#anyway this one is cute! had lots of fun clearly

[myzticbean]

Cat!Dad Series: You're My "Maine" Squeeze

Pairing: Qin Che | Sylus / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Super fluff, established relationship, cute cats, domestic bliss Can also read at A03

Previous posts in the Cat!Dad series:

Zayne: Quit kitten around - let's celebrate

Title: You’re My “Maine” Squeeze

Wrapping my arms around Sylus, I rest my hands against the motorcycle’s tank as it rockets down the dark street. I slip a hand under his leather jacket as we both lean into the tight corner, disappearing into the condo’s underground private entrance. The motorcycles that had been following us blew past, unaware we had already made our getaway. 

I laugh, a little giddy from the rush of adrenaline at the chase and successful escape (ahem, joyride), hugging his broad back and resting my helmet between his shoulder blades as he slows and parks the bike. 

“I told you it would be fun,” Sylus says calmly after he pulls off his helmet. I tug mine off as well, my bun squished to my head and tangled flyaway hairs sticking to my face, but I know I’m still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Another successful mission with my criminal mastermind partner,” I chuckle, shaking my hair out of the hair tie before throwing it back up into a ponytail. I swing my leg over and hop off the bike, and he stands as well, wrapping me in his arms in a quick hug. 

We wear matching black leather jackets, my curb stomping boots laced up over black jeans, and a custom thigh holster holding my (not-quite-legal) gun. I lean into his embrace, lifting my face to smile smugly at him.

“Admit it, I definitely helped you a lot this time.”

“You literally started a fight and got us thrown out -- of my own club,” he answers sardonically, tightening his grip around my shoulders and waist. But he can’t hide the lip twitch of amusement and the softness in his gaze as he stares down at me. 

“You needed to hire better help anyways,” I say airily, stepping out of his embrace and flicking a strand of my ponytail back over my shoulder saucily. “That they didn’t even recognize their boss…tut.”

“You do realize most people shouldn’t recognize me, otherwise it defeats the purpose of being the mysterious leader of an underground organization,” he responds dryly, locking the steering on his bike and grabbing the straps of our helmets in one hand. 

“That they didn’t even recognize your dark, dangerous, and sensual aura and let you do whatever you wanted is just a crime against nature,” I answer cheekily. I open my mouth to continue my teasing despite his grimace, when the hissing and howling of cats interrupts me.

As we neared the elevators, I saw a couple of cats brawling, two smaller dark colored tomcats wrestling a dirty, fluffy, absolute monster of a cat. Even while clearly outnumbered, it was holding its own and about to turn the tide of the fight when another cat appeared, intent on jumping into the fray. 

“Oh no,” I say, taking an unconscious step forward. I wasn’t sure how to intervene without getting scratched to holy hell when an empty can was suddenly thrown from behind, clattering as it pelted one of the dark cats on top. 

It screamed, not that it was actually hurt, but more in surprise as it backed off of the giant cat on the bottom. Without waiting, the big cat sprang to its feet, roaring like a tiny lion and racing forward aggressively. 

The tomcat didn’t bother waiting around to see if it could take the big cat on - it scrambled to its feet and raced away, the other cats following close behind. The bigger cat stopped, sitting on the ground in exhaustion, bloody scratch marks on its face, back and ears. 

“You poor thing,” I murmur, squatting down to try to get a closer look. It would probably be pretty skittish, especially if it has been a feral, unneutered male used to roaming the streets of the N109 zone and surviving. 

It turns to look at me at the sound of my voice, its tail flicking back and forth as it surveys me from where it sits on the cold concrete. “I wonder if he’ll let us take care of his wounds,” I say to Sylus who stands behind me, his hand propped casually on one hip as he looks between me and the cat.

“It’s a tom, probably not,” he answers.

“I tamed you,” I say a little tongue-and-cheek as I glance at him slyly over my shoulder. 

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I might argue it was the other way around, kitten.”

“Here kitty, kitty,” I whisper, flicking my fingers at him. I moved to kneel down on one knee, not moving closer, but holding my hand out in case he wants to come over for a sniff.

The cat didn’t deign to move closer, but also doesn’t seem afraid or inclined to scamper away from us. He just peers at me with intent yellow eyes, his fluffy tail flipping back and forth as if to lure me in with the promise of touching it.

I can’t help myself -- I shuffle forward a little bit, my hand still outreached, wanting to see if he’ll let me get close enough to at least take a better look at his scrapes. He’s certainly not afraid - his watchful eyes are flickering all around. 

“Look at this handsome boy,” I croon, voice pitched a little lower, trying to entice him to take a step towards me. I wish I had some food for him. 

Sylus just sighs behind me. 

“Ignore him, kitty,” I suggest, trying to stifle a giggle when I see the cat’s yellow eyes briefly dart behind me before locking back onto mine. “You are definitely the biggest, most handsome cat on the block. If you come juuuust a little closer, I want to make sure you haven’t been hurt.”

The cat yawns, his sharp teeth on full display before he licks his nose and gives me a blink. 

“That’s right, big guy. You know I won’t hurt you.” 

Sylus suddenly chuckles behind me. “Let’s do this a little faster, shall we?” Without pausing, he activates his Evol, wrapping the cat in red and black swirls of color and lifting it into the air. It yowls in immediate displeasure, thrashing and kicking.

“Oh, don’t-” I try to say, before Sylus deposits it in my arms, though still wrapped up and held immobile by his power.

It freezes, looking up into my face, while I peer down at him. “It’s okay, kitty, I won’t hurt you,” I say soothingly. I resist the urge to pet it - it’s trapped and can’t escape, and my touch could do more harm than good. Instead I hold him close against me, cradling him gently in my arms as Sylus guides me towards our private elevator. 

We ascend to the penthouse as I’m trying to look over his wounds - with his thick hair, it doesn’t seem like he sustained too much damage, but I wouldn’t be sure until I could investigate more thoroughly. He is, however, extremely dirty and covered in fleas, which I can see crawling through the dirty fuzz. 

“He needs a bath,” I say, looking him over. “Do you think we should take him to a vet instead?”

Sylus scoffs quietly behind me as we enter our private floor. “I’ll make a call.” 

“My rich boyfriend is so strong and powerful,” I laugh, walking further into the condo and heading towards the bathroom. 

“Do we have any of that blue dish soap?” I call out as I settle the cat down in the shower. I need to grab a towel, and with Sylus’ Evol still activated, he won’t be able to move too much. I kick off my shoes and socks and grab a few fluffy dark towels from underneath the sink, whispering to the cat as I reach for one of the handheld shower heads. Since the shower is big enough for 10 people, the cat is safely outside of the spray as I test out the water and let it warm up.

