth, embarrassed and worried that this question was too rude.
lucifer got more flustered but smiled rather shyly and came closer to you.
with a low whisper, he said: “you can.”
you stood up and carefully put your hand on his shoulder, then on his right top wing. lucifer gasped quietly but stood still.
meanwhile, your hand moved across the wing, then lower to the second one. you carefully touched his feathers, shocked by the softness.
the man was melting at the feeling of your touch, loving how your fingers brushed his wings. he never really wanted that moment to end.
for this one moment, you both looked into each other's eyes, and sparks flew between you.
both of you wanted to say something, but words stuck in your tongue. you felt lucifer's hand on your waist and sensed your cheeks warming up.
your hands moved to his shoulders, and you both came closer to each other, somehow enchanted by one another.
“dad!” charlie's voice came from behind you, and you jumped away from each other. “there you are! I need your help! y/n, come with us too!”
“y-yeah, char, coming!” you said and followed the princess, but stopped to look at lucifer. “you coming?”
he, red in the cheeks, nodded and slowly followed both of you.
today, you two realized your feelings.
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complete-clownery · 4 months
Text
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Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)
So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk
So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it
Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---
Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it
Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad
So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens
Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is
We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac
Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))
so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol
Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)
Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.
I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)
And that all ((((hollly mother))))
If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏
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moon7jay · 4 months
Note
Can u make a jake or( whatever member u want)make up sex ? If not it's okay! 💗🐣
Ofc I can bb 🫶actually was already working on a hurt comfort fic before you requested it
love on you (s.jy)
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Idol!jake x artist!reader
Warnings : angst ,hurt-comfort, smut, fluff, reader is insecure
Wc : 4.5k
"Man you didn't tell us y/n won an award wtf" jay's words sounded like static to jake's ears
"What? " He questioned through his hoarse voice, his head throbbing because of the constant state of moving his body had been in for the past few days. He doesn't remember when he last slept for more than 4 hours
"She just posted it on her story, check it out if you even care bro" jay scoffed and left the room, his voice condescending and accusing.
jake's brows furrowed while he automatically reached for his phone
"What do you mean if I even care? " he muttered to himself, feeling anger rise up in his chest at jay's tone.
His thumb swiped at your profile and clicked on your story, all anger leaving his body when he saw your figure holding the golden trophy while standing in front of the mirror, your face hidden from the flashlight of your phone.
His heart sank to his stomach and dread filled up his chest when he realised the gravity of the situation
"fuck" He muttered and rubbed his temples, heart running a mile per minute. What had he done.
He quickly clicked on his notifs and saw a couple of messages from you dated yesterday
"Shit baby I'm so sorry" he muttered, the throbbing in his chest reaching fever pitch, an ugly feeling rearing it's head in his chest when he finally read your messages
[Mine🤍]
[5:40 pm] I'm wearing the blue dress that you love so much tonight :), tell me how I look
[5:40 pm] (photo attachment)
jake clicked on the picture and he wanted to cry. You looked like a fucking goddess. God you were beautiful, you were so beautiful he was questioning how you were real.... how you were his
[6:30 pm] I'm feeling nervous, can't wait for you to be here, I just need to hold your hand for a bit, only for a bit I promise :(
[7:21 pm] you aren't coming are you
[3:30 am] (audio message)
jake's heart felt like it was tearing apart in two, he had fucked up so bad and he didn't think there was anything he could do to make this right.
There were missed calls from you after that last message and finally an audio message that sat staring at jake ominously
He rubbed his palm over his face and finally pressed play with trembling fingers
"Hi babyy i miss you- you slurred, your voice was shaky and he could tell that you were drunk when you recorded this message ,intoxication dripped from your tone
"Where even are you? Busy? Did you at least eat today baby?" he didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve your concern or love, he didn't fucking deserve you
"I hope you did- there was a pause - I haven't eaten- your voice sounded solemn all of a sudden, as if you were deep in your thoughts now, ur voice was hoarse like you had been crying
"Don't feel like eating ...... I waited for you- a sharp inhale, shit, you were crying. jake felt his own eyes dampen at hearing your first sniffle, he hated when you cried. He hated that he was the reason why.
"I feel stupid now" You whispered and then laughed condescendingly
"I mean, it's not like it was an important award anyway... just a stupid art exhibition. It's not like my art is that good anyway, I'm honestly questioning if they gave me that award cuz they needed a female in the merit list"
Wrong. You were amazing. And if anyone deserved that award it was you.
