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#just like me fr EVEN WITH HIS APPEARANCE
dailykafka · 7 months
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If you thought "ah, young Kafka! How old is he here? 17? 20 maybe?" WRONG! This is a full grown man at 27…
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lifesver · 7 months
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i still just think that leland's like... tendency toward neutral blues and browns in his clothing, nothing too bright, no warm colours really, is also just a reflection of him being sort of withdrawn in some ways about aspects of himself. like yeah he's social he's golden retriever energy he's friendly and kind and polite, but it's almost more like, he's fluid in the way that he shifts into that for the people around him? to bring them up, bring their spirit up, be a source of warmth or a pillar of support for them. but i think that without the energy/moral support he gets from friends and family, he is actually a fairly quiet, understated sort of person, who can fit into a lot of situations easily and adapt. but doesn't necessarily know who he is without people around him? he's social, but he puts on more of it to impress or camoflauge, and to be what he thinks he should be, esp when he starts at college. hanging out w the dudes on the team and that kinda crowd. how he survived highschool and was generally well liked back home fr
i think it's the friend group that brings out his most genuine side, and brings him out of the insecurities he has about himself and how he presents and just all of it rly. i don't think he had Bad friends growing up or anything, but i don't think he had the same depth of understanding from them, that he got from the friends he meets in college. it kind of unlocked the part of himself that he mainly only was at home around his mom and sisters. w the sensitivity, and the types of things that might be attributed to being more stereotypically feminine.
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master-k0hga · 2 months
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| T A K E S H I |
[ Category: The Promised Land ]
| There we go, the old sport himself.... Y'know,,, the guy who runs the organisation to not only get goods sent around the Promised Land and help his family owned business going, but to also keep the peace and all that shit... His family has been best buddies with the Royal family of the Golden Palace after all for generations, so he's in good hands if ever they are swamped with work or are being threatened...!
Takeshi is a pretty stoic kinda guy, takes his work seriously, and definitely takes his relationships of all kinds seriously as well! If anybody goes out of line or breaks his trust, not only will he shut you out; But you'll be exiled, punished and potentially snuffed out... But he's needn't do that since nobody has personally nor professionally stooped that low to him.... Yet
He's a very reliable and trustworthy fellow, and despite how intimidating he looks to many; He's someone who is definitely worthy having in your life.. Hardworking, competent, surprisingly very comforting! He's a saint compared to his family's shady history...!!
.. And he must be a really cool guy, Tammy is dating him and they plan of getting married someday!
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
INFO
Name: Takeshi Species: Ice Elf (Origin Kind) General Personality: Serious, independent, hardworking, trustworthy, protective, actually very welcoming, quite stubborn, strong Height: 9ft "2" Relationship Status: In a relationship
Extra Info:
Takeshi took over the Frostclaw Traders organisation after his father's passing when he was 18; The organisation was actually something incredibly different before his grandfather took over and completely re-did everything from the ground to what it was known as previously.. Which used to be a cult of sacrifice, blood, greed and all now frowned upon by the newer generations while what had happened prior was approved of by the acenstors of both the Golden Palace and Frostclaw. Takeshi wishes to keep to what the organisation means nowadays; Trades, peace and a very well fed supply of resources all around the Promised Land
Despite being just a mere Ice Elf, Takeshi and his late family were of a "pure breed" which are actually referred to as "Frost Folk", the Ice Elves themselves just seemed to have "dwindled" ever so slightly and "softened" their physical attributes through the years whilst Takeshi himself remained of his origins. The only vital differences is that their skin appears more pale and could potentially glisten like icicles in the sunlight, their eyes pale with sharp white pupils and fanged teeth like vampires (minus the blood sucking). The Origin diet mainly consists of ice and herbal teas as they cannot process meats or heavy foods; Diet practically being mostly of liquid or things that can melt easily on the tongue