“What a good boy you are,” I croon, kneeling down by the cat once the temperature has been adjusted, gently allowing the warm water to soak into his fur. The cat gives a grimace and gnashes his teeth, but otherwise doesn’t fight it. 

“Yes, you’re so smart, what a sweet kitty you are. You were definitely going to win. It was three-on-one, and look how strong and brave you were…” I ramble on and on as I soak him from the neck down, gently carding my fingers through his fur to try to get him completely wetted. 

Sylus walks in with a bottle of the dish soap, rolling his eyes a little at my running commentary. “I’m worried about you, sweetie,” he says lightly, squatting by the shower entrance and setting down the soap bottle. 

“Hush,” I say, fighting back a smile as I throw a mock-glare over my shoulder. “Squeeze me,” I say, holding out one palm.

“I wish,” he mutters before he obliges, squirting a heaping handful of soap.

I soap my palms together and get to work, thoroughly (but gently) cleaning up the poor, battered cat. His cuts and scrapes aren’t bad, but I’m careful to avoid getting too much soap in those areas to avoid any stinging. I keep speaking to the cat, voice low and calm, and he doesn’t otherwise flinch at being doused in water and soap.

“I wonder if he was someone’s pet?” I question thoughtfully. “He’s too well behaved for a feral cat.”

Sylus just hums but doesn’t say anything, his Evol still containing the cat though it’s obvious the animal isn’t fighting it. I make sure to wash off as much of the dirt and fleas as I can, rinsing and repeating one more time, and the amount of dirt pooling beneath the two of us turned the pale gray tile completely black. 

But as the cat emerges, clean and victorious, I’m astounded to see a pure white beauty in its majestic display. “He’s so handsome,” I gasp, gently drying him off with a soft towel. 

“I know, you’ve already mentioned it many times,” Sylus says dryly, but the humor glinting in his ruby-colored eyes is obvious. “I always knew you’d be a cat person.”

“You call me kitten often enough, I thought it was obvious,” I say, smiling playfully. 

It’s quiet again for a moment as I finish drying the cat off, before noting, “I don’t think he’s seriously hurt, but he had fleas and could use a check up.” 

As if waiting for my remark, the doorbell chimes, announcing a visitor. I look over at Sylus, who has climbed to his feet and casually strolls out of the bathroom. 

I reach out, cradling the cat in a new clean towel and exit the bathroom and into the living room where a man with a black kit is waiting for us. Without much expression and with almost no conversation, he takes the cat from my arms and begins his check up, and the cat -- who is still held by the black strands -- immediately begins to meow and scream non-stop.

“Oh, poor baby,” I whisper, clenching my hands but unable to help. I look on in concern, trying not to react as the impersonal vet quickly doctors the cat’s wounds and gives him a few shots. 

“He’ll be fine in a few days. I’ve given him his vaccinations, and a pill that will help kill off the remaining fleas.” 

“What kind of cat is he?” I ask, the cat looking even larger as the fur dries.

“I’d guess Maine Coon based on his size and features,” the vet says. “You can do a DNA test if you want to know for sure.”

“Will he get bigger or is he fully grown?”

The man lifted the cat’s lips, checking his teeth. “He’s a young cat, maybe still under a year old, so I would guess he’s still growing. Maine Coons can keep growing until they are around two years old.”

He gives me a few instructions on how to continue caring for the animal, and without much fanfare, leaves. 

“Let’s let him free now,” I murmur to Sylus after setting him down on the floor. Sylus releases his Evol, and the cat slowly stands, taking a few steps and sniffing the air. 

“He’s so cute,” I sigh, watching him tentatively explore his new surroundings. 

“He better not pee on anything until we can get him neutered,” Sylus mutters. “We’ll never get the smell out.”

I reach out, wrapping my arms around his waist and nuzzling into his chest. “You’re so wonderful,” I say, content and a little tired. The doorbell rings again, and I lift my head off his chest to look up at his face, puzzled. 

He motions for me to go, saying, “Get in the shower, I’ll get him settled. The twins brought some supplies.”

I smile in relief, giving him another squeeze, and silently beg for a kiss as I stand on my toes and lift my face. He cups my chin, brushing warm lips over mine in a chaste kiss. He gives me a second kiss on my forehead.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “I’ll join you soon.”

More than a week has passed since we rescued the cat. I’ve had to travel to and from Linkon for work, but Sylus never asks if I am going to take the cat with me or drop it off at the shelter. Instead, the cat seems to settle into the plush penthouse as if he had never lived a life on the outside, his kingly attitude right at home in the dark, romantic surroundings. 

After arriving a little later than I expected, I put my overnight bag away in the bedroom before I grab one of the new cat toys lying about. It’s a stick with a feather dangling from a string, and I flick it around on the floor and up in the air, laughing aloud as the cat makes a daring leap trying to catch it. 

“You can do it, Junior,” I cheer as he stretches out his paws, dagger-like nails exposed. Mephisto caws angrily in the corner, pacing back and forth on his stand as he watches the playful cat. They’ve been sassing each other all week, with the kitty missing chunks of hair and Mephisto decidedly more ruffled looking with mechanical feathers lying twisted on the ground. 

The door opens and Sylus walks in just in time to hear me, raising his eyebrows as he comes towards me carrying a couple of shopping and garment bags. 

“Please don’t tell me that name means what I think it means?” he sighs.

I start giggling and the cat takes a flying leap, tackling me to the ground. I ooph out a rush of air, his heavy body colliding with mine as I clutch him to my belly and roll backwards. Sylus drops the bags into the couch and strides over, grabbing the cat by the scruff of the neck and tossing him (somewhat gently) onto the coffee table. He reaches down, helping me to my feet as I fight off a giddy laugh. 

“It’s exactly what you think,” I answer, a sly smile twisting my lips as I reach down to pat Junior on the top of his head, his large, fuzzy ears twisting to catch our voices. “He looks just like his daddy, after all…”

“I did not, in fact, sire a cat. But if my little kitten is so inclined to have her own litter, I could be persuaded.”

I burst out laughing, pushing at his shoulder (he didn’t budge). “I’m not ready for a baby right now. Baby making, however…”

His eyes glint in the light, strangely dark as he locks his gaze onto mine, tugging me closer and into a tight embrace. He leans down, nuzzling his face into my neck, arms wrapped around my waist. “Let’s go practice now,” he suggests, teeth nipping gently at my skin in blatant invitation. 

