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gojorgeous · 4 months

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

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lucy-shining-star · 1 month

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I understand post saying that blocking people is ok, you should feel more comfortable doing it, but I just can't really agree with them

#anyway is this me being angry that i can't reblog some art cause person blocked me and i think i know why they blocked me and i i think that #was because of some tags that i have decided i shouldn't write anyway?#(not even on their post on someone elses)#yes it is #also tumblr was reccomending me posts from someone who had me blocked like from april to september 2022 #(that person unblocked me at some point)#(i went then with basically liking and reblogging all of their art)#so it's not even like you don't see it #and it's frustrating #also you can just generally see it on other people's blog with tumblr reccomending it #also that person who blocked me once appeared on my activity page.#while they still had me blocked.#they liked post on my blog. that wasn't my post #though it was my ask.#but i had mention on activity which mean they probably liked my reblog (unless it was something weird with tumblr functioning)#i guess they might have liked my tags.#but my point is.#you can interact with people you blocked #without realizing that #so i dunno blocking function really sucks here #like if it worked like on twitter when you just don't see it when you look at account it says 'that account blocked you'#'you have blocked that account' 'that tweet comes from account that blocked you'#'that tweet comes from account you blocked'#i would agree with that takes but tumblr mostly makes being blocked frustrating #and if you like blocked people because of something else than pettty reasons and they already know you #then it's kind of useless cause they can still see your post #and if you did because you do not want to reblog from someone specific/like their posts when if you don't remember their username #or don't pay attention or they changed it #chance is you still might do that #...i think my point is blocking function here sucks

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tojisbbg · 9 months

Text

𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬

❝you're exciting, boy, come find me; your eyes told me, "girl, come ride me".❞

♡ geto suguru ♡

a/n: was scrolling through twitter and stumbled across yunonoai's new geto piece here. i love the roommates idea and decided to write a quick little smutfic for him ;)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

content: roommate!geto suguru x fem!reader, modern au, smut, fluff/crack, not edited.

---

"yes, satoru." geto sighed, pressing his phone to his ear before raising his shoulder to hold it in place, one of his hands filled with grocery bags while the other dug inside his pocket to fish for the house keys.

"you're so rude, suguru. it's been so long since i've talked to you, i feel like i'm gonna die from lung cancer." gojo dramatically whined on the other side of the line, making geto roll his eyes.

"i just got home from work and we literally talked last night." he deadpanned, making gojo huff in discontent.

"that's still too long." the white haired man snickered.

"gay ass." geto mumbled under his breath, finally unlocking the door as he twisted the knob to enter.

"i have a girlfriend! unlike you. you're my bro, it's always bros before hoes." gojo poetically recited, half of his words flying out of geto's other ear as the man had a long day at work.

"surprised you got one before me." he yawned, slipping out of his sneakers to slip on his house slipper. geto distanced his phone away from his ear momentarily.

"y/n, i'm home." geto announced, but there was no response heard back from you.

"hater, you're just mad that my dick is better than yours. anyways, wanna grab dinner together? i need to tell you about what happened in my morning class today, i nearly busted my lungs out from laughing." gojo offered, already laughing midway through his sentence because he's a whole clown.

"some other time, i'm gonna cook dinner for y/n tonight." geto declined, walking inside the living room, tossing his keys on the sofa.

"feed her your dick instead."

"shut the fuck up."

"y'all didn't fuck yet?"

"hanging up, talk to you later." with that being said, geto could hear gojo about to protest, but he was quick to press the red button to end his conversation with the annoying man. he set the bags of groceries down on the counter, rubbing his temple in annoyance.

geto noticed how you weren't in the living room nor in the kitchen, where he usually finds you around this time. curiosity piques his attention, walking over to your room.

as he inched closer to your door, geto could hear soft whimpers and groans exiting your room. his eyebrows knitted in confusion... until he stood in front of your closed door.

"nghh~ feel so good, suguru."

"f-fuck, just like that!"

"ahhh~ need your cock inside my pussy, sugu."

"i-i'm gonna cum!! oh my go-god!"

geto's eyes widened at the mentioning of his name slipping out of your mouth in such a lewd manner. you were masturbating to the thought of him. he could feel heat creep up to his cheeks, bringing a hand up to his face to cover his mouth as he continued to hear your moans.

"shit." geto mumbled to himself, feeling his pants tighten as a tent now formed around his crotch area. he was so fucking hard just by hearing you whine for him like a bitch in heat.

eventually, your voice died down, red alarm signals going off inside his head. geto quickly left from his spot as quietly as he could, heading back inside the kitchen.

he had a silly little plan that he wanted to execute on you.

so, he continued on with taking out the groceries, as if he heard nothing; gathering all the things he needed to make a quick home-cooked dinner tonight. a little smirk painted over his lips, hearing your door creak open before hearing your footsteps.

geto looked up, meeting your eyes, as you were startled to see the man whose name you were moaning a few minutes ago appear in your shared kitchen. he gave you a small wave before going back to his work of chopping some veggies on the cutting board, some other things already sizzling in a pot next to him.

you quickly cleared your throat, offering him a nervous smile as you played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"o-oh, you're back home so soon, sugu." you stammered out, leaning over the counter as you watched him stir the pot, his broad back turned to you as his hair was wrapped into a neat bun.

"mhm, got off of work early today to get groceries." he responded, looking back at you as he took note of your flushed face and disheveled hair.

you looked like someone just fucked your entire existence out of you.

you chewed on your bottom lip as you began to overthink, trying to recall if you'd heard the main door open during your little private session. but, your mind was absolutely fucked out during that time, only being fogged by the dirty thoughts of geto plunging his cock inside of you instead of your pathetic fingers.

oh god... did he hear you?

the thought of him catching you moaning his name while pleasuring yourself created a huge wave of shame and embarrassment, colliding straight at you as you turned even more red. geto, who was peacefully cooking, could sense your panic as his smirk grew.

"i'll be in the living room." you quietly informed, dashing out of the kitchen where he was making a heavenly concoction, the aroma of different spices already welcoming your senses.

but, unfortunately, you had bigger things to worry about than the raging appetite in your stomach.

you sat on the couch, trying to knock some self-assurance into your anxious mind. you took in a deep breath, falling into your own train of thoughts.

surely, if geto were to hear you, he'd probably feel at least a little weird about it, right? like probably give you some weird stares, side eye you or like maybe not even talk to you???

yeah, you were freaking out.

you lightly smack your cheek, bringing yourself back. you convinced yourself that geto didn't hear you, he was still chopping veggies and loading the fridge when you walked out. this meant that he had to arrive after you were done.

besides, he was acting pretty normal with you.

you sunk into the couch, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you tried to shoo away your thoughts. you've been roommates with geto for about two years now, the both of you meeting in your organic chemistry class during the first year of college.

you were still living with your parents, while he was living with his best friend, gojo. however, you soon decided that it was time for you to break away from your parents' protective shell, wanting to experience true adulthood and independence.

and for geto... well, gojo was a handful to live with, in short.

so, you both met by fate, sitting next to each other in the painfully boring and difficult class. about a month passed and you guys grew pretty close to each other, frequently partnering up for experiments and mini projects; which were done primarily over his place since gojo was barely home after sunset.

you were apartment hunting during that time, which was so hard as the rent was outrageous, especially near campus. when geto heard your little rant about it, he offered to be your roommate so that the rent wouldn't be so burdensome on you.

of course, you agreed without hesitation because the man was so incredibly nice. geto was a gentleman, every single good trait and positive word that exists in the dictionary could be used to describe his personality.

needless to say, you were not disappointed. he was clean, organized and responsible. geto paid his rent on time, did the groceries on days where it was his turn and sometimes on your days as well when he sees you stressed out. he cooks dinner for you both frequently since your cooking is very limited, if not, takeout is always there as a solution.

geto made sure to kill any bug, big or small, that threatened you; especially in the summer heat when those fuckers slipped in through the window. he was your knight in shining armor, whacking them dead with his slipper.

not to mention that it's rewarding to see such a hot man in your house every day after a depressing eight hours of lecture plus work. there was no denying the fact that geto suguru was incredibly attractive, and he was extremely popular amongst the female students as well.

on really hot summer days, you'd see him in skimpy tight tank tops, the fabric hugging his slutty narrow waist while deliciously exposing his muscular arms. his beautiful luscious black hair resting a little below his shoulder.

oh, and of course, he smelled so fucking good.

a mix of coconut from the shampoo he uses along with the scent of expensive cologne and his body wash.

with all these factors coming into play, having a silly little crush on geto suguru was quite reasonable to you.

"you feeling sick, y/n? your face seems flushed." the sudden intrusion of geto's voice awoke you from your trance, looking up at him as the man stood in front of you. he looked down at you with a concerned look, the back of his hand coming up to touch your forehead.

"hm, no fever." he concluded, eyeing you for an answer.

"oh, it's 'cause i just woke up from a nap and it was super hot in my room." you lied, making him cock an eyebrow.

"hot? it's the middle of november." geto snorted, making you mentally wince because you were slowly getting caught in your lie.

"the heater was on blast in my room." you defended, making him cross his arms over his chest as he looked like he was thinking really hard.

"weird, could've sworn i made sure to lower the temperature on the thermostat before leaving this morning. oh well." he shrugged, deciding to not pick on you anymore as he took a seat on the sofa in front of you.

you let out a sigh of relief, thanking god that he dropped his interrogation with you. your eyes followed his body, watching him plop on the sofa as he leaned back, shifting his hips forward before manspreading.

holy.

fuck.

you ogled at the sight, shamelessly eye-fucking him as your mind began to mentally strip him. almost immediately, your eyes fell on his lap, seeing the prominent bulge in his sweats. of course, geto's eyes noticed your staring, biting back a grin as his plan was working.

"you know, it's not nice to stare, sweetheart." geto playfully snickered, the petname that was directed to you sent heat between your legs, making your thighs clench together.

fuck, he made you feel so hot and bothered.