But jake didn't remember the last time he had told you that.
another sniffle
"You have more important stuff to do and i get that. And i told myself I won't cry today but here I am- you giggled through your sobs- I look so stupid right now, I bet I sound even more stupid everytime I annoy you with my stupid fucking feelings"
No you don't, he loves you, you are his everything, he wanted to say
"But I'm trying to change i promise.... I haven't been keeping track of our anniversaries anymore since the last time you told me it was childish and you had better things to do with your time"
jake closed his eyes and let a single tear fall down his cheek, god he regretted it everyday, he regretted opening his stupid mouth and talking to you that way every damn day. He had wished you would forget about it after he apologized to you but of course you haven't. That kind of hurt cannot be forgotten so easily
"It hurts but i manage... it's hard to manage tonight, I don't know why.... maybe because I can't stop expecting things to change, hoping that one day I would wake up and I'll be your priority again " You were full on hiccuping through sobs now
"God I'm so stupid and I wore this stupid fucking dress cuz I felt beautiful... not anymore tho, I don't feel beautiful when you aren't there to tell me I am..... you just matter so much to me and it kills me that I won't ever matter even half as much to you"
jake cursed and threw his phone aside while you still talked, holding his head in both hands, jake let himself cry
He let himself cry for all the times he'd hurt your self esteem so much it made you want to change, he cried for all the times he watched your smile fall cuz he couldn't be there for the stuff you wanted to do
He let himself cry for making you feel like you were less of a person just because you got excited over small things and little gestures mattered to you
He cried because he had been hurting the one person who made his life worth living, so much to the point that you had started to make yourself smaller. He had made you shrink.
"You are my first and last everything jake.. and i know you are an important person and have to hide it from the world that you have a girlfriend but i just feel like... Maybe in an effort to make everyone else believe that i don't exist, you started to believe it too.... and i don't even blame you. I've always been forgettable"
His phone dinged to signal the message had ended so he pressed play again. And again. And again. He doesn't remember how long he sat there listening to your sobs and heart wrenching pain. The pain that he had caused.
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jake hadn't felt this kind of fear ever before. Not even when he had moved to a foreign country alone. He was losing his mind, dark circles under his eyes as he sat outside your apartment door. You weren't here, he knew that, he'd been coming to see you everyday but no sign of you. A locked door. That's all he was greeted with for the past 1 week.
Your phone was switched off, no calls or messages, no way of knowing how you were doing and where you were. Had you really left him for good this time? Would he never be able to hold you in his arms again? Hear your giggles and taste your sweet kisses? Was this your goodbye?
That was the thought that had him breaking down completely in his car in the middle of nowhere as he drove around looking for you aimlessly.
just once, he needed to see u once.
He wiped his tears and dialed jay's number
"I need you to do me a favor"
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You missed him. You missed him so much it hurt. Were you being too harsh on him? You weren't doing it on purpose, you just didn't feel like you were capable of facing him right now, too embarrassed and feeling exposed after you sent that stupid voice note. A drunk mistake.
What if he broke up with you? What if he hated you now ?
You sobbed into your pillows in your childhood bedroom, crying yourself to sleep, imagining his arms around you, shushing you softly, telling you he loved you
God you don't even remember the last time he told you he loved you.
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His knees buckled when his eyes fell on you. There you were, so fucking beautiful, so fucking tempting he had to physically stop himself from running to you and taking you in his arms. You weren't smiling and that's what made his heart clench. As long as he'd known you, you were always smiling, you were his personal little cheerleader.
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"Y/n look who's here to meet you" your mother's voice made you jolt, almost dropping the antique case that you were cleaning.
And you almost dropped it again when your questioning eyes met his dark ones. Your heart started beating unbearably fast, your palms sweaty as you placed the case back on the counter with shaky hands
"you didn't tell me you had friends back in the city y/n! And such a handsome one at that- your mother cooed, wiggling her eyebrows at jake whose ears turned red - anyways, you kids talk while I bring you guys snacks" your mother said and disappeared around the corner, leaving you and the reason of your escape from the city alone. You stood there fidgeting with your fingers, the silence sitting heavy on you while you made it a point to look nowhere else except your feet.
After a few foreboding seconds which felt like hours you saw his shoes come into your line of vision, moving closer to your feet
Your hands gripped onto your skirt harshly when you felt his big hands cup both of your cheeks and move your face up to look into his eyes. His face inches from yours.
"Baby.. " he whispered and that's all you had to hear before breaking down, your vision becoming blurry and harsh sobs escaping your lungs
"God I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry sweetheart I'm so fucking sorry" His voice cooed, thumbs swiping at your cheeks to wipe your tears, kissing your cheeks and eyes to calm your heavy breathing
Your hands moved up to fist the shirt on his chest and you closed your eyes to finally let it all out, crying and sobbing your pain out, so hurt and so upset from what things had come to.