I sigh, languid from the pleasure that courses up my spine as he trails long fingers down my back in a slow caress. He kisses me tenderly, tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before I open to let him in, our tongues pressing against each other in unhurried exploration. We’ve kissed hundreds of times, but each press of his lips to mine brings a fresh wash of affection and excitement.

I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, falling deeper into his kiss, but a demanding howl from the coffee table shatters the moment. I look down, meeting the irritated eyes of the cat staring back at me. “Sorry, Junior. You shouldn’t be watching mommy and daddy like this.”

Sylus stifles a long exhale before he reaches down, adjusting himself, and steps away back towards the bags. I follow along with interest, trying to peek into the bags, but he covers it up. 

“You can open this one now,” he says, holding out a shopping bag. “I’ll show you the others later.”

I look with interest at the other handful of bags and garment bags, but don’t press. I’ve learned that any surprise from Sylus is well worth the wait. Instead, I tear open the bag and read the brand name on the box. “Evol CommuniCollar?” I question, looking up at him in surprise. “Aren’t these ridiculously expensive?”

He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe if you’re not me.”

I roll my eyes. “You are such a snob sometimes.” I eagerly read the description. “It says here that it can translate everything your pet says into human language. This is so cool!”

I sit down and start fumbling to open the box, tearing off the flap corners in my haste to get it open. “Oops, I hope we don’t need to return this,” I say. He looks completely unconcerned as he settles on the couch next to me, as Junior perches politely on the coffee table near my knee, tail swishing back and forth. 

Reading the instructions, I open my phone and download the app as Sylus checks the battery charge on the collar. I fill in Junior’s information, noting his suggested breed and age in the settings. While Sylus isn’t watching, I set the AI voice to one of my favorite male celebrities that is (surprisingly) available in the list. 

Sylus gently adjusts it around the cat’s neck, making sure his fur isn’t being pulled or tangled, and gives him a single pat on the head.

Junior is still watching Sylus and gives a tiny meow, and the collar suddenly beeps, a deep, masculine AI-voice is clearly projecting from the collar. “Father.”

I gasp, practically swooning on the couch. “He knows you’re his dad,” I squeal, covering my mouth to hide the huge grin. Sylus looks taken aback, one eyebrow raised as he stares down at the cat that is still looking up at him. He obviously recognizes the voice when I see his sidelong glance at me. 

I hurriedly continue reading the instructions. “While animals may not experience the same family bonds, environmental stimulus, language or emotional capacity that humans do, they’ve been able to map the closest electrical triggers to feelings that we can understand.”

I laugh a little. “So I guess he knows you aren’t his birth father. Maybe you’re his step-dad.”

The kitty looks at me chuckling on the couch, attention flicking back and forth, and as he looks at me directly, he gives a single, long blink. “Wife.” The masculine voice is low and rumbly as he purrs a little.

My mouth drops open, and I don’t dare to look at Sylus. I’m trying desperately to stifle a cackle of mischievous delight, and I reach out to stroke my hand along his back. 

“No,” Sylus says, reaching out to catch my hand. “Don’t reward him for bad behavior.”

“How is he being bad?” I ask, choking on my laughter. I’m trying not to cry, eyes welling up as I gasp for breath.

“This collar is defective. Let’s throw it away,” he says resolutely, reaching out a hand to unclasp the collar from the cat before I bat his hand away.

“Don’t you dare. This is priceless.” I try to be stern, but my quivering lips and definitely giving it away.

He looks slightly irritated but does take his hands away and folds his arms across his chest. I turn back to the cat, giving him a little scritch behind one fluffy ear, and he closes his eyes, rumbling in pleasure. 

“Feels good. It’s itchy,” the cat collar says in its low, dulcet tones. “Wife. Wife.” The purrs get a little louder when I switch to the other ear.

“No, I’m your mom,” I correct, and the collar gives another little beep with tiny rumbling noises as if to translate what I said.

“No, not mother. Wife,” the cat collar responds, and the cat blinks up at me again, holding eye contact. 

I cover my mouth to hide my laughter when I see Sylus stiffen up beside me. “No, I’m your mother. And this is your dad,” I say, pointing to Sylus. “I’m his wife.”

I pretend I don’t see Sylus whip his head around to look at me. I’m trying to make a point to a cat, and this is the easiest way to get it across. How would a cat understand human dating behavior? 

The cat looks obviously disgruntled as the collar makes more translation noises. His tail lashes angrily back and forth, and he turns his head away from me, obviously not agreeing to my words. 

I lean forward, giving him a little kiss on his forehead, ignoring his mew of unhappiness. “I love you so much, my handsome little guy. You’re the bestest boy, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I’m the best cat. Better than the bird,” the collar agrees, and the cat turns to nuzzle his head into my chin.

I pepper little kisses all over his cute little cat face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry. I’d like dinner, please. I want the fish one. The wet food, not the crunch food.” 

“Oh, you like the tuna more than the chicken? You should really eat the kibble too, it’s better for your teeth if you can eat some crunchy food,” I say, and we walk into the kitchen, chatting together. 

Sylus leans back against the couch cushions, sighing as scrubs one hand over his face before climbing to his feet and going to store away the bags.

Junior and I chatter back and forth, his sentences slowly becoming longer and more in-depth the more the collar was used. 

He finally finishes his food and I ask to gently wipe his face and whiskers with a clean towel, and he happily obliges, purring loudly as I clean him up. We walk together back into the living room, where Sylus has once more taken a seat on the couch, the fireplace crackling and the low throb of classical music coming from the record player. 

“Father,” Junior murmurs, leaping onto the couch and then clambering into Sylus’ lap (uninvited, but also undeterred). I smile, nestling into his side as he raises an arm and pulls me in closer. 

“Father, play with me. Play with me,” the cat begs, raising one paw and tapping it against Sylus’ chest. 

I try to bite back a smile, shifting away slightly so I can quickly snap a photo. Sylus resigns himself, reaching down to flick one furry ear before he tugs gently at a whisker. The cat grows ever more exasperated as he tries to bat away Sylus’ hand, who snaps his fingers and conjures up a handful of black feathers dusting along Junior’s head and back. 

“You wanted to play, and now you’re mad?” Sylus asks, listening to the cat muttering profanities (with the help of the collar) and hiding a small smile. 

Finally the cat huffs and flops down, and the feathers immediately disappear. We both look down at the large cat stretching himself along the length of Sylus’ thighs, Junior’s head resting closer to his stomach. I reach out, giving him a scritch as I nuzzle into Sylus’ broad shoulder.