He actually wields two blades, and carries a small dagger that was passed down from his mother on his 10th birthday; He never uses the dagger however keeps is as a good luck charm. The dual blades were passed from his father a week before his father's passing years ago
He's 31 years old and appears to have been that age for the past decade; Unknown to this anomaly, he fears something that the indescribable horrors his ancestors has committed have punished him, cursed to become immortal as he watches his loved ones slip away.. Either that or he has lost track of time, thus losing track of his age, not even Tammy knows how old he potentially could be
Usually he and his partner tends to take turns when it comes to business, Tammy deals with the papers, the contracts and phone calls while Takeshi focuses more on the meetings, the agreements and engagements to keep the organisation going at a steady pace; Although it is joked around by his girlfriend that he cannot sit still in a phone call and listen to the other "unintelligible imbecile" on the other side, and also he needs reading glasses so he doesn't accidentally agree to something he "refuses to acknowledge" or "accept"
He's quite stubborn, even though he cannot deny it, his own parents, although had not outright acted on inherently "evil activities" by the standards of their ancestors, but his father specifically had to agree to certain "distasteful procedures" just to keep the Frostclaw Traders alive up to now; Takeshi personally believes his parents, most specifically his father, were saints when they were alive. A part of him is still a child at heart when he's naive about his family and their actions
Takeshi runs and leads the main branch of the Frostclaw Traders organisation within the Glacier Mountains of the Promised Land, which is also the main hometown for the Ice Elves, however that isn't to say he does not have other branches opened out within the realm itself to make his business efficient. Almost every corner within the Promised Land has Frostclaw services, ranging from stock, resources, even a couple small postal services; He has no doubt hired and even promoted most of his members of his business to run and manage the other branches (with helps of the civilizations within the regions). It is also thanks to King Aurelius that Takeshi is able to expand this business thoroughly to keep the realm in well managed conditions
Although not directly, he did have a bad couple of run ins with a few of Kira's henchmen when they tried to infiltrate the hometown of the Ice Elves to steal some valuables and other "secret documents and treasures" for whatever purposes, though being quite the fighter and his defences are, they scared them off successfully without too much lost
Ice Elves bleed a teal blue, however Takeshi being of the Origin era; his is a luminous blue and (believe it or not) has a gold shimmer.. So if you see a pretty luminous blue "paint" with a gold shinmer, that isn't paint that's Frost Folk blood
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
But uhm.. Yeah, s'pose that's about it for him- The main guy who runs the business, maintaining it while keeping his people happy, comfortable and safe from the threats of the opposing sides. Although not as directly involved or connected with the threat of the Deceit and their goal, the Frostclaw's alliance is with the Golden Palace, so Takeshi and his people are prone to be harassed or threatened.. Not like that'll stop him from continuing on with his family run business and trying to make this strange realm a safe place to live..
Takeshi, obviously like the others, was also a former Yiga OC of mine before I changed them up entirely! And funnily enough in the BotW era where I had them be part of the Yiga clan, Takeshi originally was gonna be like the next leader after Master Kohga retires and lets him take over before I made them all into their own thing.. Takeshi hasn't really changed personality-wise since he's always been a hardworking and independent person, but leading a business along with those close to him makes it very easy to get the job done, even if he is potentially cursed to become an immortal being who's been punished for his ancestors sick and twisted endeavours.. (Or is his fear of living alone is making him succimb to his paranoia)... But uhm.. Yeah!
Believe I only really have a few former Yiga OCs who are in need of re-purposing entirely before I'm actually done with the basics for them, and then after that I'll have to go back to sorting out my Zareans species and other non related OCs..
Still loads to do but oh well-
. Takeshi, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .
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deus-ex-mona · 2 years
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belated ✨congratulations✨ to dai for being the first ft4 member to get 2 5☆s!!!!
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angelamontoo · 1 year
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Probably a dumb idea, but what if Dimitrios was a big fan of Leydens detective stories?