He pulled your heaving body into his arms and circled his arms so tight around you, as if afraid of losing you. You sobbed your heart out in the crook of his neck while he apologized to you, whispering countless confessions into your ears
"I love you, I love you so much baby, I'm sorry I haven't shown it to you enough" he whispered and you hiccuped in his chest, letting the hurt and disappointment wash over you, hearing him say he loved you already healing a part of you
His guilt ridden voice had you eventually giving in and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling back to stare into his eyes, small sniffles leaving your lips as u observed his tired face. Your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch, kissing your palm. You traced the heavy dark circles beneath his eyes, his irises were red rimmed and exhausted, hairs messy and uncombed
"How long since u slept?" You asked in your hoarse voice
He stared into your eyes, giddy from feeling you close again, feeling too good cuz you were back in his arms
"2 weeks" He whispered and your eyes teared up again. You knew he had been harsh on himself because of his work, he was often sick, unable to sleep or rest and then there was you and your feelings
Who cared about your stupid feelings when this man in front in front of you couldn't even get proper fucking sleep? If anything, you were the extra baggage that he had been carrying around
"I'm sorry" You whispered and his brows furrowed "baby why? "
"because I'm so inconsiderate, I'm sorry I'm so demanding and - his lips cut your rambling off mid sentence, chapped lips pressed against your plump ones and he kissed you like he had never kissed you before. Desperate hands grabbed your waist while your own tangled In his hairs, pulling him closer to you. You were both hungry. No the better word would be starved. You were starved to the point that even a little brush of skin against each other was sending your heads reeling. The kiss tasted of despair and guilt, it reeked of frustration but most of all jake kissed you like he was scared.
"Wanting to feel loved isn't a demand sweetheart, I'm sorry i haven't been there for you, I'm sorry i haven't been making you feel like you are my priority, because you are. You have no idea what you mean to me baby, you're my little heart" he whispered into your mouth and you started crying again like the crybaby that you were. You were his crybaby tho, his to console and comfort. His to love.
He kissed you again, soft pecks all over your face, whispering things that he had never told you before, he didnt like talking about his feelings this way but the moment demanded vulnerability and he could do anything for you.
You were sure your mother had heard everything by now and that's why you didn't hesitate to drag jake into your childhood bedroom. The both of you snuggled in your bed and talked about your feelings for hours. Tears were shed on both sides but it was comforting in a sense, to clear everything up and come clean about what you both needed
"Will you wear that dress for me again? When we get home?" he asked, his fingers tracing patterns into your waist and you pouted at him
"you've lost that privilege" You teased , slapping his chest lightly
He stared deeply into your eyes, his gaze so serious it made your own smile drop
"I'd do anything to gain that privilege again, to see you look so beautiful for me,so fucking pretty for me" he whispered and you blushed, your head reeling from his words
"I'll wear it" You mumbled shyly, god you were weak for this man
He leaned into you to bite your cheek
"Yeah? you'd let me take it off you too won't you? Unwrap you like a present, just for me? "
You blushed harder, ears burning up, your fists hitting against his chest
"Pervert" you whispered and he chuckled, his hands wrapping around your body to pull you closer, nose burying in the crook of your neck, leaving small sensual kisses
"Can't help it baby I'm so down bad for you" he groaned into your neck, making you flinch slightly as it tickled. His hold on your waist was tight, squeezing you desperately
"you're seriously not thinking dirty things while my mom's down the hallway right? " You asked giggling even though your cheeks were red and flushed. It had been a while since you and jake had done anything like this, since you felt wanted by him like this
jake's pants tightened uncomfortably upon hearing your giggles. God you were so sweet, there was a reason his manager had been forbidding him from seeing you
You were a distraction. You were addicting. And anyone with two eyes could see that jake was addicted to you.
He had physically recoiled when his manager had told him to chose between his idol career and you, seeing how he was willing to sneak out to meet you, risking everything and putting everyone at stake
But jake had promised he would control himself. He couldn't live without you, even the thought of you not being there made his chest constrict. So he decided to stay away from you for a while. Even though it hurt , it surely hurt less than to stay away from you forever
"I was drunk and couldn't stop thinking about you" jake whispered, coming up to move your body, laying you on your back so that he could hover over you
"so i drank more and kept drinking till I couldn't feel my fingers"
Your wide doe eyes stared up at him curiously, wondering why he was telling you this all of a sudden
He brought his palm up to your face, stroking your cheek by the back of his hand, caressing you like he loved you
"I didn't forget about your award sweetheart, I was too drunk to remember anything at all, woke up hungover the next evening and i realized what I had done. In an effort to forget about you, I forgot everything else as well. I know it's not an excuse but i just need to tell you" He said, his expression guilty and distraught
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to yourself
"Why were you trying to forget about me? Why not just come see me? or call me? "
Your innocent questioning eyes made jake close his eyes in impending sorrow. He leaned down and kissed u deeply, tasting your hot mouth to stabilize himself before pulling back and telling you everything.