Sylus presses a tender kiss to my forehead as he sweeps one long-fingered hand down the back of the cat in a soothing, absent-minded stroke. He drops his head, feathering kisses across the bridge of my nose and cheeks, before pressing a deeper, sweeter kiss to my lips. 

“So about that litter of kittens you mentioned…” I pull away to whisper into his ear as Junior finally settles and little snores start to emerge. 

Activating his Evol, he carries that cat over to his bed, settling him into the cushions lightly while he stands and hefts me over his shoulder. “Practice makes perfect, sweetie,” he purrs, striding into the bedroom and shutting the door while I try to muffle my giggles.

Junior licks his lips, snuggling deeper into his bed and drifting off into an even deeper, satisfied sleep.

Cat image source

[jendoe]

tagged by @nightbloodraelle to make some ocs in this picrew! thank you MWAH...

🎀 elissavet cousland | 🎲 adelaide hawke 🏹 yawen liu | 🔍 harun liu 🥀 cressida trevelyan | ⚗ hildegard van markham 🐲 varian de rossi | 🗡 rosaline trevelyan

tagging @phillipsgraves, @risingsh0t, @indorilnerevarine, @chuckhansen, @queennymeria, @denerims, @girlbosselrond, @minaharkers, @gwynbleidd, @aelyosos, @calenhads, @telumendill, @shadowglens, @cptcassian, @corvosattano, @jackiesarch, @marivenah, @sstewyhosseini, @leviiackrman, @unholymilf, @florbelles, @shellibisshe, @loriane-elmuerto, and if you see this, YOU!!! no pressure ofc mwah mwah mwah

[fuxuannie]

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

[ohmygraves]

it started off as a prank.

soap and gaz were fooling around, really. nothing too serious, not expecting much from it. hell, the account was in soap's phone. ghost didn't even know anything about it.

the two created a tinder account for the lieutenant, just to see what kind of people would be so inclined to message a masked man like him.

photos were taken candidly, most of it from soap's own stash (don't ask). something more serious was cropped from group pictures, from either the bar or during a mission. gaz thought of the introduction, with little embellishments to make it more ridiculous. the goal was to see how many would swipe right to the scary, masked lieutenant.

of course, the sergeants were surprised to see so many match notifications, to the point that soap's phone would just erupt with notification sounds, even during briefings. safe to say, the poor scot got in trouble, and ended up turning off the notification for the app.

most of the matches seems to be coming from a place of lust, a lot of requests of one night stands or fuck buddies (what is it with people who liked masked men, the two thought). many seemed very forward and to the point with what they wanted. it was ridiculous trying to scroll through the first messages and reading them one by one.

but then there's you.

you: hello, i feel like i've seen you before. are you staying at the base near (location)?

soap and gaz thought your first message was interesting. it could be that you knew the lieutenant somewhere, or had seen him at least once. you seem to be a real person too, judging from your profile. photos of you indicated as such.

gaz wanted to call it quits, ghosts you just like every other match that they received, but soap wanted to take it a step further, even if gaz was completely against the idea. bickering for a while, soap ended up sending a text, and that's how you started talking to "ghost".

ghost: yeah. do i know you from somewhere?

soap had expected it to be a flirting attempt, though he was surprised to see an actual answer.

you: oh, i think i've seen you a few times outside of the base.

you: i frequent the café nearby ^^

oh, you're so cute and innocent, soap kinda felt bad for lying now.

ghost: i see

ghost: perhaps i'll see you sometime too? ;)

soap got addicted to posing as ghost. the two of you texted back and forth during his break, sometimes even at night. soap stayed up and missed some sleep just for some elaborate joke that kept going and going, and gaz was just tuning into the drama too.

everything was fun at first, not everyday the scot got to roleplay as the lieutenant, especially since the man was such a dry texter. it was funny trying to come up with an awkward reply or even just flat messages when talking to you. you were just so nice and oblivious to it though.

soap nearly lost his marbles when you asked to meet up in the cafe near the base, and asked when it was possible. you knew that soldiers frequently are given a leave, so perhaps "ghost" would love to meet you when he had the time. the scot was sure that he went too far this time, earning "i told you so" look from gaz even when he's clearly also enjoying the shenanigans.

they decided that it's finally time to come clean to the man in question.

ghost, of course, was furious. not only that this was a violation of privacy, soap and gaz had wasted a random person's time because of some elaborate joke that went too far. now they even want to meet with him too.

soap thought that the only way to fix this was just to inform you as well. it was only fair as you're also affected by this. hell, he didn't even know that his "casual" flirting (which was a loose term considering ghost's texting habits that soap adapted for this roleplay) would be enjoyed by someone, even getting the lieutenant a date too. the scot insisted that you two still meet anyway, and that he would be there too to apologize.

ghost, of course, was definitely against it. he had been dragged into this against his will, and it's not like he had the time too. why would he entertain the two sergeants who got him into this mess—

but perhaps just a cup of tea with a beautiful person like you would be nice... perhaps...

reluctantly, ghost agreed to the date, letting soap talk to you to set up a time and place. while looking at your pictures and the past conversations, he didn't seem to mind that he's now on some sort of a blind date...

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. ��I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[togamest]

hi hiiii ^^ i just wanted to request how the furin boys + togame would react if they were out shopping with their s/o and they reach their hand out intending to take their bags for them but their s/o mistook it for them asking to hold their hand so they switched their bags in one hand to hold theirs? i just think it'd be rlly cute <3

-> take my hand, love | 1,020 words. gn!reader (reader is called pretty, my love, honey, sweetheart). sfw.

author’s notes: this was absolutely precious to write. i love these boys so much…and i know umemiya would be such a doofus about the whole thing, haha! hope you enjoy! thanks for stopping by <3

Sakura would go bright red out of embarrassment. The one time he tries to be smooth, and you still thwart him with your sweet eyes and downturned lips, confused as to why he looks so off at simply holding your hand. “Did…did I misread?” you eventually say, hesitantly, and his face goes even redder. He’s almost as red as the tomatoes in the produce aisle you’re both walking through. “N-no! Well, yes,” he eventually gets out, “I, uh…wanted to grab the grocery bags. We got a lot of stuff.” He brushes the back of his neck with his hand, and your frown turns upside down as you laugh, squeezing his hand, before replacing your hand with the bags he’d been reaching for.