"i-i.." your words were stuck in your throats as you met his piercing onyx colored eyes, watching him give you a half-lidded smirk.

"hm? can't hear you from there, why don't you come over here and tell me." he patted his thigh, inviting you to sit on his lap. your eyes were the size of two full moons as you never expected to experience this side of geto.

either way, who were you to decline this gorgeous man's invite?

so, without hesitation, you got up from your spot and walked over to him. the both of you locked eyes, with you now standing in between his legs. geto's arms laced around your waist, pulling you down on his lap as you placed your legs on either sides.

as you pressed down against his lower half, you felt something poke your ass, making you gasp. geto chuckled, moving your hair away from your neck, exposing the skin.

"gonna help me take care of that, y/n?" geto whispered, pressing open mouth kisses on your neck, making you whimper as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you grind your hips on his hard on, earning a groan from him.

you felt his tongue swipe against your skin before feeling his teeth digging in ever so lightly, sucking the flesh. you let out a shaky breath, feeling him kiss, suck and lick all over your neck.

"s-sugu.." you stutter out, biting your lower lip to contain a shameless moan that itched to leave your throat. geto pulled away, looking up at you with lust clouded eyes. his hand grabbed the back of your head, pulling you towards his face as he crashed his lips against you.

geto could taste the sweetness of your fruity flavored lip balm, feeling his lips smoothly mold into yours. you sucked on his lower lips before giving it a soft lick, telepathically asking him to open his mouth, which he did. so, you shoved your tongue in his mouth, wet smooching sounds radiating off of you two.

he tasted like mint, so fresh and sweet. your hands cupped his face, angling your face in a way that you could kiss him deeper, his fingers dancing on your spine. you felt the wet muscle intertwine with yours, making you suck his tongue as you rubbed your clothed cunt against his bulge.

geto moaned in your mouth, the impact of your warm cunt against his painfully clothed cock sent waves of pleasure to his brain. you both soon pulled away, gasping for air as a string of saliva was connected to the both of your lips.

"can i help you with this?" you softly asked, pressing down on his cock once again, eliciting a gruff groan from him. geto looked at you, your eyes were practically pleading him, lashes innocently batting as you oh so politely asked him.

"of course you can, sweetheart." geto replied, making your heart jump to your throat as you eagerly slid out of his lap, now sitting on your knees in between his legs. with attentive eyes, he watched your hands tug down his sweats, which he helped you with.

it was adorable how impatient you were, so excited to have a taste of his cock. you've seen geto shirtless on multiple occasions, eyes always never failing to catch the deep v-lines that ran down the side of his body.

so, it meant that he definitely had a monstrously huge cock hiding in those tight calvin klein boxers.

you wasted no time in pulling down the waistband of his boxers, hand reaching in to grab his cock. however, as soon as you felt the sheer length and girth of it, unable to properly grasp it in your hand; you harshly gulped.

fuck, he was hung.

by the looks of your hesitation, geto's ego immediately jumped a whole tower up, leaning his head back against the sofa as he wrapped his arms behind his head.

you pulled his boxers down, his hard cock springing out and hitting his stomach, your eyes widening at the sight. he was huge and thick, standing no less than a good seven to eight inches in length. the tip of his cock was a cute blush color, leaking out so much precum as a single prominent vein ran on the underside of his cock.

you wrapped your hand around his cock, giving it a few teasing pumps, making him grunt as the soft flesh of your palms did wonders on him. your thumb cheekily made it's way up to his tip, circling it as the pad of your thumb became coated with his precum.

geto jolted at this sudden action, looking down at you with an expression that was so beautiful and arousing.

"f-fuck, why don't you give it a little kiss, baby." he requested, making you hum as you pressed a feather-light kiss on his tip, feeling the small bead of the wet liquid on your lips. you smirked at how his chest heaved up and down at your teasing, your tongue licking a long stripe up his vein.

"stop teasing." geto groaned, getting a little impatient. you giggled at his words, placing the tip of his cock on your tongue before wrapping your lips around it. you sucked on it a little before shoving as much of his cock as you possibly could into your mouth.

"o-oh my god.." geto's eyes screwed shut as he felt the warm encasing of your mouth around him. you began to bob your head up and down his throbbing cock, pushing him down your throat, while your hands simultaneously worked to pleasure the inches that you couldn't fit.

"mmm, just like that— being such a good girl for me." he praised, a hand coming down to encourage your movements, pushing you deeper. you gagged a few times, but that seemed to only drive him off the edge, as every time your throat contorted or tightened, it deliciously squeezed his aching cock.

you could feel tears prick at your eyes, your hands fondling with his heavy balls, giving them gentle squeezes. geto's thighs began to ever so slightly shake, small curses and whimpers exiting his plump lips as the movement of your mouth and hands quickened.

"gonna let me cum down your throat? take all of it like a good girl." his hips began to desperately buck into your mouth, one of his hands gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he thrusted into your throat. you let him throat-fuck you, your nails digging into the flesh of his thick muscular thighs.

"shit." geto swore under his breath, feeling his cock twitch inside your mouth as his vein pulsated. with the release of a guttural moan from his mouth, geto came hard and deep down your throat; as thick wads of white cum spurted out.

you made sure to swallow every single drop, licking his cock clean before giving his tip one last kiss as you pulled away. geto looked down at you while you looked up at him with a cock-drunk smile, making him smile.

his hand came down to your face, long and thick fingers wiping away your tears.

"made me feel so good, sweetheart. let me reward you, yeah?" geto sensually spoke, making your clit throb with arousal. he helped you up, once again placing you on his lap as he pulled you in for a needy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

geto's hands sneaked inside your shirt, caressing your sides as you shuddered in response to his touches. you tried to focus on the kiss, but you soon felt his hands creep up to your tits, giving them a squeeze through your bra.

"suguru!" you gasped against his lips, making him bite your lower lip.

"off." he commanded, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. you obliged obediently, pulling it over your head before throwing it on the floor. with very skillful movements, geto unhooked your bra, removing them before having it join your t-shirt on the floor.

your tits deliciously spilled out, perky nipples which were swollen from the lack of attention. geto wasted no time in taking a mouthful of your tits, sucking on the hard bud as you let out a whimper. you pulled his head closer to your chest, grinding your pussy on his cock through your shorts.

geto gently rolled your nipple between his teeth before giving it a playful bite, making you shake in his hold. he sucked the mounds of fatty flesh, making sure to leave a copious amount of purplish marks on your skin.

suddenly, he placed a hand on your back before shifting to the side, gently laying you down on one of the cushions. geto pulled down your shorts, eyes coming into contact with the wet patch on your panties.

your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, averting your gaze from him, which made him laugh.

"eager are we?" he playfully threw at you, making you whine. not pushing it any further, geto soon pulled down your panties as well, a thin line of your arousal being attached to the fabric. he threw your shorts and panties to the floor before taking in the sight of your soaking wet cunt.

"fucking hell, sweetheart, you're dripping." he commented, making you clamp your thighs shut from how bashful his vulgar words made you feel. however, geto didn't appreciate you covering up, strong hands now on your thighs as he spread them apart.

"don't be greedy, y/n. let me see, baby." geto scolded, pressing a kiss on your inner thighs, which made you yelp.

he wasted no time in giving your clit a feather-light stroke, making your thighs twitch from the sudden stimulation. geto liked that reaction, now using his thumb and middle finger to spread your wet folds open. he had to gather some self-control to not shove his face into your cunt.

"so fucking pretty." he complimented, gawking at your puffy cunt and swollen clit, giving it away that you indeed played with yourself moments before. you were so wet for him, it was absolutely ridiculous, your hole clenching on nothing as it leaked more of your juices.

"do something, sugu. need you so bad." you begged, bucking your hips up to feel more of his fingers. he snickered at your actions, landing a wet slap on your clit, making you whimper.

"good girls get what they want. so, be a good girl and be patient while i admire you, 'kay?" geto shortly lectured, making you softly protest at his constant teasing, needing to feel some part of him on your body.

the man watched you squirm and softly grunt with a contented grin on his lips, seeing how your thighs threatened to close every few minutes from his light touches. however, geto wasn't that mean and he's practically been dreaming of this moment ever since he’s met you.

and after what he heard earlier today? oh no, baby, he's gonna make sure to memorize every detail of your pussy today.

geto slid his middle finger between your folds, slowly rubbing it up and down, the tip of his finger nudging your clit once he dragged his digit back up. your breath hitched, hands flying to the back of your head to grip the cushion.

"tch, that's all you're gonna give me? you weren't so shy about being vocal earlier." geto scoffed, making your eyes widen as you looked at him with a shocked expression. he smirked, rubbing your clit in a quickened circular motion, making your brain stop working as you completely forgot about what he just told you, eyes screwing shut as you choked out a moan.

"fuck, suguru!" you cried out his name, breathing heavy as geto continued to stimulate the sensitive bundle of nerves, his free hand coming up to pinch your nipples and squeeze your tits.

"mhm, there you go. but, i gotta hear more from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart." with that being said, geto dragged his finger down to your needy hole, prodding it open.

you felt him enter his middle finger, groaning as it was longer and thicker than yours. geto began to thrust his finger in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, watching you fidget. he soon added a second finger, the stretch of his thick digits was too much as it made all the wires in your brain fuse.

"nghh~, s-shit, feels so good!" you cried out, feeling him scissor his fingers back and forth into your wet cunt. he suddenly plunged in a third finger, making you choke on your moans as they began to rub your tight walls.

"yeah? taking my fingers so well." he whispered, moving his body up, slotting himself between your legs while his fingers never faltered. geto captured your lips in a sloppy kiss, while you whimpered against his lips.

he moved his head down, taking your tits in his mouth once again as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you. you babbled random things, eyes rolling back as you felt the familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach. your walls clamped down on his fingers, making geto grunt at the sudden squeeze on his fingers.