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You layed wide wake, stroking your fingers through jake's hair as he slept soundly snuggled into your chest. His soft snores and breath hitting your clavicle.
Honestly you weren't surprised that his manager had done such a thing. You weren't a fool, you noticed the hostile stares he would shoot your way everytime you went over to the boys' dorms or practice sessions. His eyes were always set on you in a glaring warning, as if to say, "you're not welcome here"
You hated that you understood where he was coming from. Being responsible for an entire group's reputation must be hard and your presence only made it harder.
You sighed and hugged jake's head closer to you, burying your nose in his hairs, breathing him in after so long. His hands were around your waist, grip so tight even in his sleep, it made you feel safe and so loved. This was all you wanted. Him in your arms, was that really too much to ask for?
You were still awake about two hours later, sleep just wouldn't come to you, head filled with so many thoughts. You tried slipping out from his grip to fetch water but his strong hands were pulling your body back into him
"Hmm don't go" He mumbled, his voice heavy and sleep ridden, eyes still closed but brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and kissed his nose, trying to slip again when his eyes opened wide, a gasp escaped your lips when he was flipping you over, resting his body over yours, nibbling on your ear
"I said don't fucking go" he growled and the sound had you rubbing your thighs together, hands coming up to rest against his shoulders
"I-i was just thirsty" you whispered and he hummed into your skin, nibbling on your ear again, sucking your lobe into his mouth making you whine softly
"I'm thirsty too" he whispered in your ear, his hands moving down to grab your thighs and parting them so he could settle his crotch against your middle, making you feel how hard he was in his jeans
"so fucking thirsty baby" He groaned and thrusted against you, a harsh gasp left your lips at his actions
"J-jake not here" you whispered but even you didn't believe your words, pussy starting to drip just from the way his voice sounded so husky and deep in your ear. His hands groped your lower body, taking a handful of your ass as he issued another thrust against you
Before you could tell him to stop again, he was pulling back, standing on his knees between your legs while he hastily undid his belt and jeans
"I'm sorry sweetheart I just can't wait any fucking longer, I need to put it in" he panted, you squirmed underneath him, watching how he was quick to pull his pants down his legs, his boxers coming off along with them, hanging around his thighs
He didn't bother taking his clothes all the way off, desperate hands reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs
Your breathing was heavy, eyes pivoted to the hard dick that hung between his legs, arousal gushing down your slit when he rubbed a finger against your hole while fisting his own dick a few times "such a pretty fucking pussy"
"jake please" you moaned and he cursed, coming up to capture your lips into his own while he settled between your legs, rubbing his cock against your leaking cunt, rubbing it up and down, bumping against your engorged clit, making you moan into his mouth that was busy licking into yours
The feeling of being so close to each other after so long had you feeling hot and heavy
"Yeah baby? you want it?" he demanded, eyes dark and lust ridden as he gazed into your teary ones
"Y-yes please" you mumbled and jake clenched his jaw. Fuck. You were sweeter than candy and he couldn't control himself when it came to you
He rested his forehead against yours, looking down to stare at how his dick entered your warm sex, hips grinding to slide in smoother and deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan upon the feeling of him inside of you after so long "baby f-fuck" he groaned into your mouth, feeling his resolve to go soft on you fading away at the way your tight walls were clenching around him
"you're sucking me in baby, so tight"
His words made your hips twitch. The indication enough for him to start moving in you. Your nails dug into his shoulders from above his shirt that he still wore as his hips started snapping against yours, his balls smacking filthily against your ass
His hot moans were making you wetter, drool escaping your mouth at the pleasure
"ts so good baby I fucking missed this" he pants, his hands groping your body mercilessly as he kept moving in and out of your leaking pussy
He licked the drool escaping your lips, sticking his tongue inside your hot mouth, licking into it with urgency while he moved your legs upwards, pressing your body in a mating press, increasing his pace
Harsh animalistic thrusts were sending your body in a ripple, making you move back and forth as he moved above you, sending the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall, the sex getting louder, messier
"Yeah, yeah, fuck yeah" he insinuated with every grind of his hips into you, meshing your lower bodies together to create a friction so insane it had you moaning his name in a chant, mind numbing pleasure clouding your senses
You both shared open mouth kisses, sucking on each other's tongue lewdly, uncaring of how messy it was, you loved messy
His hands moved up to hold onto the headboard above your head as he moved his hips deeper into yours, letting your legs fall around his hips, wrapping around his waist, your ankles digging into his ass to keep him buried deep inside of your warm cunt
"Wanted to make love to you but look what you fucking do to me" he groaned into your mouth, occasionally licking into it and digging his teeth into your lower lip, making you whine and moan in extreme pleasure. His dick made out with your cervix, bumping pleasurably into your g spot, penetrating your womb mercilessly
The sound of the headboard slamming was getting louder, bed creaked beneath your writhing bodies, the sweat on your naked bodies making it easier to slide against each other
Your moans were getting louder as his silent curses reached a fever pitch, a bunch of "Umhhnshit baby" and "so good" s falling from his lips, hips getting sloppier, pistoning in and out of you in a frenzy, uncaring of how your mother could probably hear you get pounded into the sheets