Idk I've been toying with this headcanon a lot lately. Ofc it doesnt really make a difference to the story since he never finds out "Mr Smiths" true identity, but I think it'd be kind of fun if the dude that Cornelius had developed a morbid fixation on happened to also be an admirer of his work
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astrxealis · 2 years
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hi! watching/listening to a translation of the voice dramas starting from the beginning rn ^__^
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faeriecap · 1 year
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throwback to when one of my cap mutuals i knew irl had a friend who just. ran into sebastian stan when we were in high school and i begged my aunt to drive me over there so i could find him but she didn’t so my friend sent us the picture and seb had this extremely visible acne on his forehead and i was so shocked to see anything like that on a celeb that my cystic acne ridden ass SAVED THE PHOTO AND CROPPED THE GIRL OUT AND KEPT IT IN MY FAVORITES FOR LIKE THREE YEARS TO LOOK AT WHENEVER I FELT BAD ABOUT MYSELF HELP CJDJEJAKAKS WHAT THE FUCK???
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gojorgeous · 5 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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kentopedia · 7 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento
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yuuji accidentally calls you mom
contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059
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“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”
kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.
a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.
so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.
“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”
yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.
“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.
“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”
he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”
there's an elongated moment of silence.
you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.
all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“
“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“
though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”
you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.
kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”
you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.
“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.
yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.
“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!
kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.
“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”
"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."
kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.
though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.
you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”
yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”
kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”
you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.
"you should be nicer to your son, kento."
kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."
you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.
but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.
"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.
kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."
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snekdood · 8 months
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i really try to understand why my fellow progressives are so avoidant of actually introspecting on why they think its still cool to bully. im sorry but thats just an inherently conservative thing to want to do.
#ive had to actually introspect about it. i was never really a bully fr but i did. like everyone else. have judgemental thoughts about ppl#still. and i really had to ask myself. why does it matter that EYE judge this person? 1. im holding my own opinion of this other random#person i probably dont know as being the most important opinion when its like. who tf am i. 2. wtf did this person MORALLY do wrong#to deserve me internally insulting them for how they look or dress or whatever. and even if its someone whos a conservative.#how does me judging that person make the entire situation better at all? it really only just. makes me feel better about the lack of#power i have over that person to not be a dipshit. thats really it#insulting them isnt going to change their mind and LIKE IVE SAID A MILLION TIMES will ONLY make them dig their heels in more#im not saying go up to your local rwinger and give them a hug and validate them or whatever tf. thats not your job. all im asking is simply#shut your brain the entire fuck up when it wants to judge someone for something that they cant control or is morally neutral#charlie kirk having a small face is morally neutral. his politics? not so much! attack that. at least.#(not that the memes aren't funny- but we cant fool ourselves into thinking bullying him is gonna change him or his fans)#i just wanna know why you think your opinion on how someone looks or dresses or whatever is that important is all#the best motto anyone can adopt really is 'MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS' ffs#your opinion on their appearance really doesnt matter like at all! instead of feeling the urge to have an opinion on the way they look#simply let some things ~be~. have 0 opinion about how they look or if theyre weird and awkward. focus on the shit that ACTUALLY matters#you dont always have to sort things in boxes of 'good' and 'bad'. some things can just exist without you labeling them.#and also why do you NEED to label everything and who are you and why do you think your label is important enough to vocalize?#anyways.#and im not gonna act like ive been perfect about this but this is work that we're always gonna hafta do so long as we live in a#susciety that places value on other people and labels them on whether or not theyre good enough for whatever thing#competition outside of friendly sportsball will always be bad change my mind#if the sportsball gets to be unfriendly and too intense to the point that you hate someone you need to fuckin chill and leave the event#lmao. like you've gotta go and take a shower and think for a bit instead of continuing to funnel your rage into ppl who dont deserve it :|#i wanna be clear tho i dont think theres anything morally wrong w making fun of charlie kirk for how he looks. just recognize the reason ur#doing it. bc ur not doing it bc ur someone crusading against misinfo or whatever ur doing it bc u dont know how to convince#him to stop and are throwing spaghetti at the wall
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asakamasanobu · 8 months
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it took me almost a month of waiting but my ricchan haul hath arrived at long last u_u <3
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svartalfhild · 8 months
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Elf Lore in the Forgotten Realms for BG3 Players who are Unfamiliar
I've been seeing some...uninformed takes lately about certain elf characters from BG3, so let me just throw some stuff out there for y'all to consider.