"such a naughty girl, you are, y/n. playing with this pretty pussy of yours while moaning my name when i'm not around." geto's voice was laced with faux sympathy, the squelching wet sounds of your cunt was like music to his ears, encouraging him to plunge his digits deeper and faster; hitting your g-spot.

"hnghh, g-gonna cum!" you squealed, hands coming up to squeeze his biceps, eyes pooling with tears as you could feel your brain becoming rewired. his palm rubbed against your clit while his fingers abused your hole, completely fucking out your senses as your brain became mush.

your throat released the most pornographic moan ever, clenching onto his fingers as you came hard on them. geto could feel your hole twitch and pulsate, your creamy cum dripping down his fingers and down your inner thighs onto the sofa.

"better than these, right?" he teased, using his free hand to bring your fingers to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on them. you nodded your head, not even comprehending what the fuck he just told you as you tried to calm down from your intense orgasm.

geto pulled his fingers out, making you wince as your hole felt empty. he shoved his cum soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean as you watched the lewd sight of him eating your cum.

"so sweet." geto grinned, seeing you pant and flush into a deep red.

"sugu... p-please, hmphh—" you were cutoff by the sudden kiss, his lips smooching yours pretty noisily, coating them with his spit.

"what you need, sweetheart?" he whispered against your lips, tugging them between his teeth.

"need your cock in me, please." you breathed heavily against his lips, looking up at him with pleading lust glowing eyes. geto smiled against your plump flesh, sitting up on the sofa before pulling you up along with him.

"help yourself then." geto gave you the cue, helping you straddle his lap once again. you sat your bare cunt right on top of his hard cock, as it slipped between your folds, the warm leaky tip brushing against your clit. a soft whimper left your lips, eyes looking down at the porn-worthy sight.

you realized that his t-shirt was still on, pouting as you tugged the hem of it. geto cocked an eyebrow, feeling the fabric being yanked.

"off." you blurted out, the same way he did when undressing you. this made geto laugh, looking at you with teasing, narrowed eyes as he stroked your cheeks.

"so demanding." he playfully sneered, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding it with the rest of the pile of your mixed clothes on the floor. you placed your shaky hands on his shoulders before tracing his defined collarbones.

you moved down to his chest, intentionally brushing over his nipples, which made him shudder from the sensitivity. curious eyes shamelessly roamed around his upper body, seeing the well-sculpted abs he had from working out multiple times a week.

"like what you see?" geto playfully asked, making you scoff.

"like what i see? i'm trying so hard to not eat you right now." you grumbled, attaching your lips back onto his, muffling out his chuckle. you teasingly pinched his nipples to evoke a reaction, and you weren't left disappointed as he jolted, whimpering in your mouth.

you slightly opened your eyes, seeing from the corner of your eyes how his face was turning red from embarrassment.

"you're so adorable, suguru." you giggled, making him tsk as he landed a tight slap on your ass, making you yelp.

"yeah? tell me that when i'm sending you to poundtown." he countered your words, making you roll your eyes with a snort at the comment.

"looking forward to it, sugu." you said in a flirty tone, sending a wink towards his way, making geto's heart thud against his chest. you dug your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin as you began to mark it with hickeys.

you could feel his pulse point throb, lightly grazing your teeth against it, making him let out a heavy breath.

"you little minx." he grunted, arms kneading your ass before giving it a few slaps as a punishment, making you moan. his actions made you pout, wanting payback.

you began to slide your hips back and forth on him, feeling his hard cock easily slide between your wet folds. you trembled in his hold, feeling the grip on your waist tighten as you did this a few more times. the lewd wet sound of his girthy cock rubbing your dripping cunt made you even more aroused, his tip bumping into your clit, making you whine.

"hmm, i could cum from this." you shamelessly admitted, grinding yourself harder on him, watching geto bite his lower lip to suppress a moan. this annoyed you as you wanted him to be vocal, pressing your lips on his before shoving your tongue in his mouth, swallowing his moans as you glided your sopping wet cunt over his throbbing cock.

"stop.. i wanna cum inside you." geto said in between his breaths, forcefully stopping your waist as soon as his tip rested on your hole. he looked at you with a dazed look, his large hand coming up to brush your hair away from your neck.

"gonna let me feel you, sweetheart? pretty please?" he said in a low voice, kissing your collarbones before moving up to your neck.

"y-yeah.." you stuttered out, no longer being able to handle this game of teasing anymore. you raised your hips a little, taking a hold of the shaft of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole.

you began to lower yourself on him, slowly entering his fat tip in, your eyes shutting tight as you winced in pain from the sting. geto held onto your waist as support, his fingers gently rubbing your sides.

"there you go, easy, baby." he encouraged you, words being chased by a gruff grunt as you managed to shove a third of his cock inside of you. you could feel your knees slightly shaking, breathing heavily as you gripped onto his shoulder tightly to support yourself.

"need some help?" he gently murmured against your neck, eyes peering up to see tears forming in your eyes as you struggled to take in his cock. you nodded your head, making him hum in acknowledgement. geto sneaked a hand between the both of your bodies, the pad of his thumb stroking your clit.

the sudden mix of the pleasure from stimulating your clit along with the stinging pain of his cock bullying into your hole made your body shake. geto could feel your hole start to relax a little, using the arm around your waist to gently push you down as he continued to play with your clit.

"t-too much, it's too much!" your breath hitched, feeling yourself sinking in a few more inches of his lengthy cock. his mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking on the swollen bud, while his thumb continued to pleasure the tiny bundle of sensitive nerves between your legs.

"nghh~, f-fuck.." you let out a long moan, finally shoving in the last few inches of his cock, completely bottoming out. geto let out a guttural moan, throwing his head back on the sofa, as you both stayed like that for a minute.

"shit, baby, y-you're squeezing me so tight." geto choked out, while you tried to adjust to the stretch of his cock. you slouched your body forwards, hugging him tight as you craved for more skin-to-skin contact with him. geto happily accepted, firmly wrapping his arms around you as his hands stroked your back as you both breathed in each other's scent, molding into each other's body.

"feel so full, sugu, you're so big." you chuckled, laying your head on his shoulder as you pressed tender kisses on his jaw and chin. geto hummed, a proud grin painted on his lips as you stroked his ego.

"is that so?" he turned his head to the side, kissing your forehead. you began to slowly rock your hips, as geto progressed to shallow upward thrusts; the both of you letting out a blissful moan in sync.

you decided to completely lift yourself off of his, only his tip remaining inside you before slamming down on him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. geto looked at you with half-lidded eyes, jaw wide open, as he moaned shamelessly at the tight grip of your dripping cunt.

you adjusted to the size of him, beginning to bounce on his cock while holding onto his chest for support. geto squeezed your ass before giving it a spank, making you squeak.

"fuck, feels so good!" you cried out, feeling your knees burn as your hips went up and down on his dick, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time you pushed down. geto pulled you in closer, watching your tits bounce in front of him before capturing one of them in his mouth, sucking harshly.

you cried out in pleasure, beads of sweat beginning to form on your temples as it dripped down the sides of your face. your eyes fell down, watching where you both were connected, seeing how your pussy swallowed his entire cock in one swift motion.

your juices were dripping down on his shaft, wetting his balls and the fabric of the couch below you guys. the vein that decorated the underside of his cock deliciously grazed against your walls.

the living room was filled with heavy breathing, wet skin slapping, the shlick and squelching sounds of your drooling pussy colliding with his cock; along with the mix of moans and curses.

geto released your now swollen nipple from his mouth, his drool coating the bud as he looked at you, completely pussy drunk.

"you don't know how hard it was to resist you. u-ughh, had to fuck my fist to the thought of you every night." geto confessed, making you imagine the picture of him laying on his bed with his legs spread open like a whore, fisting his hard dick while moaning your name.

this alone made your pussy flutter, unintentionally making you squeeze him; earning a gruff groan from the man.

"you liked hearing that, didn't you? dirty girl." he let out a breathy laugh, making you frown as you grew embarrassed at how your body betrayed you.

"shut up, you talk too much." you grumbled before shoving your nipple back in his mouth to hush him and save whatever dignity you had left remaining. geto smirked, playfully giving your nipple a bite.

"suguru!" you yelp as you smacked his upper arm. as an apology, geto swirled his tongue around the bud, pinching the other neglected nipple as he fondled with both of your tits equally.

you could feel heat slowly building up in your lower stomach, that knot tightening feeling once again returning as your thighs began to tremble while you bounced on his cock. geto noticed your struggle, deciding to help you out as he grabbed a hold of your waist, still suckling on your nipple.

suddenly, he began to thrust upwards, his pelvis meeting your clit each time you bounced down on him. the impact of his action made your eyes roll back, feeling your orgasm draw in closer. your hand reached for your clit, rubbing it fast as geto began to increase his pace in thrusting his cock into you as you rode him.

"fuck! g-gonna cum! oh my god— hnnghh, i-i.." your voice died down, mind completely fucked out as you began to babble random shit while geto pounded into your cunt. a ring of cream began to form at the base of his cock, your pussy so incredibly wet that it was easy for him to slide in and out with no problem.

"fucked you dumb already? you're so needy." geto mumbled against your tits as they smothered him while you tried to chase your orgasm. your shaky hand reached behind his head, smoothly pulling off the hair tie that kept his hair in a bun.

you watched his ebony locks fall on his shoulder, nearly cumming right then and there at the sight of him.

god, he looked so babygirl.

geto's face was completely flushed, swollen lips suckling on your nipples, hair tousled, and sweat dripping down his face as his eyes were closed shut.

your fingers found home in his hair, tangling with the smooth locks as you pushed him closer to your chest, bouncing on his cock while he thrusted upwards in you.

geto felt your pussy twitch and squeeze around him, indicating that you were gonna cum soon. so, he made sure that his movements remained sharp and fast; plowing into your messy cunt, his balls were completely coated with your slick as they slapped against your ass.