"s-so close jake I'm so close" you moaned and his hips got faster, his hand sneaking down to rub against your clit to make u reach your high faster. He couldn't wait to feel you gushing around his cock "that's right baby, make a fucking mess on me yeah?" he groaned, biting your lower lip and rubbing harshly against you, his hips never faltering, thrusting and thrusting until you were cumming all over his dick with a scream of his name
The moan was so pornographic it had him cumming within minutes of feeling the delicious clench of your cunt around his aching cock, filling you up to the brim, harsh pants escaping his lips as he used your pussy to ride his orgasm, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Sighs of satisfaction filled the empty space between your mouths
Harsh breaths were shared as you both came down from your highs, sharing sweet kisses and confessions, a string of "I love you" s falling from his lips while his palms caressed your body softly, rubbing against the parts where he'd grabbed you harshly
"Don't you need to go back? what will your manager do if he finds out you're here with me?" you asked some time later, his dick was still in you, feeling too good to cockwarm him just like this
He kissed you softly and shook his head "Told jay to take care of it. I honestly couldn't care less baby I just need you"
You bit your lower lip, getting shy now that he was being so sweet to you, not used to have him say such things to you casually "But u should care jake, you can't just risk your career for me"
"I could do anything for you. Nothing matters if you're not there, I hope you know that sweetheart" he whispered in your mouth before kissing you deeply again. "I hope you also know how proud of you I am my pretty little artist, no one else deserved that award more than you baby"
You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and kissed him back, heart feeling full and all insecurities fading away at his words, cheeks flaming red from his compliments, unable to hide the smile overtaking your face
"I love you" you whispered, as if saying them any louder would take the meaning of the words away
"Yeah? Say that again baby" He whispered back and you giggled shyly, burying your face in the crook of his neck where you repeated the words again
He chuckled and kissed the side of your head adoringly "I love you so much too baby, and I'm going to show it to you every waking moment, I'm gonna love on you till you're begging me to stop"
You curled your body further into him at his words, heart feeling giddy after a very long time. Hoping that this feeling would last forever.
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1K notes · View notes
kpopfanfictrash · 5 months
Text
Jingle All the Way Collaboration
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Coming your way this holiday season! Whether you've been naughty or nice, you'll have seven fics to unwrap by @kpopfanfictrash , @leahsfavefics , @kithtaehyung , @yoonia , @cybrsan and @sugaurora.
All second chance romance. All holiday themed. All attempting to utilize the same quote: "The holidays aren't so bad with you around." Come down the chimney, embrace your inner Vixen, and warm up this season with the Jingle All the Way collab!
Content Creator: all amazing banners are made by the truly spectacular @kithtaehyung!!
(Links to be added as fics are posted)
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Title: The Ten Days of Ex-Mas
Author: @kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; hockey player au, second chance au, oh noo there was only one bed
Summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.
Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.
Posting Date: December 19th, 2023
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Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon
Author: @leahsfavefics
Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)
Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au
Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.
Posting Date: December 21st, 2023
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Title: Back to December
Author: @kithtaehyung
Pairing: Seokjin x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au
Summary: Ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.
Posting Date: TBD
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Title: A Christmas Fix
Author: @yoonia
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+), secret baby au, s2l au, fake dating au on the side (more on that later)
Summary: One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.
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Title: Everwinter
Author: @kithtaehyung
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; ex-fwb 2 lovers au, second chance au
Summary: You told him you loved him, and that was a mistake. Because years later, you both meet up with your old friend group for a holiday trip, and neither of you have forgotten that.
Posting Date: TBD
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Title: Miracle of the Season
Author: @cybrsan
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; angel au, second chance au
Summary: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a familiar face pops up and you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
Posting Date: December 29th, 2023
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Title: A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays
Author: @sugaurora
Pairing: Hoseok x Reader(f)
Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; second chance au
Summary: Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, an innovative talent agent promising to produce the most well-loved adult entertainment artists of the era. And that’s how you became an erotic market darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.
Ten years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with one last appearance at the biggest adult industry convention of the year. Only when you arrive, you find yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.
What’s a former porn star to do?