Elves in FR live to be about 750.
They physically mature at roughly the same rate as humans i.e. 18-20.
Culturally, elves don't consider other elves emotionally mature i.e. adults until the age of 100, at which point they may choose an adult name to go by.
What does this mean, logically? Well, consider their very long lifespan. If you are going to live 750 years, your perspective on wisdom is going to be quite different from a human's. While 60 years might be plenty mature for a human, for an elf, that means you still haven't had enough time to watch all of your shorter lived friends pass, which I imagine is something of an emotional milestone for elves.
Halsin is 350. This means he's just hitting middle-age.
Astarion is 239 (Idle Champions claims he's 350, but I call bullshit because his birth and death dates are literally in BG3 and also IC frequently gives the characters bullshit ages, like they say Jaheira is 36, which couldn't have been true even during BG1). He died at 39, which is quite young, but he had the same emotional maturity as a human 39 year old at the time, so he's not Like That because he's undeveloped. He's Like That because he's a snapshot of a privileged young nobleman who then spent 200 years being used and abused by the worst sort of person imaginable. He wasn't a full adult by elven standards, though, and I'm sure there's lots of elven rites of passage he didn't get to experience because he was dead.
BG3 does not mechanically distinguish between sun elves and moon elves and simply puts them all under the high elf umbrella, but they are very much a thing in the lore and have distinct appearances, cultures, and histories.
Moon elves tend to have black, blue, or silver-white hair and have pale skin, sometimes with a bluish hue. Their eyes are usually blue or green, sometimes with gold flecks.
Sun elves tend to have blond, black, or red hair and brown skin tones. Their eyes are usually green, gold, black, copper, silver, or hazel.
Based on his appearance, Astarion is probably a moon elf, and it's likely his original eye colour was either blue or green.
There are many other types of elves than those that are playable in the BG3, such as sea elves, winged elves, star elves, wild elves, and lythari.
It's possible that Shadowheart's father is lythari, because lythari are lycanthropic elves.
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rosyblooom · 1 month
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not so perfect strangers | ln4 smau
PAIRING: lando norris x private fem!reader SUMMARY: after getting completely splashed by a passing car, y/n throws all 'stranger danger' warnings out the window and hitches a ride home.
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Instagram
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: OMFG THIS CAR JUST SPLASHED ME NOW I'M SOAKED😭😭😭 couldn't even see the driver ughh ]
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[ caption: it's been almost 1 hr and i still look like a wet rat🙃 soo guess who's hitching a ride? (if i don't update within 2 hrs CALL THE POLICE PLS) ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]
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Instagram
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: no need to worry anymore, your girl made it back home🙂‍↕️ ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]
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Instagram
yourusername
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liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, yourfriend and 68 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername "stranger danger" but not this one !! 🙂‍↕️
view all 22 comments
yourfriend girl what- is this who I think it is???
yourusername 🤭🤭
yourbestfriend UHM DINNER TOOO????
yourusername messaging u rn girly🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
landonorris Again soon?👀
yourusername again tmrw? landonorris Again tomorrow. yourbestfriend what. the. fuck.
yourfriend pretty girl <33
(liked by author)
landonorris posted to his story!
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[ caption: Day 2 ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
Twitter
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Instagram
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: mixing friend groups >>> ] [ caption 2: another day, another slay 🙂‍↕️ ]
[ tagged: landonorris, yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]
Tiktok
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A couple days later...
yourusername posted to her close friends!