"make a mess on me, sweetheart." he said, not sure if you were able to hear him from how fucked out you were. but, you didn't need to hear him as with a loud moan being ripped out of your throat, the intense stimulation on your clit and nipple along with the harsh pistoning of his cock into your cunt made you gush around him.

geto let out a soft whimper, feeling the warmth of your juices leaking down on his shaft. with a few more desperate thrusts as his tip brushes against your cervix, he came deep into your pussy. you shuddered at the feeling of his thick cum painting your walls, as he dumped in a huge load inside.

you both were a moaning mess, breathing heavily as your mixed fluids began to messily trickle down his cock. geto released your nipple from his mouth with a 'pop', looking at you through his fuzzy vision.

he noticed the dried streaks of your tears on your cheeks, the corner of your mouth with drool. you tugged on his hair, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss full of tongue and the sound of teeth clashing, riding out your highs with small thrusts.

you sucked on his lower lip before releasing it, pressing one last soft kiss on his lips before pulling away. you looked at him in a daze, pushing away the single messy bangs that covered his eye.

with his cock still plunged deep inside you, you hugged him while resting your head on his shoulder; trying to cool down from your orgasm and catch your breath.

"you okay, sweetheart?" geto asked softly, his fingers coming up to your cheek to stroke the burning hot flesh. you hummed with a nod.

"yeah. you feel so warm, sugu. don't wanna let go." you mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on his pulse point. geto decided to indulge into you, wrapping his arms around you as he held you close, both of your heartbeats synchronizing.

"we should clean up soon, it's well past dinner time." he deeply chuckled, making you sigh.

"okay." you responded, picking your head up before leaning in to give him one last kiss. geto looked at you with playful eyes as you gave him a shy smile.

oh yeah, his plan worked out perfectly.

---

"mmm, this tastes so good, sugu!" you gasped, trying to speak with your mouth full, as you praised the taste of his food. geto made one of your favorite dishes, coconut shrimp curry with rice; his culinary skills were seriously no joke.

"hm, make sure to eat up then." geto chuckled, ruffling your hair before taking a bite out of his own plate. you both ate peacefully, talking about each other’s day along with making jokes here and there; as if he didn't rearrange your guts like twenty minutes ago.

"y/n?" he suddenly called out, making you look up at him with anticipating eyes.

"hm?" you hummed in response. you watched him clear his throat before playing with the shrimp on his plate with his chopsticks.

"i didn't want that to be like a one time thing between you and me. the thing is— i've liked you for a while now." geto confessed, making you nearly choke on your mouthful as you quickly chewed on your food, swallowing it.

"i like you too, sugu. although, i thought i was being pretty obvious." you sheepishly smiled, averting your gaze away from him as you grew shy.

"i guess i was being a little dumb. but, masturbating while moaning my name was definitely a game changing sign!" he teased, watching your nostrils flare up in embarrassment as your cheeks now became tinted with a soft blush.

"suguru!" you threw a balled up napkin towards him, making him burst out into a fit of laughter.

"i'm kidding! but, i won't lie, that shit made me so hard." geto casually stated, making you drop your eyes to the table.

"god, how much did you hear?" you gasped, growing a little worried. geto grabbed his chin, pretending to think hard.

"hmm, let's see. up till the part where you were like nghh~ need your cock inside my pussy, sugu! oh my god, i'm gonna cum!" he imitated your moans in an obnoxiously high-pitched voice, making you cover your face in embarrassment. geto let out a quick laugh at the sight, making you pout.

"damn, can't even fuck myself in peace." you mumbled to yourself, making him snort.

"well, now you can fuck me instead." geto nonchalantly replied with a smirk, making you choke on your food.

"god, you're so shameless!"

"i was being straightforward."

"whatever." you sighed out, rolling your eyes.

"go on a date with me this friday to the carnival." he suddenly offered, his smirk now replaced with a warm smile. your heart fluttered, feeling it stuck in your throat as your lips curled upwards.

"i'd love that." you accepted, and the both of you continued to finish up dinner.

since geto cooked for you both, you insisted on doing the dishes in return, although he tried to convince you that he had it covered. nonetheless, you were pretty stubborn, and geto decided to step away and let you clean up.

he made his way to the living room, sitting on the sofa as he grabbed his phone, clicking on the second person on his favorited contact list. geto waited patiently as he fixed his hair on the camera and after two rings, he finally picked up.

"you call me at the absolutely worst times, suguru. i'm literally about to dick down my girlfriend." gojo whined on the other side of the line, a frown tugging on his lips, making geto roll his eyes at his best friend's complaint.

"let's grab dinner tomorrow. i got something to tell you." geto smirked, and as if gojo telepathically knew what his best friend was gonna tell him, the white haired male gasped.

"no fucking way!"

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beiasluv · 6 months

Text

don’t you ever grow up | l. norris (4)

yourinsta’s story | landonorris’s story

maxfewtrell’s story

landonorris: you didn’t have to fact check me mate.

: no one or carlos is buying it mate, we know you’re just making excuses to spend time with yn

landonorris: not necessary to point out, at all 🙄

: of course

yourinsta: drive safely 😬

: he definitely arrived in one piece

yourinsta: good. McLaren still needs him.

: and you too?

message was not sent

: right away 🫡

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 25,926 others

f1gossips following the appearance of her son in the instagram story of landonorris, yn ln was spotted in the mclaren garage this morning.

credit to the video owner on twitter

view all 8,619 comments

username MOTHER (literally) is back in town

username Zak rn: 🧍‍♂️

username NO cause literally everytime she’s back in the paddock the whole team starts to work again 😭

username petition for yn to stay the whole season rn

username I miss archie with danny ric 😔✊

username IKR danny raised my boy

username NAH DONT DISCREDIT LANDO

username lando was the best uncle, fight me 🤷‍♂️

username i would never forgive what mclaren did to daniel ric, fight me 🤷‍♀️

username I’m sure Oscar’s going to be a great uncle as well 😔

username Y’ALL SEEN MAX FACT CHECKING LANDO? 😭

username rizz up that baby mommy‼️‼️

username carlos, once again, the scapegoat

username new here, Archie’s her son??

username yep. I’m guessing that she’s a single mom, we don’t know who the dad is

username she don’t need no man, SLAYYY

yourinsta

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 281,146 others

yourinsta congratulations to both of you!! the team is proud of you guys! honored to finally witness it first hand this time!! landonorris oscarpiastri 🧡🙌

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oscarpiastri thank you! 👊 back to you

liked by yourinsta

landonorris thank you! 🍀🧡

username WHAT DID I FUCKING TOLD YOU?

username PETITION TO MOVE YN TO GARAGE FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON

username y’all are delusionalll the cars were meant for susuka

username DONTT CAREEE

username clover leaf. not slick LANDO

username ‘lucky charm’ my ASS

yourinsta

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 95,267 others

yourinsta thank you uncle lando!!

view all 26,972 comments

landonorris anything for the favorite driver title! 👊

danielricciardo not fair, I brought him snacks

yourinsta so it WAS you

danielricciardo maybe 😬

mclaren favourite boy on the grid!!

liked by yourinsta

username I LITERALLY SAW HIM TODAY WITH YN!! too cute 😩

username HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMM

username girly I would pay anything to be archie

username anyone coming back to this post after her sighting today 😭

username me 😔✊

username he grew up too fast

username I can’t BELIEVE that this was already one year ago

username ARCHIE STOP GROWING 😭

1 year ago

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 286,620 others

landonorris drivers by day, professional babysitters for life 👊

view all 107,269 comments

yourinsta thank you guys! dinner’s on me 🫡

landonorris anytime!

danielricciardo when’s the next time?

maxverstappen see you at p’s birthday 👊

carlossainz55 I have presents from spain 😄

yourinsta miss calos! -arch

yourinsta thankie!

liked by carlossainz55

username shut upp 😭😭 archie and p are best friends??

username i think they got to know each other through lando

username SHUT UP that’s fucking adorable my heart 😔😩

username it’s probably because they’ve spent so much time together at the paddock 😔🥺

username kudos to lando and everyone respecting yn’s decision to keep archie private

username i WOULD literally show off my son if he has lando, daniel and the whole grid as his uncles

username she’s protecting her child 🤷‍♀️

username ikr people. she’s not exploiting her child

yourinsta’s story

yourinsta

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 102,971 others

yourinsta summer break!

view all 26,071 comments

danielricciardo how’s arch doing! love from aus!

yourinsta hi danny! miss you! -arch

danielricciardo aw bud! miss you too! tim tams are on their way!

yourinsta i love you but i cannot go through the Tim tams phase for breakfast, lunch and dinner again 😭

danielricciardo one pack? 🥺

yourinsta fine😔

charles_leclerc nice to see you in monaco! maman looks forward to see you both again soon!

yourinsta thank you! it was nice meeting her, glad she loved arch 😊

username I AM SO JEALOUS OF ARCHIE WHAT?? HE KNOWS THE LECLERC AS WELL 😭

username SO NO ONE is talking about her story.

username lando, you’re acting fishy ASF

username the flowers, even inviting her to monaco for the summer break? yeah, that’s obviously what drivers and their engineers do right?? 😩

username MAX tell us something WE DONT KNOW

username he thought he was slick by giving the flowers though archie huhhh? well played, lando

username I feel bad asf for oscar 😭

username shut UP oscar definitely ships them so bad

username EVERYTIME she appears in McLaren challenge, oscar just exits 😭

username lando, this is your warning cus yn is for the girls ‼️‼️

username IKR?? she has been slaying as a icon for so long, and I can’t handle the thought of her being with lando 😭😭

username let her be happy with who she wants? PEOPLE

username he is no longer going to be ‘uncle’ lando 😭😔

username GOOD DAY FOR ME 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I’m sure they are mature enough 🤷‍♀️ she has been through archie's dad before. miss girl should know what she wants

username PREACH BESTIE

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 384,281 others

lando.png back to the seas 👊 yourinsta

view all 96,281 comments

yourinsta thanks for babysitting! 🤭

lando.png always 🙌

username he didn’t even bother to tag max and his friends LMAOOOO

username he’s got his priorities straight

username when’s the hard launch bestie.

username it’s coming, bestie, I COULD FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING BRAIN

username delulu is THE solulu, PREACHHH

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen and 986,267 others

landonorris sorry guys :)

view all 320,159 comments

carlossainz55 congratulations, mate 👊

username A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR THE SCAPEGOAT

yall ate the poll uppppp 🥺🫶🤪 slayed

if you liked it, interactions and COMMENTS would be appreciated!! if not, then yolo ig.