Posting Date: TBD
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regulusrules · 11 months
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So merlin is trending, huh? Here are 5 fics you should read about those immortal idiots
1. and it will set you free series by @andiwriteordie. Arguably my favourite fix-it from so, so long. The way the author introspected about their entire lifetime was unbelievably powerful. And the way they gave Arthur agency to have had a say in the whole "destiny" debacle from the very beginning.. oh my. So creative and so incredibly loving. Honestly, all of this author's works are works of art and it's a crime against the fandom how very underrated they are.
2. Smile and Pretend by Fulgance. Yes fine I know I can't keep on recommending this author's Beauty in the Ashes of Our Lives every time I get the chance. But really, this one was just as amazing. My soft heart flutters for any and all Arthur-Finds-Out fics. Especially those where he lets Merlin come to him with it instead. aaaah. This fic is definitely one of the top tiers of the category.
3. To you I swear my solemn oaths by @regulusrules. Again, yes I know I should stop flouncing around My heart is readily yours every time I get the chance. It's my hyperfixation on fics that hyperfixate over Arthur, forgive me. TYISMSO was my first ever fic in the fandom, and I always look back at it with pride of how much faith I tried to breathe between them. They were in love, your honour. God I love those two idiots so much.
4. Fathom Me Out by @supercalvin. I don't know about you, but to me this is a requirement for our fandom. If you haven't read this fic, you haven't read anything. It is absolute brilliance— in writing, in the plot, in their characterization.. absolutely everything.
5. Still I Surface in Morning Light by @queerofthedagger. Scar reveal, but make it so good that you never stop thinking about it. I can hands-down say it's one of the best scar reveal fics I've read in this fandom. It's so intricately written and their conversations are otherworldly. The despair and love you see here.. a masterpiece.
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zarla-s · 5 months
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We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...
It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.
Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.
I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.
How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.
I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.
I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D
(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)
[index] [patreon]
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1-800-kami · 5 months
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4:23 pm | the adventures of dad!gojo
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content: 0.9k words, fem!reader, dad gojo, megumi is your son, silly crack fic
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gojo satoru is a man with very little fears.
in actuality, people are afraid of him. a mere gaze from those cerulean blue eyes of his sends people running off to the opposite direction, so the adjective “intimidating” was quite the understatement to describe him. some might even say that he’s the strongest, so he possesses no fear at all.
despite that, gojo has one thing he’s deathly afraid of: you–his wife, when you’re angry.
“suguru, help me out here!” geto can physically feel his bestfriend’s panic through the phone. gojo explained the situation in a fast ramble–geto could barely understand what he was saying, but he thinks he got the gist of it: you went out to run some errands and entrusted gojo to take care of your two year old child, megumi, while you were out. gojo conjured up the genius idea of keeping megumi entertained by handing him a paper and markers–so that they could surprise you with megumi’s amazing artistic abilities once you came back home.
it had gone “so well”, gojo said earlier, picking up the paper and studying it. “i think this is a drawing of a cat? or a dog, i don’t really know.. still, it’s made by my son, and it’s the peak of art and i think everyone should see it!”
gojo was so busy trying to decipher what megumi had drawn that he didn’t realize that his son still had the markers in his hands. when he peers over to look at megumi again, he just about screamed.
“gumi- no- GUMI!” he shrieks, snatching the markers away from his son’s hold. megumi, not having a paper to draw on anymore, decided to use the wall as his canvas instead—sketching a poorly drawn house with a bright red marker. “you’re not supposed to draw on the wall! aw fuc-ahem, freak… your mom’s gonna kill me…”
“gosh suguru, some advice would help!” satoru’s never been so afraid in all his years of living. you’re coming home pretty soon, and he has no idea what to do. he’s already imagining the look on your face–and it’s pushing satoru to the brink of passing out. gojo satoru–the renowned sorcerer who’s fought the king of curses, been sealed away in a box and has had multiple near death experiences–all of these things have happened to him yet none can compare to the fear of facing his wife when she’s angry.
“hmm? what is it, nanako?” satoru can hear his bestfriend trying not to laugh over the phone. suguru knows an easy solution to his problem, but he thinks that leaving satoru in the dark is funnier. it’s rare to see the strongest sorcerer like this, so geto revels in it with pure amusement. “you’re hungry? okay… let’s see what i can make for you, yeah?”
“you heard her, satoru~ one of the twins are hungry. i’m afraid i have to go… good luck about the markers, yeah?” suguru hangs up before satoru could say a word. he curses under his breath, but feels his heart stop when he hears the door unlock.
you’re home.
“mama!” megumi yells, clapping his hands and slowly crawling over to the front door. you happily greet your son, placing the grocery bags on the table.
you walk over to your husband, kissing him on the cheek before noticing the piece of paper that he’s holding. “oh? what’s this?”
you grab the paper from his hands and satoru regains a little bit of his composure once he hears you coo at your son’s drawing. “thought it would be nice for me and megumi to surprise you while you were gone… it’s a drawing of a cat-”
“horsey!”