“B-But I can hold your hand too,” he says, going for your hand in his free one. You can’t help but smile at him. “You’re so cute, you know that?” you say, and he shrugs, looking off at the ceiling, anywhere but you. “Yeah, yeah,” he responds gruffly. But the blush is still there.

Hayato wouldn’t even question it. Really, he is going for your hand, but on principle he tries to grab the bags first; you’d been on a long shopping spree today to get summer clothes, and you had several bags that he could’ve carried with ease. Not that you were struggling, but he hated not helping you with carrying things into the house even though you were quite a self-sustainer. When your hand meets his own, and your smile, so bright, beams at him, he can’t help but ignore his motive and simply smile back. He does tell you on the way home, though, and you’re incredibly embarrassed, dropping your hand from his own. “I’m sorry,” you say, frowning, and Hayato just smiles, taking your hand in his own again. “Not to worry, my love,” he says softly, squeezing your hand in his own, “I still won anyway.”

Next time, he takes the bags first, and doesn’t even let you think about carrying them yourself. If you do, he gives a tut and holds his hand out. “Not today,” he says, grabbing the bags with a smile, “I know you can handle it, but let me do it.” And he always manages to win.

Hiragi has too big of a heart to not tell you what he meant; while he’d have been happy just holding your hand, even though you weren’t much of a hand-holder in the first place, he did see how many bags you had from shopping and couldn’t help but try to kill two birds with one stone; bags first, hand later. He doesn’t laugh at you, or tease you; instead, he swiftly grabs your hand, pulls you close, and snatches the bags from your other hand so quickly that you barely have time to register what happened. “Hir—” you attempt to say, brows furrowing, but he shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Wanted to get your bags, honey,” he says smoothly, and your face goes bright red as you pull your hand away. “O-oh,” you stammer out, but he’s faster than you, grabbing your hand again, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I have two hands f’r a reason, you know,” he says, smiling as he squeezes your hand in his own. Your now-free hand moves up to giggle behind it, rolling your eyes. “Smooth talker,” you grumble.

Umemiya laughs hysterically at it, mostly at the perplexed look on your face clearly reacting to the brief confusion on his own. He’s always been carefree and a little silly, but making fun of you for wanting to hold his hand? That’s pretty cold. You yank your hand away, going to storm off when his hand grabs your arm, tugging you back. You look at him, fuming, even more confused as to why he thinks holding your hand is so funny. Does he not like public displays of affection? you think to yourself. Maybe it’s a sign of weakness for him…which isn’t the case as Umemiya’s voice carves right through your thoughts, remorse strong in his eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, apologetically grinning at you, “I was just going to grab your bags. But I’m happy to hold your hand, too! Promise!” His sweet attitude isn’t something you can say no to, so you roll your eyes and let him take your bags, and then your hand.

“Sorry,” you say softly, under your breath, and Umemiya brings you close, wrapping an arm around your waist as your head tucks into his shoulder. “Never apologize, my dear,” he whispers against your head, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Togame doesn’t question it, either. He’ll only tell you once you’re home, and you’re unloading all of the groceries into the fridge when he clears his throat, a devious smirk on his lips as you look over at him, frowning. “Remember when I went to hold your hand today?” he asks, and you nod. You have absolutely no idea where he’s going with this, but as he explains that he meant to grab all the grocery bags you were huffing about, you go bright red, turning away from him and grabbing the eggs, placing them in the fridge. Togame’s throat clears again, and you turn around, annoyed. “What?” you say, a little aggressive, and his expression changes to something close to guilt. “I didn’t mean I didn’t wanna to hold your hand, you know,” he says slowly, handing you the lettuce from the produce bag, “I always wanna hold your hand. I was jus’ sick of hearin’ ya complain about haulin’ all these damn bags by yourself.” You huff, your hands on your hips as you turn away from the open fridge. “And I can, can’t I?” you counter, and he laughs.

“Ya sure can, pretty,” he says, moving to stand right in front of you, clasping the hand at your side in his own, “but let me do it next time, yeah? Gotta keep these hands nice ‘n smooth f’me.”

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[gurugirl]

Spiderman | fratboy!harry

Continuation of this one shot - but can be read as standalone.

Summary: You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight mask kink, this is mostly just gratuitous smut

Tonight was your excuse to dress up like the supervillain Poison Ivy. A short green dress with patches of fabric leaves all over and a crown of ivy on your head. Mostly it was just something cute to wear to draw a little attention. Plus Poison Ivy is bisexual so you were hoping at least someone picked up the hint. All were welcome, so to speak.

When you got to the frat house you noted all the sexy and fun Halloween costumes. Lots of tit-bearing cats, a few she-devils, some baseball players in well-fitted jerseys, a Lego. The house was packed. The music was loud. Too many of your fellow university schoolmates had begun drinking early. You arrived late on purpose. Drunk wasn’t a cute look. At least you didn’t think it was. Not on you anyway. And you kind of hoped to get hit on and maybe get lucky. Tipsy sex could be fun. Drunk sex wasn’t memorable enough to be worth it.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while.” You looked over at a tall someone dressed in a Spiderman costume. The hood was covering his face so his identity was a mystery, though you thought you recognized the voice as someone you’d had a fun hookup with once.

You leaned your hip into the counter just as you’d finished pouring yourself a drink, “Is that so? I guess I wouldn’t know if I’d seen you around or not since I can’t exactly be sure who you are.”

His laugh had you grinning suddenly as he mimicked your stance, leaning his own hip into the counter facing you, though you couldn’t see his eyes under the spandex material.

“So, you’re telling me you can’t recognize me by my body?” He leaned his head down as if looking over himself before bringing his face back upward, “This costume hardly hides anything.”

You cocked your head, sipping your drink as you allowed your eyes to travel over the red and blue spandex. It clung tightly to his chest and hips, thighs… You didn’t miss the bulge either as you brought your eyes back up to the spot where you figured his eyes were under the mask, “Nope. Sorry. Should I recognize you by your body alone?”

You could tell he was smiling under the spandex, “You should. As I recall, you know my body rather intimately.”

Now you were certain it was the fun hookup you had a while back. You didn’t know him well. But you did know him to be quite popular. And attractive. And the time he went back to your dorm with you and your friend was quite memorable. But you decided to play coy a little bit. Just to get him going.

“Really? Hmm…” You feigned confusion as you slowly ate up his frame, inch by inch with your gaze. His heavy-looking bulge was a nice reminder of how sizable he was. You wouldn’t forget it. “Still doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t see any outstanding features here.” You waved your hand up and down gesturing at his frame.

He nodded and remained quiet. You were sure he was feeling you out. Trying to see if you were fucking with him or not. You were.