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

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viennakarma · 5 months

Text

Drunk calls

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You're drunk on your night out and accidentally call your boss, Fernando.

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: Female reader, drunk reader, fluff, Nando comforting reader, boss x employee relationship, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: Anon requested drunk reader and sober nano, so i just ran with it and wrote a little something while on hangover from the new year party. (Also that ONE pic George Russell posted of him and Nando!!!!)

Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Find me on Twitter!

As you left the toilet, you felt your legs wobbly as you supported yourself on the wall. You had been clubbing with your friends for a couple of hours now, but a few minutes ago you couldn’t find them, and you looked all around.

Pulling your phone from your purse, you called your bestie to try and find out where she was. As soon as she picked up, you started talking.

“Hi, Hanna! Where are-” You hiccuped, “where are you? I think I’m too drunk now, I can’t find you or the girls, and my head is pounding already, and I can’t walk straight.”

“Y/N?” A male voice asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” You frowned.

“It’s Fernando, you just called me,” he said and you turned your phone seeing that you had actually called him instead of your friend.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, boss!” You said and immediately hung up.

Fuck, you drunk called your boss on your day off. That was most certainly grounds for a reprimand. You had been working as his assistant for almost a year now, and had only been super professional and dedicated to doing your work. You and Fernando had been friendly and settled into a great work dynamic. So accidentally calling him like this would probably cause problems for you.

You didn’t even have time or energy to blame yourself too long as your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Fernando. You immediately hit decline. But barely a second later he called you again. Shit, he probably would tear you a new one. You hit decline again. You started sweating, god, you needed to go home, you needed to eat and you needed to plan a big apology for the next time you see your boss again.

Then two texts appeared coming from Fernando.

“Where are you?” “Pick up the call”

And then he called you again, and you picked it up this time preparing for him to go off on you.

“Where are you?” He breathed loudly.

“I’m at a club with my friends,” you stuttered a little bit, both because of the alcohol and because you were worried he might fire you on the spot.

“You said you lost them. Have you found your friends?”

“No, not really. But it’s okay, I’m gonna go home already!” You hoped you were sounding a little bit more confident.

“How?”

“What?”

“How are you going to go home?” He asked, voice serious.

“I’m gonna call a cab or something. Don’t worry!” Please, sound sober, please sound sober.

“Send me the address, I’m gonna pick you up.”

“No, no! It’s your day off too, you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine! Really, I promise I’m going straight home right-”

“I wasn’t asking. Send the address.” He cut you off and hung up.

Cursing and sweating, you sent him your location, walking slowly to the exit, still trying to locate your friends. As you made it outside, you leaned against the wall, feeling a little better with the fresh gust of wind outside the packed club. You flexed your knees because your heels were feeling like a fucking thousand needles punching the sole of your feet. You should listen to your younger sister and start wearing sneakers to the club.

After a few minutes, you saw a scandalous rich man’s car pulling up and you knew it’s Fernando. He stopped by the sidewalk and came walking to you. He was wearing slacks and a white button up, simple but classy. You had seen in his schedule before that he was going to go out with friends for dinner. So that’s probably where he came from.

He didn’t look too pissed at you but he didn’t look happy either, his face was rather neutral.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he stopped in front of you. He was holding a water bottle, which he promptly opened and gave to you.

“I have been better, not gonna lie,” you said, and proceeded to drink almost the whole bottle of water.

“Why are you flexing your knees?” He asked.

“Because the heels are killing me.”

Silently, Fernando knelt in front of you and unbuckled the straps of your heels around your ankles.

“Off, now” he said, patting your calves, then offering you a hand so you could step out of the shoes.

“Jesus, thank you,” you mumbled, relieved to be barefoot finally, “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to pick me up.”

“I’m here already, quit whining,” he dismissed you, holding your forearm, “can you walk to the car?”

“Just give me a hand,” you asked, still a little unbalanced. You jolted a little when you felt Fernando’s hands on your thighs but he didn't touch you, he just pulled the hem of your dress down, since it was dangerously close to showing too much and maybe accidentally flashing everyone.

Fernando circled an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his side, keeping you standing all the way to his car, holding your heels with the other hand. You looked to the side of his face, and you were suddenly hit with the realization that Fernando is really, really attractive.

“Damn, you’re handsome!”

It honestly slipped past your lips and you felt your cheeks warm up, embarrassed for saying that out loud, but Fernando only laughed a little, and kept walking you to his car, only stopping to open the door and put you in the passenger seat.

As you took the seat, he stared at your face, trying to catch any signs of something in your face. You blinked, staring into his beautiful greeny brown eyes, and he just huffed, pulling the seat belt and locking it around you.

When he finally started driving, the silence deafening, you looked at his side profile.

“Are you upset? I’m sorry! I promise I’ll behave.”

“I’m not upset. Though I will be a little annoyed if you throw up in my Aston Martin,” he said with a small smile.

“No throwing up happening anytime soon!” You raised your hand, held it in a cross and kissed it, “I’m actually really hungry”

Fernando clicked his tongue and reached for the backseat with one hand, pulling a Burger King brown bag. You smelled the food and you smiled.

“Oh my god! You’re a savior!” You opened the bag, which had your favorite burger and big sized fries, “this is my favorite!”

You ate quietly for a couple of minutes then a thought hit you.

“How do you know I like eating Burger King after getting drunk?” You said, and Fernando looked at you, opened the glove box and handed you a tissue.

“I know you well,” was all he said. He ended up driving you to his place, and you decided to question it.

“Why did you drive me here?” You walked in, sitting on the couch.

“What do you mean?” He looked confused.

“Ugh, never mind!” You stood up but the quick movement made you stumble and Fernando quickly held you in place.

“Careful!” He put both hands on your waist, in a way that felt very intimate.

You turned to face him, and he smiled softly, his hand now on your lower back. Then, you touched his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.

“I like your eyebrows.”

“Gracias.”

“And your beard too,” you cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm.

“Vamos, you need a shower,” he carefully walked you up the stairs and then inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom.

Fernando turned you around and pulled down the zipper on your back. You gasped, holding the dress in place and turning to face him.

“You can’t undress me!”

He turned around, laughing.

“Ok, get in the shower and I’ll get you some clothes, eh?”

You showered, and when you left, a towel around your body, Fernando had left a small pile of clothes inside. There was a big t-shirt and sports shorts that you dressed. He also left you a toothbrush, which seemed very thoughtful of him.

When you walked back to the room, Fernando had changed into comfy clothes, and he was waiting for you sitting on the bed.

“Are you sobering up?” He asked.

And you just nodded, sleepy, crawling into his lap and snuggling into his chest, pressing your nose to his neck.

“Yup.”

“Then you remember who I am?”

“You’re Fernando!” He laughed a little, kissing the top of your head.

“No, amor,” he leaned back, cradling your face with one hand, and pulling your right hand with the other, “I’m your fiancé.”

Wide eyed, you stared at the big diamond ring in your finger. Then, you finally remembered, your fiancé, your beloved Nano. Who had been your boss sometime two years ago, and you resigned when you realized you had feelings for him. In the end, he had gone after you because he harbored the same feelings for you.

You ended up laughing out loud, so hard that there were tears in your eyes.

“God, I’m never drinking again!”

“It’s cute that you forgot like this,” he laughed too.

You held his face, kissing him softly. His hand ran up your back, under your shirt. You wanted more, trying to deepen the kiss, but he just held you back.

“Sleep now, eh? Tomorrow I will wake you up with besos.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso

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bogleech · 9 months

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It actually isn't just the one crazy "herbivorize all predators" guy. There appears to be a growing movement of newfangled hyper-vegan animal rights radicals who believe that all animals suffer in nature and therefore we should just eliminate nature to save them, which they hope will be possible through biotech.

There's hundreds of them in one twitter thread alone and they can't all be trolls, some of them have careers in STEM or published writing. I don't care how impossible their idea is, this is something we're probably going to see keep growing, and their biotech utopia fantasy may be impossible, but they're already floating ideas to just plain cull predators the old fashioned way. It is not at all unbelievable that one of these freaks will eventually try to poison all the coyotes in their area with "contraceptives" or start trapping and "humanely euthanizing" raptors in one public park, and that's just the damage they can do before some idiot billionaire joins their cult.

This is probably going to be a "thing" in the years to come whether we like it or not.

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lalal-99 · 2 months

Text

Professionally Pretty Baby {l.f.}

Felix x afab!reader | trope: established relationship | smut | wordcount: 1.5k

Synopsis: When Felix is insecure about running the catwalk for the first time, you decide to distract him. By forcing him to narrate compliments from Twitter while you go to town on him.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: This is so heavily inspired by our favourite Prince Felix walking the Louis Vuitton runway. Also by this Seungmin story by @skzms It's been quite a week, alright...

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people.

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Lee Felix has been g— God!— gifted a once in a life— lifetime face card.”

“Read another one, baby!”

“I don’t know this man, but he truly belongs…” Felix throws his head back and you pull away. He understands your threat, so after a deep, shaky breath, he finishes the sentence. “… belongs on the runway.”

And you continue.

That’s how the past twenty minutes have been going. With Felix, narrating your Twitter feed to you while you have him in your mouth. Sucking. Licking. Like the god-damn goddess you are.

You were playing with him the whole after party. In secrecy, hidden away while stealing heated kisses in unsupervised backrooms. Groping him through his jeans which he was filling out in no time. You’ve even given his ass a few squeezes when no one was looking, riling him up as much as possible. A welcome ego-booster after he was on edge the whole morning. Anxious about his first runway show.