“...a horse. yup, that’s what i said!” he sheepishly ignores his son’s glare, mentally preparing himself to tell you about the wall.
“i love it! oh my gosh, megumi, aren’t you just a little artist?” you say, ruffling your son’s hair with a big smile. “this is definitely going on the fridge.”
“...there’s one small problem, though…” satoru refuses to meet your gaze.
“what did you do this time, satoru?”
“hey, it technically wasn’t me!” he says, this time being the one to shoot the glare at his son. “so hypothetically…what if i told you that gumi thought it would be a nicer idea to use the wall as a canvas instead of the paper?”
“...”
satoru perceives your silence as his death sentence. “look, i’m sorry! i was trying to figure out what he drew and i forgot that he still had the markers in his hands-”
“satoru-”
“and the next thing i know, he drew on the wall before i was able to take the markers from him-”
“toru-”
“and suguru wasn’t giving me advice either, but then-”
“satoru!” your final yell finally breaks him from his ramble. he’s surprised to see that no, you don’t have a look of murder on your face. in fact, you’re actually smiling—looking more amused than anything.
“satoru, they’re washable markers.” you take a baby wipe from your purse and walk over to the wall, wiping away the bright red marker strokes easily with a few swipes. you’re trying not to laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “did you not know that?”
now he’s the one stunned into silence. “...”
“no, no… i definitely knew that…!”
“yeah, sure you did.”
being a father is so difficult.
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navstuffs · 11 months
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DO IT FOR HIM
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
Summary: Leon catches a particular item on your stuff.
Warnings: cute, two idiots in love, FLUFFY FLUFF, comedy, domestic!leon
Author's Notes: inspiration for this came from The Simpsons obvs and this amazing artwork from @emahriel. thank you so much giving me the honor to use it for my little fic! you should all check her blog, she has amazing artwork! i hope this fills your day with joy as much as i had fun writing it!
my leon's masterlist
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"What is that?"
You and Leon have been cleaning your bedroom. The idea came from you: to let the energy flow around the house by donating and throwing away old items. Well, you were, at least. Leon is lying in bed, still wearing pajama pants and a shirt, although it is 4 pm. He deserves his rest, he says, and you agree. Because only Leon looks gorgeous in simple grey pants and a white shirt with a hole in the armpits. No complaints on your side.
"What is that?" Leon asks as you sit on the floor, surrounded by old stuff "That. Right there," Leon points, and your eyes follow. It is just your old collection of mangas.
"This?"
"No, behind it. That small little glass frame. What is on it?"
Small little glass…oh, crap. You immediately realize what it is, your stomach twisting. You thought you threw away that long ago before you and Leon moved together. It was a cute piece you made for yourself when you met him, feeling like a teenager in love again. It was never in your plans for Leon to see it.
"No-nothing. It's probably an old art project of mine," You try to place the frame with its face down, thinking of a way to get rid of it, before Leon, faster than you, is at your side, pulling from your hands. "Wait, Leon!"
When Leon turns the frame around, he paralyzes. It is his face. There are numerous pictures of him smiling, looking seriously at the camera, and even admiring the background scenery. There were a few of his younger self as well. And behind it, written in your handwriting in big black bold letters, DO IT FOR HIM. Leon looks at you, a smile appearing on his face, and he feels his cheek heat up.
You don't see that, your face hidden behind your hands. It was just a silly thing you did to help you during work. You placed it on your table to remind yourself to stay strong, even when things got hard.
You peek between your fingers to see Leon isn't in there anymore. Well, there you cringed the man of your life, and he probably regretted marrying you. Or, knowing Leon, he left to give a good laugh without embarrassing you.
Leon comes back, his wallet in his hands. You wait until he sits by your side and hands you the wallet.
"Open it."
You do as you are told, feeling Leon's gentle stare. You hadn't seen anything special in his wallet before besides cards and ID. You look up, and he motions for you to open his wallet. You do it, finding a small folded piece of paper.
"What is this?" You ask, cautious.
"Unfold it."
You wrinkle your forehead, opening the paper and looking at him surprised. It is one of the first pictures you took together after Raccoon City, and you just started dating. Although it was supposed to be a selfie together, Leon accidentally cut himself almost entirely out of the picture, focusing on you and your big happy smile. The paper seemed to have been folded and unfolded plenty of times. When you look at Leon, his face visibly red now, he confesses, his voice low.
"Helped a lot in dark times, believe me."
"Why this one specifically?"
"It was the first time you told me you loved me. I like to remember that."
Without being able to control yourself anymore, sniffling, you throw yourself in Leon's arms, hiding your face on his neck.
"Are you crying?" Leon wonders with a smile. When you don't answer, he rubs your back, whispering in your ear, "I still love you as much as that day."