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[ caption 1: lol ] [ caption 2: bye ]
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Instagram
yourusername posted to her close friends!
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[ caption 1: this is awkward ahaha... how about we all just forget about my silly goofy little story FOREVER AGO pretty please😁 ]
[ tagged: landonorris ]
story replies:
yourbestfriend "he's dead to me"🤡🤡
yourusername pfft tomato tomato right ahaha 😁
yourfriend folding after only 5 days is clown shit lmfao
yourfriend LMAOOO where did all that energy go??
yourusername new phone who dis😀
yourfriend Y/N STAND TF UP OMFG???
yourusername b-but pretty flowers🥺 yourfriend a lost cause I see...
yourfriend I spy with my little eye a whole damn circus!
yourfriend so real tbh
yourusername i knew you'd get me babe 🙂‍↕️
[ ... ]
yourusername posted to her close friends!
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[ caption: STOP EATING ME UP IN THE REPLIES OMFG?? PLS FRIENDS I'M JUST A GIRLLL ]
A few months later...
Instagram
f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username, and 13,007 others
f1gossipofficial According to this picture sent to us by a fan in China, it seems Lando Norris has brought Y/N along with him for the upcoming Grand Prix.
The duo has been the subject of rumours and sightings together for a while now. Could this weekend finally mark the debut of a new wag?
They certainly appear close in the photo! 👀
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username just fell to my knees in walmart🧎‍♂️
username aw that picture is so cuteee i already love them together <33
username i feel like she's stuck up tbh cause i've been requesting to follow her for almost a month now and nothing. like girl you're not that important please😒
username uhmm...you're a weirdo username lmaooo how about you go live your life then if she isn't that important what💀
username I saw them too!! I asked for a pic with lando and she was super sweet and took it for us :)
username aw that makes me happy to hear username she did the same for me in monaco 🫶
username she gives bad vibes...
username y'all say that about everyone omg stfu
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: entering my lucky charm era hmm?👀 ] [ caption 2: AHHH P2 OMFG!!!! SO PROUD OF U LAN ❤️ ❤️ (you're welcome also 😌) ]
[ tagged: landonorris ]
lando.jpg
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, martingarrix, and 501,883 others
lando.jpg 🇨🇳
view all 3,097 comments
username rip lando's single era 😞💔
username crying and throwing up fr
yourusername ❤️
(liked by author)
username day 593 of begging you to make your insta public🥹 username with the way y'all treated Luisa I doubt that will happen username who tf is y'all?🤨
username P2 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO
username ik everyone's been hating but I actually like that y/n's super private bc it shows she's with him for the right reasons :)
username right she seems genuine 🫶
username so proud of you lando 🧡🧡
username LAST PIC SHOULD BE MEEE
1:22 ───────ㅇ───── 2:22
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nymphomatique · 9 months
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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻
this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.
cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!
“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”
miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’
you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.
peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.
you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.
immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”
you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.
you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.
a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”
miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”
you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.
after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.
peter 🚮
| is that fucking o’hara..?
| you’re fucking with me???
| fucking whore
| you sleep with nerds now??
you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.
you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.
fucking dweeb.
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deadghosy · 3 months
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Mommy long legs reader or slender man reader x Hazbin hotel 🌚🌝
AHHHH I LOVE YOU MY GHOST ANONNNN! SLENDERMAN?? YOU FINNA BRING OUT MY CREEPYPASTA PHASEE🦆✨💗‼️‼️‼️
HAZBIN HOTEL X SLENDERMAN! READER
prompt: a faceless creature of the height of 10’5 (or 7’9 idk I got two different heights from safari lol) came to hell to serve one final purpose…get a damn job.
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Two words, scary tall…
So say your height was 10’5…
SHIT GON GET WICKEEDDDD!!!