It started with Felix tossing and turning all night, not getting a whiff of sleep. He couldn’t eat breakfast, his nerves running so high he thought he’d throw up. On the way to the show, your hand was placed on his thigh, urging his leg to stop bouncing in quick tremors. And even as he was getting dressed—honoured by being the leading model to close the show—he was so pale.

Nothing you did seemed to help Felix relax, two of his fingers constantly at his neck to check his pulse. You had never seen him more concerned in your life.

Turns out, all the worrying was for nothing.

As you watched him strut the runway as though he was born to do it, pride and arousal took over your frame. If it weren’t for all the innocent bystanders, you would have jumped Felix the moment he returned backstage. It was then that you decided to reward him with your unfiltered attention once you got him to yourself.

By the time you entered your hotel room, he was so hard already, it was difficult to get him out of his tight denim pants. All the more are you enjoying him now, like a pretty present you had to unpack before being able to play with.

“Another one.”

You swirl your tongue around his tip, making him whimper as he involuntarily scrolls further down the feed.

“He looks so good, I want to suck him dry.”

That’s the comment that gave you the idea. You remember reading it on the way to the after party, his hand resting on your thigh while he looked out the limousine’s window. A dangerous smirk appeared on your lips as you tongued the inside of your cheek. Felix ever the oblivious victim of your arousal.

“How about you just keep ‘em coming. Gives me more freedom to do this,” you explain as you cup his balls in your hand. It sends a shutter right through his shape, ending in a pink sheen on both his cheeks. Not so pale anymore, is he?

“Korea’s favourite prince.”

You hum around him in agreement, and he groans at the vibration.

“The most cuntiest walk to ever be walked.”

You’re deep-throating him now, fingers digging into his thighs and leaving red marks.

“Please, baby. I can’t keep reading these. I need to concentrate on you,” Felix whines, free hand coming to your head, guiding you.

But this isn’t the deal. He’s supposed to let go of any and every doubt he has. About his looks, his abilities to present the clothes as intended, his way of walking. Call it reverse psychology, but if his girlfriend worshiping his dick while he reads through tweets calling him ‘handsome’, ‘perfect’ and ‘god’ doesn’t do it… nothing would.

“I can’t even look you in the eyes while reading these.”

With that he throws your phone to the side, hips bucking into your grip. You’re jerking him in gentle, maddening strokes as you come up to sit in his lap. He’s completely naked while you’re still in your dress. Only your boobs roam free for an even prettier view from where he’s been sitting. Over you, leaning back against the headrest of the hotel couch.

As you come eye-to-eye, his hands reach around you, groping your ass. Your skirt slides further up your thighs, revealing what’s beneath. Or rather, what isn’t.

When Felix realises you’ve been going commando all evening, he licks his lips, moaning. “You’re unreal.”

“No, you’re unreal,” you correct him, pressing your lips against his neck. Since his head is still rolled against the backrest, you have free access to any part of his throat. Your tongue darts out to lick over his pulse-point. “I mean, I already knew you were pretty. My pretty baby. But now…”

The speed of your strokes picks up and Felix squeezes your cheeks harder. He’s close, you can tell from the twitch in his cock and his constant need to swallow. With glazed eyes he watches as you position him at your entrance, your wetness wrapping around his head.

“You’re my professionally pretty baby.”

As the words reach his brain, you slide onto him, your folds swallowing him whole. Immediately, he starts guiding your hips around himself, but you swat them away. Instead, you steer them to where your dress bunches up. Between the display of your tits and your pussy, engulfing him in a delicious hug.

He doesn’t know where to look, eyes ping-ponging between your most grabable areas. All of which he’s not allowed to grab. Or caress or tease or simply touch. A true tragedy if he’s ever seen one.

Felix only realises that you’ve picked up your phone again when you push it into his hands. “Go on. Earn it!”

And he’s trying so hard. “Lee Felix is what angels think they look like when they’re entering heaven.” You squeeze him, earning a shaky breath. “I’d survive off of drinking nothing but him.” You agree with a nod, leaning back to tilt the angle. You’re holding yourself up with your arms on his thighs, giving him the best view he could ask for. “Put— Fuck!— Put your babies inside me, sir.”

“Who wrote that one?” you question much to his surprise.

“What?”

“Tell me who wrote the last one.”

You watch as he focuses his gaze onto the small display as though it is planets away. “It’s— It was—” Shaking his head, he snaps out of his haze momentarily, only to look up at you once he realises. “You?”

Smiling at him, you notice the flash inside his irises, telling you exactly what those words do to him. The tightening of his abs doesn’t go by you either. The mere thought of getting you pregnant gets him going so much, you’re thrown onto the couch not seconds later. As he plunges back inside you with all his force, you clench around him, spurring him on.

“Come inside me, baby. I know you want to,” you whisper into his ear as he shudders with his approaching release. He knows you’re on birth control. But even just the trajectory of you carrying his children has him going in overdrive. It doesn’t take much more to have him paint your walls snow white like the colour of his bleached locks. “Fill me up. Breed me, baby.”

Later when you’re laying in bed, breathless from the countless of orgasms he thanked you with, Felix can’t help wondering. “Did you actually mean it?”

“That you’re the absolute epitome of male prettiness?” you joke. “Of course!”

Since you met Felix, you were constantly amazed by his effortless and natural beauty. How anyone could not see that, even the boy himself, is a true mystery to you.

“That’s not what I meant,” he rolls his eyes, flips so he can look at you. For the last few minutes, he has laid on your stomach while you played with his blonde strands. “I mean the whole putting babies in you thing. Would you actually want to have my children someday?”

“You’re serious?” He nods, timid. “Baby, do you remember when I said I’d kill to have Tom Holland’s children?” He’s laughing this time, shaking his head at your delusional joke. “Well, I’d kill Tom Holland to have yours.”

Your words make him blush as he hides his face in your belly. You’re snickering along with him, body trembling in amusement, when you feel a kiss press to your stomach.

“Okay, okay. That’s good to know for the future.” Your amusement dies down when you feel his hand creep up your naked thigh, tickling the skin. Soft kisses are planted around your belly button before he wanders down your body. “For now, how about we play with the fantasy a little. What do you say?”

But you don’t answer. Before you can even open your mouth, he has his on you, playing with your swollen clit as though he hasn’t done so for hours. And soon enough Felix has you right back where he wants you. Withering away below him, thanked over and over again for the love you continue to gift him with.

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vinelark · 2 months

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i don’t remember if i ever shared this here, but a while ago i posted a little twitter thread about bats and gas station snacks and some very talented podficcers made a podfic of it! 🎧

[podfic] Jersey Vigilantes Don't Pump Gas by isweedan & reena_jenkins

original thread (text under the cut):

nested tweet reading: ever since i learned gotham is supposed to be in new jersey i can’t get this concept out of my head: [a badly drawn bumper sticker that says “jersey vigilantes don’t pump gas”] / quote tweet reading: the batmobile can’t just slip in and out of a gas station unnoticed. an employee HAS to go fill up the tank. meanwhile the tired night shift cashier knows the various robin eras because they come in to buy different snacks as time goes on.

one night while the manager is out filling *the literal batmobile* the cashier blinks and comes face to face with a child in a leotard and green boots, buying a pack of twizzlers. “thanks!” the first robin calls, somehow vaulting over two rows of shelves on his way out the door.

years later, after a stretch of quiet weeks, a new, curly-haired robin comes in and grabs a bag of flamin hot pepper puffs. the cashier doesn’t even think robin 2 actually likes them, but he looks really satisfied with himself every time he drops them on the counter.

(even after the second robin abruptly stops coming in, the cashier keeps slipping flamin hot pepper puffs onto their order list. no one else ever buys them, but it just—feels like the thing to do, somehow.)

a stretch of months without a robin, oddly tense. then the third robin appears, even smaller than the first two. he slips inside and buys a cup of black coffee and drains it in one go right at the coffee station, nervously eyeing the door like he’s afraid he’ll be caught.

the fourth robin, when she shows up, makes a beeline for the protein bars. finally, the cashier thinks, someone remotely sensible for this line of work. (though maybe not sensible enough—or maybe TOO sensible—because small caffeine robin is back a few months later.)

the fifth robin, when he first appears, approaches the counter. “you will direct me to the best snacks new jersey has to offer,” he tells the cashier.

“uh,” the cashier says. “i like sour patch kids, myself.”

robin 5 nods. “i will take a bag of sour patch children.”

(one night, not much later, red hood strolls through the door. the cashier has lived in gotham for over a decade now; they barely blink, even when nightwing bounds in after him.

“oh, shit, flamin hot pepper puffs,” red hood says. “i haven’t had these in ages.”

“aw, come on,” nightwing says, already holding a pack of twizzlers. “no one else can stand those.”

“why do you think i got them in the first place, dickhead?” red hood says. “to fend off new jersey’s number one snack thief.” and he buys buys every bag in stock.)

#feat. my own terrible art drawn in the notes app of a decade-old ipad #the joke being that you can’t pump your own gas in new jersey #which i’m sure has been joked about plenty before #anyway the podfic is a delight and every once in a while i remember about it and re-listen for a giggle #batfam #my fic #OBVIOUSLY BRUCE HAS HIS OWN GAS PUMP IN THE CAVE #or the batmobile runs on solar (because it’s sustainable and discreet NOT because superman thinks that’s cool)#but: imagine.