When he inched in toward you and placed his gloved hand over your forearm he leaned in and spoke quietly into your ear, “I’ll give you a hint. Would you like a hint, Y/n?”

You nodded as you felt his warmth. He was so close to your body as he spoke, “Had you bouncing on my cock, made you come, all while your friend watched us fuck.”

You swallowed. Yes. You remembered very clearly that night. It was the only time you’d ever done anything like it before. And now, he was clearly trying to get you in bed again. At least… that was the vibe you were getting. You looked down and realized his bulge was, well it was bulging. Was he getting turned on just thinking about it? You needed to have him again. Wouldn’t mind feeling that thick cock inside of you once more.

You sighed and turned to face his mask, “Hmm… maybe. I’m not positive, though. Might need to check a few things out to verify–“

Harry’s grip on your forearm tightened, “Can be arranged. Wanna go find a room so you can verify?”

You laughed as you looked around. You’d never been talked into something like this so fast in your life. Then again, Harry, you knew it was him, was quite convincing and he was good in bed from what you remember. You couldn’t feel bad for giving in so quickly.

Harry took your hand and you followed him upstairs, leaving your unfinished drink in the kitchen and long forgotten.

The good thing about the frat house was that it was massive and there were enough bedrooms that you were able to find a free room almost right away.

Harry locked the door behind himself and then suddenly he was pushing you backward toward the bed where you fell to your bottom the moment the back of your thighs hit the edge. You giggled as he put his spandex-covered hands on your thighs. Propping yourself up by your elbows you watched him take in your bare legs and then one by one, lift each upward to remove your heels. He was between your thighs and the erection he was sporting indicated he wasn’t wearing underwear. Or if he was he’d fully pushed his way up and out of the top band.

“M’gonna give you a little reminder. Take you down memory lane and have you sit on my face. Is that all right?” He climbed over you on the bed, hovering over your body and looking down at you. You really wished you could see his pretty eyes.

“Okay. But how are you gonna do anything with this on?” You plucked at the fabric covering his face.

You heard a breathy, amused laugh fall from his chest as he pushed himself off of you and laid down on his back, “You’ll see. Climb up.”

You adjusted yourself, straddling his torso, and then lifted upward, gently placing yourself over his face, not yet sitting all the way. You were still wearing panties and you were hovered over his mask so you weren’t sure what his plan was exactly.

“Lean forward a bit.” He spoke from under you.

Leaning forward, you put your hands on the headboard and he adjusted something underneath you and that’s when you realized he was lifting his mask to uncover his mouth and part of his nose before pushing your panties aside and grasping your thighs, pulling you down on his mouth. You laughed when you settled and looked at the Spiderman mask between your thighs. You couldn’t see much of his nose and his mouth was covered by your pussy but the whole thing felt ridiculous to you.

Ridiculous until he began mouthing at your pussy slowly, using his tongue through your crease and his hands gripped your ass, pushing you into him further.

“Oh!” You tightly grabbed onto the headboard again in a gasp.

His warm tongue slid up and down and his moans made you hot. You hadn’t quite been ready but with his mouth on your clit, you were quickly aroused and slowly wetting his face.

Kissing and sucking sounds below drew your eyes down to him. You could see his dark curls sticking out from the edges of his mask where he’d pulled it up, his pink lips were also memorable. How had you not reached out to him after that first night? He was good. And he was so fucking hot. But he was also really nice to you and to your friend.

You tilted your pelvis down and dragged your clit over his nose and moaned softly as he pushed his tongue into your entrance. The slow lathering of his tongue up and down your crease and his puckering lips felt just as good as you remembered.

He pushed at you and inhaled a sharp breath, “Starting to remember me now?” His shiny berry lips quirked up in a cocky smile as you panted and shook your head, “Nuh-uh. I’ve sat on lots of faces. Gonna have to give me something more if you really want me to remember you.”

His raspy laugh had his nostrils flaring and he pushed at you, causing you to move off his face, “Fine,” he breathed as he sat up, “Lie down. Looks like you need something a little extra.”

Your back hit the mattress as he sat back on his haunches and pulled at your panties, tearing them down your legs and pushing your dress up your thighs, exposing your cunt to him as he lowered his face over you, his shoulders bumping into the back of your thighs to hold you down.

“Y/n, you taste just like you did before. So soft and sweet,” he ran his spandex-covered finger through your crease and you gasped at the odd feeling of it. He laughed at your reaction, “You’re wet enough that this should still feel really good. Tell me if it’s irritating to your skin,” his mouth and nose, and ends of his hair were still exposed as he circled two fingers over your clit and had his face tilted toward you.

When he opened his mouth wide and lowered it over your clit you grasped onto his hood and sighed. It was so good. Just like before. His tongue and lips and the way he gently sucked you in made you quiver.

But it was the odd sensation of his fabric-covered fingers slipping through your wetness that kept you very much in the moment. You kept imagining that the shiny spandex would soon collect all your wetness and you’d be left dry and it would start to hurt but it was the opposite.

The smooth material became coated and the extra friction from the fabric felt yummy.

He slurped your clit and took a good long lick upward from your entrance to your clit and then held up two of his fingers so you could see, “Look. Just want you to see this before I start fucking you with them. Nice and slippery,” he scissored his fingers apart and you saw the strings of arousal stick together,” But tell me if you don’t like it.”

“Oh my god…” you moaned as you craned your neck up to watch him as he slowly plunged them inside of you.

You tightened your thighs, but Harry used his free hand to hold you apart and the grin on his face as he watched his gloved fingers slide in and out of you was lewd, “Hear that?” He increased the speed at which he was fingering you, your wetness being pushed in and out with his fingers was definitely audible, “Bet that feels so good, doesn’t it, Y/n?”

You nodded and moaned again, still trying to keep your neck tilted so you could watch.

When he wrapped his mouth around your clit once again, though, you cried out and your head fell back onto the mattress in surrender.

His fingers, his tongue, and his lips had you writhing and moaning pathetically, “Oh fuck…” you cried as he curled his fingers just right, and flattened his tongue over your clit, his face aimed toward you as if he were watching your reaction.

He continued fingering you as he lifted his face and planted a sweet kiss to your clit, “How’s it feel? Do you want to come, Y/n?”

You moaned and gasped as you nodded, “Yes, Harry…” and the moment you said his name you knew you were busted. Your eyes widened and Harry’s grin took over his face, you could see the beginnings of his dimples.