Okay so I can see Charlie being scared staring at you as you just sit like a nice gentleman as your body doesn’t fit the whole seat… (y’know what, let’s go with 7’9…) you told Charlie you use to be a leader before you somehow came to this wrenched place
Charlie felt bad and gave you a job here so yon can stay. But she was confused when you said “somehow”’ as if you didn’t die as a Human…WAIT A MINUTE..DID YOU JUST TALK WITHOUT A MOU-
Lucifer looked up at you and was like….“What in the fucking nine circles…” and you two became friends because of how Lucifer put accessories on you like a Christmas tree
Y’know how people make slenderman wear reading glasses sometimes? That’s you. 😭 with your blind ass LMAOO (I also wear glasses dw…) But I can see you wear the glasses and residents be so confused because…you don’t have eyes for Christ out loud-
“Fuck you wearin' glasses for?” Husk said to you once as he caught you even reading a book…now he was more confused. “I’m reading…” “…..okay..” husk was so done with this buffoonery as you had no mouth and eyes. But yet you could still read, see, and fuckin talk? Yeah he must be drunk as hell itself…
You treat niffty just like how fanon slenderman treats Sally. That’s how I headcannon it.
I headcannon you to be the fanon version of slenderman rather the cannon version. Cause you being the fanon version is just sweet considering the chaos that can happen in the hotel and how you treat niffty.
I can see people thinking you are a new overlord as you had a stern aura around yourself as you had a proper straight walk as you held a high chin not showing any weaknesses.
“Woah….did you see that sinner get lit in flames…” “yeah I did.” It got so quiet so quick as angel gave you a confused face as you just stood there. 😭 Angel couldn’t tell if you were being fr or being a smartass
You were just sleeping on the couch, dead ass like a passed out beer dad after watching football. And fat nuggets sat in your lap sleeping. Then angel came and slept by you, then husk, then niffty, AND THEN EVERYONE JOINED 😭 big ass family cuddle💗💗🦆
You deadass could be the bodyguard of the hotel as you could escort a sinner who is trying to be an ass to the staff and you’re just like, “YEET!” And boom they are thrown away
You and Alastor definitely bond the most as you two got black tentacles. It’s just for Alastor it’s based on his powers when he uses his magic. But for you, it’s just your appearance as you use them to pierce your enemies. But mostly you use them when you are too bored to pick up objects with your hands
BIGGG headcannon that when slenderman do that static thingy, for you it clouds their vision and hearing as you make them pass out. Either to death or just to knock them out.
Lol I can imagine the whole creepypasta mansion going crazy while you drink tea like “this is fine” as you are in some other universe- 😭 crossover type shit
Like Drowned Ben is spam texting your phone like, “slender. slender. Help. Slendy. Octopus. Father. Help help.. help JeFF STABBED ME!”
And your tall ass is just sleeping as everything is going soooo peaceful in the hotel.
While we are at that, EJ definitely was using a book to try and to summon you with sally behind him hugging her teddy to see you again. Meanwhile Jeff was chasing Ben as he goes through a tv to hide from Jeff.
I imagine people in the hotel would hug you except for Alastor as he hates touch. But the people would dead ass hug you as one of your tentacles hold them.
You picked up angel, niffty , Charlie and Vaggie with your four tentacles as you read a book. It was a funny but cute sight as Charlie was like “:p” while the others had a cartoony ass expression or a blank one which is definitely Vaggie and husk
Adam and Lute definitely glanced at each other confused at what the fuck you were as you didn’t have a demonic or angelic aura. But you had some type of power in you. It was weird asf as you just stood there like “🧍🏾am I ugly?” They just kept staring at you
I can see you having the same expression as the picture above when you met pentious as you and Alastor was having tea just chilling with the hellish weather.
“Do you know that guy?” “I have no idea who that pest is my dear friend.” Alastor says with his usual smile as he hands you a cookie.