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iovesia · 1 year
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IN THIS DARKNESS.
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❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( keanu reeves masterlist. & gif credit. )
synopsis : sfw & nsfw dating john wick headcanons.
warnings: fluff. breaking up. angst. smut. canon typical violence.
pairings : john wick  𝒙  fem!reader.
josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ holy fuckkkk, the new john wick movie ignited something in me. i was straight up biting my lip off in the movie theater. enjoy these little headcanons while i try to come up with an actual fic. your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy! — reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡
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SFW.
Number #1 Gentleman™. Outside of his profession, he’s quite literally the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, and he'll really try to woo you when you first start dating.
Like, holding the door open for you, carrying your bags, giving you his jacket when you’re cold, paying for dinners, and even buying you expensive gifts.
This man is 100% loaded. Expect him to be buying you all kinds of trinkets and gifts. Whenever he notices you staring at something, or briefly mentions something, he’ll remember it forever.
John is super observational, he notices all the little things. His quietness (and lowkey awkwardness) make him an amazing listener. Because he lives such a chaotic life, in contrast to the one with you— he loves to listen to you ramble about everyday shenanigans.
He has a dry ass sense of humor.
Pet names consist of: sweet girl, and honey. He's a little old-timey like that.
Super protective over you. Like, second shadow level protective— man will not let you out of his sight. He's lost so much in his life, and after Helen, he just can't stand the thought of ever losing you.
While he would try to stay out of fights when he's around you, he'd wouldn't take shit from anyone who tried something with you. He's John Wick after all, so trust that he'd kick their ass.
Not a fan of PDA, and gets a little awkward about it in the early days of your relationship. Growing up in the Ruska Roma, physical affection wasn't exactly number one priority. So he's a little surprised (and touch-starved) when he notices how clingy you are.
Always walking his his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Random sidenote, but I headcanon that John is warm all the time. Mans is a walking furnace.
You spend all your nights tangled in each others arms. He's always the big spoon, letting you rest your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he encapsulates you with his strong arms.
John loves having you sit in his lap. The two of you could spend hours together, even if it was in silence, just enjoying each others loving embrace.
You end up getting a dog together, and you constantly tease John for his terrible choice in names.
"John, c'mon, don't be boring!" You giggle as you kneel down, rubbing the cheeks of the cutest pit bull you've ever seen. "We can't name the dog, Dog."
"You have any better ideas?" John smirks, kneeling down next to you, pressing his lips to the side of your head.
It'll take a while before he talks about his past and profession with you. He doesn't want to inadvertently drag you into his life of crime, and put you in any danger.
But, soon enough, the walls will lower and he'll let his guard down. John will confess secrets about himself, bit by bit.
It'll be on a random night, when you start tracing his tattoos with your finger. In a quiet whisper, you'll ask him what the one on his back means.
"Fortune favors the bold," he whispers with a raspy voice, his thumb rubbing your forearm, as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. "I got it when I was younger."
You always ask him to teach you some moves, and he's happy to do so, under the guise that it's for self-defense (and not at all that his muscles and figure look amazing when he's doing martial arts).
He can only keep running from the assassin life for so long, until it eventually comes to bite him in the ass. So to protect you, he forces himself to break up with you.
John, unfortunately, carries a large sense of self-loathing. He thinks and knows he doesn't deserve you. For the heinous things, he's done, he knew it was too good to be true.
You cry, and beg him to explain why he's doing this. But, in true John nature, he holds himself together and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before walking out.
You don't see him crumbling, and breaking down as he shuts the door behind him.
NSFW.
Size kink. Size kink. Size. Kink.
John is 6'1, so you'll be climbing this man like a tree.
He loves how big his hands look, when he presses your wrists down on the bed, or when he grabs a handful of your breast.
Missionary position is his favorite. He loves the intimacy, and being as close to you as physically possible.
You wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as he leaves several hickeys along your collarbone— Lord, he can't get enough of it.
Corruption kink, I can't lie.
He's a big, scary, assassin— and his moral integrity is a little murky. John almost gets off on the idea of slowly corrupting you, and turning you into his dirty girl.
He is hung. That's all I have to say.
Again, super possessive. Do not ask him to share, he will shut that down.
For someone who never talks, he's suddenly dirty talking in your ear the whole time. His lips pressed against your ear, mumbling all kinds of things that make your cheeks burn.
"Hmm, what was that?" He hums, sending vibrations through your body. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."
Breeding kink.
Not fully for the reason of wanting kids (although, he'd love to start a family with you and really settle down), but again for the intimacy.
He loves to mark you with his cum, another result of his total possessive protectiveness of you. You don't miss the way his eyes darken when he empties inside you, watching as it comes pouring out.
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© iovesia, 2023. do not plagiarise, translate, or repost my work.
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