“Figured you’d remember me,” he kissed your clit again and spoke against your pussy, “Hang on, sweet girl. Gonna finish you off properly.”

And finish you off he did. Properly at that. He held you down with one shoulder and one hand as he fingered you with his other and sucked and dug into your clit. The noises were obscene. From the wetness you’d created, to the fast pace of his fingers pushing and curling into you, to his slurping and moaning…

“Come on baby,” he coaxed when he felt your thighs shaking and your moans turned into whimpers and cries.

His tongue flicked side to side quickly and then he dug in as if he was sucking the last bits of juice off a mango and the vibrations from his moans had you seeing stars. You gripped his head and shouted his name as you came in his mouth. You thought you heard a laugh come from him but you were so far gone in ecstasy that you couldn’t care. You knew you were being loud but it wasn’t every day that a man came around to give you head the way Harry was.

When you’d opened your eyes you noticed you pushed his mask up further with how you’d been hanging on, nearly his whole nose was exposed as he softly licked upward from your entrance to your clit. He removed his fingers and was cradling the underside of your thighs with both hands. Like a loving little gesture to help you come down.

Suddenly he was hovering over you and had his lips pressed to yours. Your first kiss of the night and it tasted like your pussy. But you liked the taste of pussy so it didn’t bother you.

You could feel Harry’s hard erection on your thigh as he licked into your mouth and cupped your face.

It felt so sweet and so desperate at the same time. You knew he needed to be taken care of too. He deserved to have the favor returned after the way he’d just handled you with such precision.

Pushing at his shoulders he gasped as he parted from your lips, “What do you need, Harry?” You asked him.

He moaned and rolled his hips down so you could really feel him, “You. Just you. Whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grinned and wrapped your finger around a chunk of his hair, “But what do you want? Want a blow job? Want to fuck me? Want my hands?”

Harry exhaled heavily and dropped his mouth open, “Can’t stop thinking about how good you felt on my cock. The way we fit together.”

You bucked your hips up and nodded, “I can’t stop thinking about it either. You felt so good. Stretched me out so nice.”

“Fuck.” Harry quickly moved off of you and stood at the edge of the bed before opening up the side drawer, “Need a condom.”

You rolled over and opened up the other side table drawer to rummage through it. Not finding anything other than pens and loose charger cables. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad about rummaging through a stranger’s things when you had Harry Styles about to fuck you.

Harry adjusted his cock as he quickly walked to the dresser on the other side of the room and looked through the top drawer and let out a groan of relief, “Fuck yes.”

Holding up the condom he placed it on the dresser and untied the top of his spandex suit. He was still wearing the mask, though it had been pushed upward and his hair was exposed at the ends, slightly more grown out than the last time you saw him, but he was too focused on his task to worry about how funny he looked with his mask half covering his face. The moment he untied the top he began to pull at the suit and peel it down his toned and tattooed torso. You sat up and watched him undress. He had no underwear on just as you suspected.

You had to laugh at the spectacle. Just like a woman wearing a cute tight body suit, men had the same issue with needing to remove the entire thing in order to use the bathroom, or in your case, fuck.

“Heey, don’t laugh. Beauty comes with a price.” He grinned as he kicked the body suit away and opened up the condom, slowly putting it over himself. He looked over at you and tilted his chin upward, “Get your dress off. Wanna see those pretty tits.”

You giggled and pulled at your stretchy dress, easily removing it by the time he made his way back to the bed. He climbed over you, his mask still covering his eyes as he leaned down to kiss you.

The way his mouth moved against yours and his hands found your breasts and your ribs and your tummy as he moaned and licked at your tongue gave you a surge of need. You lifted your hips toward his and slid your hands down his torso to grab his cock.

He pushed himself down into your hand and then reared back gently to slip his shaft through your labia, wetting the condom, “This is gonna be better than the first time. No performance anxiety with a third watching.” He grinned down at you as he moved back to take you in below him.

You laughed as he pulled at your thighs and lifted your legs over his, angling your hips upward so your bottom was positioned on the tops of his thighs, “Were you nervous last time with Heidi? It was your idea? And… can we take this off?” You gestured to his mask.

“Heidi? That was her name?” He responded as he pulled the mask off from over his eyes and tossed it behind himself. “Sorry, I barely remember. But… I wanted you to think I was cool. Plus she was kinda cute. But it was really all about you.”

You pushed yourself up to your elbows at this revelation, “Wait. You only invited her because you wanted me to think you were cool?”

He shrugged and smiled shyly, “Yeah. Knew you liked girls too. Figured it might make you like me if I was cool with that.”

You shook your head, “And then you just never reached out to me again after?”

He puffed out a soft laugh, “I don’t know. Felt like maybe you weren’t as into me. Didn’t want to embarrass myself.”

You took his hand and pushed your fingers between his, “Well, after this it looks like we’ve got some talking to do. I kinda thought you were too cool for me so that’s why you never bothered.”

The look on his face was surprised, “Me? Too cool? That’s not… no way. If anyone is too cool it’s you, Y/n.”

You laughed and tugged at his hand, “Please, Harry. Just fuck me.” You were relieved to see his eyes and the top of his head finally. Just as handsome as before, hair slightly more undone from the hood he had over his head, but it was perfect for what you two were about to do.

Harry let out a shaky breath and looked down to where your entrance was wet and softly clenching for him already. His lips dropped open as he leaned forward, your hand still in his, pressing it down to the mattress next to your head as he pushed his tip in.

“Ohh…” you breathed out and watched his face scrunch up as he plunged in slowly.

“Feel that? This the reminder you needed?” He whispered lowly as he inched in.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you watched each other and he began to move in and out, deeper on each thrust. Heavy breaths and soft moans until he’d reached into you as far as humanly possible, hips rocking into you and fingers tightly squeezing around yours.

“Fuck me… Fucking condom sucks but you… holy shit…” Harry moaned and began to roll into you faster.

You reached your free hand up to move his hair from his face, “Harry… you feel so good inside of me. Oh, my god…” The snap of his hips wetly collided with you as the small bed creaked gently.

Harry held himself up with one hand, palm flat on the mattress as pushed into you, his muscles tensing and flexing above you, “Yeah? Feels good just like you remember? You’re so wet for me, Y/n. Didn’t know you needed me so bad,” he panted his words.

You were wet for him. So wet it was almost embarrassing, but you were glad in a way because he was quite sizable, and if you’d been any less wet it might have hurt. But as it was, the slip and the stretch and the way he could drag himself in and out was delicious.