Just straight up tea times with Alastor is so peaceful as Alastor was kinda suspicious when you didn’t say anything if he ate a cannibalism meal. But I mean…slenderman! Reader is use to people being a cannibal.
The vees are definitely intrigued with who the hell you are and how powerful are you as you were the talk of pentagram city when you first came.
I headcannon a sinner tried to cut off your tentacles only to be grabbed by one of them and slammed to the ground. You just stood there and let static ring loudly in their head to the point it exploded.
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nouvellevqgue · 5 months
Text
CHAMPION TO YOUR HEART
pairing: bf!lando norris x rider!reader
summary: everybody knows about his relationship with a motogp rider, but there's another side that they didn't know about this.
req: Could you do a smau about lando dating a MotoGP world champion? And the media expects him to be bitter because she’s younger than him and a world champion when he hasn’t won a race, but in reality he’s just immensely proud
₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆。✦˚‎
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circuit ricardo tormo
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yourusername the prettiest night in valencia
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alex_albon call me, we're going out (of course with lilymhe too🙄)
⤷ lilymhe what was that mean??????
username bf lando is appearing in the likes i see 👀👀
username she looks so good with the suittt😍😍
username y/n ilysmmmm
username slayed the fits as usual
lissiemackintosh i would love to see you race there
⤷ yourusername and i would love to see you be on the paddock
⤷ username two mothers interacting
username that hair is so good
username the prettiest motogp rider fr
username can't wait to see you on the track on sunday
username imagine we heard her national anthem for the nth time this year is the same as max's wilhelmus in f1
username i woke up and i'll heard y/n's anthem
username idk if i want to be her or lando rn
username she's literally so cool
username it's practically a cycle bcs if i watch f1 it's gonna be dutch anthem, and if i watch motogp it's going to be italian anthem. EVERY TIMEEEEE😔💀
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lando.jpg elevator love
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username wait who took the pic?🫢
⤷ daniel3.jpg it's always been me😔😔😔
⤷ maxfewtrell OR me????🤨
⤷ mclaren 🤨🤨 or me
⤷ quadrant OR ME????
⤷ yourusername now what the hell's going on
username he looks like lance
username SOMEBODY SAID HE LOOKED LIKE LANCE💀💀😭
⤷ lancestroll that's not me...
⤷ username but how do lando looks like him
⤷ username who took this is a skinwalker
⤷ danielricciardo i waste all of my talents for this
username okay just admit now who took this
⤷ username girl no one know just let that be a mystery of the year
username she looks so good thoooo
username she looks drunk
landonorris wait how do i look like lance
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daniel3.jpg he is a boyfriend of the current motogp world champion, and still eat a canned choco cookies 🫵🏻
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landonorris i don't know why am i even liking this but CHOCO COOKIES IS GOOD CHANGE MY MIND 🙄🙄
⤷ yourusername i don't really liked the canned one but idk 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️
⤷ daniel3.jpg look she's siding with me
⤷ landonorris the BETRAYAL
⤷ username noooo y/n i thought we were something
⤷ carlossainz55 but true though tinned cookies are very dry
⤷ landonorris NOT YOU TOO 😭😭😭
⤷ username he made it looks so good though i am tempted😭
⤷ oscarpiastri it's three holes out already, is he finished it though?
⤷ danielricciardo clean. 🧽
⤷ landonorris DON'T BELIEVE HIM
username he looks cute when he's laughing
username if my granny was there, she's going to throw away the cookies and only to keep the tin
username remind me more of that pedro pascal skit on snl
fernandoalo_oficial poor little norris
username why am i hearing it in my head???
mclaren 🍪🍪
username why is he always taking his random ass picture?
⤷ username they're husband and wife do you not realize?