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lxclerc · 6 months

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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... in which karma finally bites you in the ass faceclaim... christina nadin pairing... charles leclerc x reader warning... none so far. petty charles and petty reader

note... i need everyone to pretend like all the text messages are in french. also no charles yet but lots of charles in the next part.

series masterlist main masterlist

part one → current part (part two) → part three

charles leclerc has never been on your podcast. it isn’t for the lack of trying per se but rather out of your own sheer stubbornness and need to protect your pride. chasing red, the motorsport podcast you’d built from the ground up, consists of you and your best friend emma. months ago, emma had emailed charles inviting him as a guest with emma alone as the host. it’s already unusual in itself considering you’re in every episode, but charles had replied to the email with a sort of snarkiness you aren’t used to but definitely not surprised to hear.

dear emma,

if y/n wants me as a guest then she can contact me herself. thank you. sincerely, charles

it had been short and to the point and you’d rolled your eyes when you read it. if charles wanted to be petty then you’re certainly not about to appear on his doorstep begging him to come on your show. charles seems to forget that he’s gotten his pettiness from you.

still, after that particularly irritating email, emma had been badgering you to explain what had happened. charles leclerc is the nice guy after all. who else would let ferrari fuck them over as much and still scream forza ferrari at the top of his lungs? according to emma, it’s simply impossible for charles to respond in such a way without some hidden history between the two of you.

and she wouldn’t be wrong but you’d been able to keep that under wraps pretty well. you’ve kept your past right where it belongs – in the past and in your opinion, there’s simply no need to dig up old bones. of course, up until now as you watched with furrowed brows as your name trended on twitter. it seems no matter how deep you bury old bones, it comes back and haunts you – or in your case, bites you in the ass.

“you dated him!” you winced at emma’s sharp tone. you already feel a headache coming in – you hadn’t expected to be shoved down memory lane at a random tuesday if you’re being completely honest and you’re definitely not in the right state of mind to be dealing with it.

“keep your voice down,” you say, putting your phone down and allowing yourself a sip of your coffee as you try to ignore emma’s incredulous looks.

“you dated him?” she says again, in a sarcastic whisper this time that made you roll your eyes. you hated her sometimes. you love her of course, but you really hate her sometimes.

and you hate whichever idiot got ahold of those photos. everyone seems to have so much to say but they can’t seem to comprehend that the charles and y/n in those photos aren’t the same charles and y/n now. you’re both grown now, no longer little kids fueled only with dreams and ambitions. now you’re fueled entirely by coffee and the will to not stalk his social media.

you’re over charles leclerc. you’re so over him that you spend all your time applauding yourself just how over him you are. of course, you’ve seen charles around after the break up. you both live in monaco after all. it’s impossible not to accidentally pass by each other walking to the grocery store or be at the same restaurant or the same party. you’ve seen him around the paddock multiple times but neither of you say anything. sometimes your eyes meet and the familiarity in each other is difficult to ignore but mostly, you just walk past each other as though you’re strangers, as if you hadn’t spent your childhood memorizing the patterns in his eyes.

you groaned at where your mind went. this is the last thing you want to be thinking – or talking – about at eight in the morning. you blame twitter and emma entirely for your predicament. it doesn’t help that you share an apartment with her too.

“no comment,” you say finally at her expectant face.

her little evil grin terrifies you as he picks up a stack of papers from the coffee table, placing it in front of you. “i’d suggest clearing the air between the two of you before thursday because you’re spending vegas with ferrari.”

you almost spit your coffee as you grabbed the paper and double checked. unfortunately, there it is in plain sight, your sponsor team right next to ferrari. the document contains your schedule for vegas as an F1 presenter. you’ve been lucky enough not to be assigned to ferrari since you’ve been assigned the job three months ago. but alas, all your bad karma seems to have finally caught up with you today as you read through your itinerary, the first words being an ice breaker game with carlos sainz and charles leclerc proceeding with a hot lap with one of the drivers on friday.

oh jesus christ, you’re screwed.

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername vegas ready and sporting red for the weekend!

view all comments...

emmauser very excited for the weekend

⤷ yourusername 🖕🏻

⤷ username emma what do you know

username god have answered all my prayers and forced y/n and charles to finally interact

username watching the childhood lovers to strangers, forced proximity trope in real time

⤷ username i am so invested actually

username her and charles are my roman empire

⤷ username they have consumed every nook and cranny of my feeble brain im afraid

username now what in the booktok is going on

taglist: @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 6 days

Text

Imagine the cross guild trip being nosey af

You: it doesn't matter if you don't tell anyone else you're in debt, Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy will find out.

Alvida: Keep your voice down, they're just in the next room. And no they won't, I'll just take a gig, and pay it off when I come back.

You: those three are the nosiest bitches I've ever met, I wouldn't be surprised if they found out about it in the next fortnight if they don't already know about it.

Mr. 3: I've worked with Sir Crocodile for almost a decade, he's never struck me as one for gossip.

You: you don't believe me? Watch this. *Gasps loudly* No! Shut up! ... Who got her pregnant!... Oh my GOD! How? ... OOO boy.

Mihawk: [leans back in his chair, so his head pokes into the door frame]

Buggy: [separates his ear and bounces it into the room]

Crocodile: [rolls his desk chair into view]

You: [points at them] I caught you, a bunch of nosey bitches, the lot of you.

Crocodile: [glowers at you] So no one is pregnant?

Mihawk: it appears we've been duped.

Buggy: Boo

Mr.3: [gawking]

Alvida: We're having a private conversation, didn't your mothers ever teach you eavesdropping is rude.

Crocodile: no, I didn't have any parents.

Buggy: two dads

Mihawk: no comment

You: I have some juicy gossip about the Wrangler and his girlfriend if you're interested.

Crocodile: [plops his files down] Alright, spill.

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #cross guild #buggy the clown #buggy d clown #mihawk #dracule mihawk #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #5/14/24 #no beta we die like men

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heembie · 1 month

Text

three shots, lemon drops

idol!sim jake x fem!reader; wc 3.0k; genres fluff, established relationship; warnings suggestive!! they make out, mentions of alcohol, v touchy a/n ib twitter shenanigans regarding jake on live but i'm a slow writer so this is late! oops

Jake is pushing it.

He’s situated in front of the camera he’d set up, swaying around in his chair as he watches comments sprint across the screen, including a barrage of messages like Hello from the Philippines! and blink if you see this. He’d taken to Weverse tonight, dragging you into a little studio with him the second he’d arrived at the company building, and suddenly the warning text that Jay had sent you thirty minutes ago started making a lot more sense.

Jake leans closer to the screen as you sit on a couch behind his camera, his lip becoming trapped between his teeth in concentration. You sigh, already imagining the thousands of messages flooding in, no doubt fawning over your boyfriend’s tendency to appear maddeningly kissable.

“Jake, I love your lips,” he reads out, leaning back into his chair with an amused smile playing at his mouth. He lifts a hand, strong fingers coming up to rub softly at the rosy skin he’d been chewing at. “My lips?”

You have to suppress a snort at the obvious fanservice, ignoring the irritation that starts to claw at your gut. You’re used to this—the flirting, the bold advancements on the part of his fans, his reciprocation. It is his job after all, to sell the fantasy. And you know he enjoys it, finds genuine hilarity and fondness in being able to make his fan’s days. It’s never really bothered you, because you’re secure enough in yourself and in your relationship with Jake, despite it being a secret to the public, that it doesn’t keep you awake at night to know he spends his time making other girls believe they have a chance.

Besides, they might know how it feels to flirt with him, but only one person knows the smell of his bedsheets, the warmth of his skin.

Tonight, though—tonight, it’s getting to you, because you’ve never really had to be in the room to witness any of it. Jake typically goes live when you’re not around, to spare you even though he knows it doesn’t usually bother you. Clearly, him having been dropped off tipsy after his dinner with Jay changed his mind, because he’d insisted that you wait for him while he does his live. You’re mostly trying to make sure he doesn’t say anything he shouldn’t.

There’s a lazy smile on his face, one that quirks up at the corner. His eyes fall on you, sluggishly, like they’d been doing all night. It makes your skin prickle, but you make a motion for him to look back at the camera.

“What’ve you guys been up to?” He asks, running a hand through his rich brown hair. You’re trying to busy yourself as you wait, scrolling on your phone while he talks. But his eyes keep flickering up to you, a little glassy, and surely that must be coming off strange to the viewers. You wonder what they’ll all take to Twitter to rant about tonight—will it be that the company should stop sending in staff to control the members’ every word? You stifle a giggle at the thought.

It’s not funny for long, though, because then Jake keeps talking.

“No, I’m not drunk,” he comments, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He pauses. “Well. Only a little.”

You groan quietly, making wild motions above your head as if to ask him: why would you admit that? He only gives you another look, his lips twitching before he looks back at the camera.

“Sorry, guys, I’m a little distracted.”

“Jake,” you hiss, making sure to keep your voice quiet enough that you won’t be heard over the live. Jake’s mouth slips into a slow smile. He leans back into his chair, the lids of his eyes lowering slightly as he stares at you.

You squirm in your seat on the couch. Something in his gaze is a little dark, a little loopy. Almost like he’s imagining something his brain can’t comprehend in its current state; like if he tried too hard his eyes would cross with desire and he’d probably say something he shouldn’t.

You look down at your phone, trying to get his attention off of you. It works, at least for now. He continues to read comments off the screen.

“You had steak for dinner? Me too,” he murmurs, palm pressed against his face. “Oh, jajangmyeon, nice.”

It goes on like that for a couple more minutes. You think he’s finally settled down, that the little alcohol he’d drunk had finally faded away enough to render him at least slightly sane. The hour keeps ticking away, so much so that you’ve even started thinking about what you’ll make yourself as a snack tonight before bed, and how you’ll be able to work around Jake’s schedule tomorrow to meet up with him for lunch. That is, until:

“What’s distracting me?” Jake chuckles, fixing the sleeve of his brown jacket. “Mmm…if I told you, then you’d know.”

He’s teasing them, riling them up so they’ll spam him with a million questions from a million different girls who want to be the one he confides in. Your gaze flickers up from your phone, watching him carefully.

“Not related to the comeback,” he says, shaking his head a little too seriously. You’re getting the sense that he’s up to something, unsettling you enough to make you put your phone away.

“No, not a staff member,” he chuckles. His voice has a lilt to it, one that gives away that he thinks whatever he’s doing is funny. You stand up from the couch, because he’s started to actively ignore the concern painted on your face. You don’t want to accidentally alarm the viewers, so you try subtly to gain his attention.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, slightly panicked. “Don’t say anything stupid. Your managers are going to kill me.”

Jake finally looks up then, through his lashes. There’s a delightful flush to his cheeks, a playfulness in the way he casually drags his eyes up and down your body. He sucks in a little air through his teeth, his tongue playing at the inside of his cheek as he glances at the screen once more.

“You think it’s Jungwonie? You guys are so funny.”

You tiptoe closer to his camera, not caring that your shadow is now visible on the wall behind him. He’s going to say something.

Jake is grinning now, and then he turns back to you, letting out a long, dragging sigh.

“I’m not into sharing, so you’ll just have to trust me, guys.” He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded. “My girlfriend is hot.”

Your jaw drops.

The rest of your body moves at its own accord. One of your hands reaches over his laptop to clap over the camera, and the other hand presses frantically at some buttons on his keyboard, wasting no time in ending the live. You’re frozen there, body tipped over his setup with your eyes practically bugging out of your skull.

All the while, Jake is leaned back in his chair, a leisurely smirk playing at his lips.

“Don’t look so happy to be mine.”

Your hand falls from its position, and you stare at your boyfriend in shock.

“What the fuck?”

The situation is settling in fast, like a brick to the gut, and you’re already starting to spiral just thinking of the fallout. You ignore Jake’s stupid face, pacing around the room in panic, a hand reaching up to rub against your eyes.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. Oh my god, the company is gonna hang both of us. I should’ve—I should’ve just listened to Jay when he texted me not to let you go live tonight. Jake—” you whirl around, doubling down around the corner of Jake’s desk, walking up to him in anger, “everyone fucking knows now. There’s gonna have to be so much damage control.

Jake only stares at you for a moment, the smirk from earlier faded away. It’s left something darker in its place—a little more raw, a little more real. He shrugs, his eyes boring into yours.

“So what?”

Notifications start going off on both of your phones. Jake silences his without even blinking, but you snatch yours up furiously.

“What do you mean so what? So this,” you grit, holding up your phone. “You think I’m worried about myself or something? We can take the heat from your company, but everything else? That’s only going to you. What the hell were you thinking?”

Silence. Jake takes the phone from your hands gently, switching the ringer off wordlessly. He puts it next to his, seemingly uninterested in any protest on your part (there comes none).

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking up at you from his seat, “that I’ve been wanting to do that ever since my driver dropped me off and I walked in to see you looking like that.” He motions at your outfit, his other hand rubbing small circles into his lips.

“Besides.” A smile creeps onto his face, and he reaches out, tugging lightly at your hips, causing you to stumble forward a little. His head rests at your stomach level. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous, baby.”

You blink down at him, shocked, blush spreading across your skin at a furious pace. So he’d noticed it, then, the irritation that you thought you’d hidden well. In fact, he’d been hoping for it. That’s probably why he’d insisted that you wait for him while he went live. He’d really bit the dust as soon as he walked into the HYBE building.

“Jake,” you warn, although there’s no real conviction behind it. You’ve lost all the anger from earlier, replaced by something weak. “This is bad.”

He hums distractedly, dipping his head to mouth at the fabric of your shirt. You can feel the warmth of his lips at your stomach, feel him smiling gently against you.

“Really bad,” he murmurs.

You breathe out slowly, your breath stuttering for no reason other than nerves. Jake looks up at you anyway, the tipsy glimmer to his eyes reflecting your own rosy face. He furrows his brows in a way that makes your heart ache, it’s so adorable.

“You want me to stop?”

You consider it for a moment. The other members, the company, everyone is most definitely trying to get a hold of you both right now. But then you’re looking back at Jake; at the wanton look in his eyes, and you find yourself shaking your head, lowering yourself into his lap without so much as a little sigh. You know you’ll both be getting a mouthful later—but for now, it doesn’t matter.

He smiles at you dazedly, planting firm hands on your hips to keep you steady. He lifts a hand up to brush a lock of hair from your face.

“Need you to say it,” he murmurs.

You lean in, the air escaping your mouths mingling between you.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Jake seals the distance between you instantly, his lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. For a moment you feel weightless—like it’s just you and him, entwined in midair with nothing but an ache in your lips and sweat beading on your skin. And then he’s moving, his hands sliding down to grasp your thighs as he noses at your jaw, littering kisses down its side and along your neck. He grounds you with the weight of every press of his full lips against your burning skin, and you can’t help but to tangle your fingers in the soft brown locks that sit at the nape of his neck.

“So pretty, baby,” he mumbles against your neck, the low rumble of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt on your arms. “Lucky I’m yours.”

A giggle tumbles out of your mouth, soft and earnest, and you can feel Jake’s teeth against your skin as he breaks into a grin.

“Mine,” you singsong, leaning your head back a little as he continues to mouth down towards your collarbone. “And they all know that now.”

Jake snorts.

“And you always tell me it doesn’t bother you when they flirt.”

He lifts his head up a little, moving to the juncture between your jaw and your neck.

“It—doesn’t.” The last part comes out through gritted teeth, because suddenly Jake is sucking a hickey into your skin, color blooming in his wake. You hiccup on a breath, your eyes glassy as he pulls away to survey his work.

“Now you’re gonna be more distracting.”

You drop your head onto his shoulder in shame, heat rushing to your cheeks as he giggles in your ear.

“Since when have I made such terrible decisions?” You whine against the fabric of his shirt, your voice muffled.

He laughs, breathy, swaying you around on his lap.

“Hey, I’ll take the credit for this one.”

Your head shoots up, eyes narrowing as you smack his arm softly.

“Damn right you will. I was talking about letting you drag me into this room in the first place.”

Jake lifts his arms in surrender, a coy smile on his lips. He shrugs, and then he cocks a brow.

“Were you being serious about Jay texting you?”

You nod, fiddling absentmindedly with a button on his shirt.

“He said, and I quote: Be careful about letting Jake go live tonight, he’s extra stupid when he’s tipsy.”

Jake stares at you blankly for a second.

“That fucker.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a kiss against Jake’s cheek. His dramatic act crumbles instantly, a smile forming on his face.

“He was right, though,” you say. The smell of Jake’s cologne drifts up from his neck, your eyelids fluttering helplessly in response.

“Not as right as the angle of my arm when I shove it up his—”

“Okay, stop talking about Jay—” you breathe, shutting your eyes, “and kiss your girlfriend.”

Jake shuts up, fast, one of his hands twitching against your thigh.

“Yes to both,” he replies, the other hand coming up to rest in the hair by your ear, tugging forward gently so your lips are touching. “Top ten words ever spoken, actually.”

He captures your bottom lip with his own, soft and languid. There are a million and one ways you could react to how good he is, but you settle for just touching him, fingers brushing along his neck, rubbing in small circles as he cups your jaw. His teeth scrape lightly against your lip, and you gasp quietly, your jaw falling open just that little bit more—pliant. He takes the chance to lick into your mouth, searing, the palm of his hand warm and strong against your cheek. The hand on your thigh crawls up your hip, slipping under your shirt just enough to rest atop the bone there, moving no further. He thumbs gently at your skin, drawing a low whine from your chest as he continues to kiss you.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow gently, lost in the sensation of your lips slotted against his. There’s a moment where he’s breathing hard against your mouth, having pulled away from you enough to have you panting not barely an inch from his face. His eyes rove over every part of you he can see, down to where you sit on his lap, his thumbs pressed into the dimples of your hips. You have to resist surging forward to kiss him again, momentary embarrassment at your inability to be disconnected from his lips for more than a minute vanishing almost as fast as it came on. You can’t blame yourself—the fans were right, after all, to point out his lips. They’re as soft and capable as they appear on camera, if not more.

A shy smile creeps onto Jake’s face.

“I love you, Y/N. Whatever happens, it was worth it.”

You sigh, a lovesick giggle threatening to jump out of your mouth.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Exist.”

You smile at him, your nose scrunching up as you lean in once more to give him a long, chaste kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek.

Suddenly, there’s a bang. The door to the studio swings open, revealing a completely unimpressed Jay, his arms crossed over his chest. Jake breaks away from the kiss, and you turn a bewildered head to face the intrusion, your lips raw and glistening from earlier events.

“Thought so. Could you two stop eating each other's faces for a minute so we can go deal with the consequences of your actions?”

You blink in embarrassment, trying to picture the no doubt saucy image of you perched on Jake’s lap looking like you’d just given a vacuum a run for its money. It’s humiliating.

“That’s not—we were just—”

Jay snorts, eyeing your neck with amusement.

“I can see your hickey, Y/N.”

“My bad,” Jake chimes in, a dopey smile on his face. You cast him a sideways glare before turning around again to flash Jay a sheepish grin. He shakes his head.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help against his evils. You’re both equally airheaded.”

“Okay, rude—”

“Just get over to the meeting room already,” Jay interrupts, a sort of fondness underscoring his tone. “The internet is falling apart.”

Jake throws his head back in his chair, groaning, pulling you against his chest in the process.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles into your hair.

“Jake. The media’s already all over this.”

Always the voice of reason, Jay is.

“Fine. One more kiss.”

“Sim Jaeyun,” Sunghoon’s voice screeches from the hallway outside the studio, followed by the loud stomping of his feet. You suspect he’s running.

Jake’s head launches up at a comical speed, you and Jay both laughing at the mildly fearful expression on his face.

“He’s coming,” you call, sliding off his lap onto slightly wobbly legs, reaching out a hand to your boyfriend. He takes it, grumbling.

“Can we just say I was talking about Layla or something?”

“You called me hot.”

“Oh, right,” Jake says, taking your hand softly as he starts for the door. “Definitely not Layla.”

tags! @junityy @hittoki @neos127 @iuwon @tyunni + ty to @/junityy and @4xiaojun for helping me when i was stuck ily guys 💓

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun #enhypen drabbles #jake sim drabble #jake sim fluff #enhypen headcanons

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