⤷ username the 'HUSBAND AND WIFE' part got me on the floor🫵🏻😭😭😭
username how is he always taking their cute moments
⤷ danielricciardo tell him that it's his turn to capture me and heidi's moments now
⤷ yourusername nah cause she's liking a girl riding a motorcycle more now
⤷ danielricciardo SAY SIKE
⤷ heidiberger_ 🤭
⤷ username omg babe SAME
⤷ username crazy how this is just from lando's pics
⤷ landonorris and why is it always me
username why am i still curious about why did y/n decided to have a boyfriend like him
⤷ username what do you mean?
⤷ username yeah i mean she's the first woman world champion in motogp this year and how about him? name his win in the first place.
⤷ username they both got their own advantage and disadvantage
⤷ username but does he even got jealous or smth or just uses her for fame?
⤷ username bro wdym they both are literally famous even before they're started dating.
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yourusername you're a bad influence.
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username why am i having a bad feeling here
username bad influence who now girl
username where is lando when we need him the most
⤷ username he ain't going in the liking section ⁉️⁉️❗❗😧😧😨
username NAH LANDO WHATD U DO
username but she suited car tho
username wonder who the bad influence would be... 🫢🤔
⤷ username i see mercedes here then idc
⤷ username don't make me think it's lewis
username lando boy what you do
username i see george, but i don't see lewis
⤷ username relaaaax i think the bad influence means that she's now into car
⤷ username keep being delulu darling we're all with u
⤷ username but what if
⤷ username 🫷no don't even
username convertible and the racing jacket suited her sm
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caption: stealing pecco63 spare helmet for a bit
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yourusername how's my new look? #ad
👤: hrc_motogp, repsol
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danielricciardo HOLY SHIIITT
danielricciardo i swear it's far from my radar
⤷ landonorris same honestly
username SHE HAS TATTOOS??????
username daniel's holy shit is me rn
username omg rosalia.vt he encontrado "LA" motomami de todas las motomamis.
username SHE GON BRUNETTE??
pecco63 brown looks good on you😁
⤷ yourusername they've always told me right😛
landonorris i started my day with this is a great starter
⤷ yourusername don't forget to brush your teeth!
⤷ username "DON'T FORGET TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH" AJSJWJWIS SHE'S MOTHERING HIM ALREADY 😭😭
username she is literally mother
username landonorris how about we switch gf
⤷ landonorris no thank you, i'm perfectly fine with this one😋
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landonorris i feel like a proud father 👶🏼
👤: yourusername
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username THE HAIR WAS FAKE???😭💀😭😭😭😭😭
⤷ username we all knew it's just a wig bruv
username i know she must be so exhausted like damn she look fainted
username their hand holding is so cute
username MY WHOLE LIFE IS A LIE
georgerussell63 R.I.P. repsol y/n 🪦
carlossainz55 doodle master™
⤷ yourusername 😒
⤷ landonorris i had a bad feeling about this
⤷ yourbestfriend because she's gonna get u rn
username still not get over to the fact that hot mama version of y/n is just for an ad
TWITTER
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yourusername celebratory kisses (thx maxfewtrell)
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maxfewtrell i think you should do her technique on thanking for pictures
⤷ landonorris oh c'mon i've thanked you many times 🙄
⤷ maxfewtrell yeah and many times too that you've forgotten about that
⤷ username y/n posting about her and lando's kiss after her wins, meanwhile lando and max:
⤷ username this world separated into max and lando and y/n and lando
⤷ username i'll definitely into the first one
username this one's special for their kiss only
username he is so proud of her, and this post is everything
username his interview about her is melting my arse out, i want him
username i feels like it's their hard launch
⤷ username they've been together since 2 yrs ago
username idk but i hate when media is always like "oh you're the man and why are you not having the wins like your gf did" like they should stfu for a sec
⤷ username and what's that question they throw on him like "is she younger" i mean ???
username but anyway i'm happy that they're both are happy with each other's wins and losses, the two of them truly deserves the whole world.
username they just have to accept the fact that they're just belong like that. with or without the championship.
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lando.jpg wild wind.
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caption: guess who's riding with me?
₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆。✦˚‎
taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1
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