You cupped his face and moaned loudly as he pounded into you harder. You could feel your tits wobbling and the bed dancing under your back. Harry was groaning and his eyes grew dark fast. Every time he bottomed out he ground himself into you deeply and you gasped at the ache, “Careful! You’re almost too deep!” You breathed out your words in a rush.

His cocky smirk meant that he took that as a compliment, so he did it once more, his eyes pinned to yours as he slowly stuffed himself into your cervix, “Ahh! Harry…” You widened your eyes and then he pushed himself back to his haunches.

“Sorry. Can’t help it,” he spoke, still grinning at you as he smoothed his fingers over your clit and worked his cock in from the new angle.

You knew he was long and that he’d reach deep, but that kind of deepness usually wasn’t achieved without you being on top. Even average-length guys felt deeper when you were on top. But Harry, of course, wasn’t average-sized. And you could tell he was very aware of that fact. Proud of it even.

With his fingers on your clit and the new angle his cock was nudging into your little sparkly, yummy soft spot inside over and over again. You moaned his name and he let go of your hand to fondle your tits. He continued a nice pace, slipping back and pushing in, long, exquisite strokes that filled you and stretched your insides apart. You could only imagine how he’d feel without the condom inhibiting the texture of his skin pressed into your skin. The friction, the way his foreskin would move inside of you, and his swollen tip uninhibited by smooth latex would really make the drag something.

“Yesss!” You moaned as he hit your spot perfectly, the repeated glide of his thick crown into your g-spot, had you trembling.

Harry breathed hard through his nose as he looked down to where he was fucking into you and back to your eyes, “Gonna come already, Y/n? Tell me how good it is.”    

“Fuck, Harry… You’re so big and you're pressing into something inside of me that I can’t… I’m gonna… it’s so good… so full… oh fuck! Gonna come…” you babbled and moaned as the bed squeaked and the headboard softly tapped the wall in time with Harry’s thrusts.

“Shit. Was gonna fuck you doggy but if you come I’m gonna come, baby. I can’t help it. Your wet pussy is just sucking me in,” he pressed down over your clit and hastened his fingers and you could feel him shaking.

You tensed your thighs and cried out just as a knock came to the door. Someone was saying something but you were gone. Your ears were ringing and your loud cries and buttery, mouthwatering orgasm were all you could focus on.

Harry groaned and pushed into you a few more times, before he couldn’t hold back, dumping his come into the condom with a choked moan.

He could hear someone threatening to unlock the door but Harry was in bliss. There was no way he could stop his cock from twitching and coming and you were so sweet and pretty below him with your face scrunched and your cries of nonsense.

The cliché of time standing still had been true in that moment. You couldn’t stop trembling and clenching over him as you felt his cock throbbing inside of you. Harry’s own orgasm just prolonged yours. He had leaned over you, his fingers in your hair as he pushed into you with gasps and soft whimpers.

When you finally opened your eyes and Harry had caught his breath the door was opened and Harry turned back quickly, covering your frame with his broad chest, “Sorry! We’ll get out. Just… let us get dressed,” Harry’s words came out breathy and stuttered as he was still breathing heavily.

“Harry? God damnit! Just… Fine. You owe me, man.” The guy who was speaking closed the door. You never saw his face because Harry had covered you and when he sat back he smiled softly at you.

“Want to go back to mine? Stay with me tonight? We can talk a little.”

You grinned and sighed with a nod, “Of course. And then maybe if you’re up for it, you can fuck me doggy like you wanted.”

Harry breathed out a laugh from his nose, “Oh I’ll be up for it.”

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[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim… (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal/Silence of the Lambs, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of violence and cannibalism, kidnapping, stalking, suggestive content

♡ notes; I’m kinda surprised this prompt won out for a part 2 but very happy lol, I had some fun ideas.

the whole gang is not here, just some kinda kinky guys again- I feel like this doesn’t work super well for every single slasher? only some of them are psychopaths AND perverts

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Bo Sinclair

> bo was having a rough day

> your friends had been putting up one hell of a fight, killing the first four was a huge pain in ass

> so by the time there’s only two of you left, he hasn’t even gotten a proper look at you

> it’s not until you come back to the gas station, wide eyed and begging for help that he finally notices you

> god you’re cute- you can be last

> he drops the nice guy act and gets you to the chair- rough as always and threatening you the whole way

> but then he notices it’s all a lot easier than usual today

> he glances up and can’t help but grin

> your cheeks are bright red and your chest heaving- you like being restrained

> “i’ll be good- promise—“ you mumble before he can be a smart ass

> he gags you anyways, but he praises you as you open your mouth for him to stuff the rag it in

> he can hear you whimper as he does and he’s just itching to leave so he can come back

> he leans over, one hand planted between your legs to steady himself

> he can hear your breathing catch as he simply kisses your forehead, snickering as he leaves

> you were really something

> a pretty, obedient little something that would last way longer than a day if you kept it up

Danny Johnson

> he’s worried you saw the flash of his camera through your window that morning

> he’s normally so careful, he can’t believe he slipped up like that- honestly he’s surprised you didn’t call the cops

> you must have been too groggy, or maybe it wasn’t as dark as he thought it was at the time. maybe you noticed but didn’t put two and two together

> he needs to kill you soon anyways. he’s been watching for a while, and he’s wasting time

> he settles back into his usual spot where he can see perfectly into your bedroom

> he sees you frown just a tad as you pick up the phone call from an “unknown number” - but you still pick up

> “Hi there, doll .”

> he’s called you more than once, this “ghost voice” that’s been terrorizing you- and god is it a nice voice

> a nice voice that says vile things. some of them just violent, some…well some things you like too much

> you can see you make an expression he doesn’t expect. you bite your lip, cheeks pink

> he’s seen that look before…not for Ghostface, of course, but for Danny

> you were easy enough to befriend, and it just gave him more opportunities to keep tabs on you

> like most people he charms, you clearly have a crush on him, and that little lip bite is about the same face you make when he flirts

> maybe he’s just seeing things

> you couldn’t be that perfect.if you were he would have to keep you around

> he continues on and on, observing you carefully

> and you just keep getting more and more flustered, even when he’s threatening to choke you stupid

> “you know you’re so cute when you blush like that,”

> what you say next comes just about as close to scaring him as you can get

> “Thank you, Danny.”

Hannibal Lecter

> you weren’t quite as close to victimhood as one might assume

> but he was a fast killer once he had a mark set- you had to impress him more than a bit to be considered and then ruled out

> you start as his patient

> you’re a meek thing, easy to read and fragile

> you’re practically asking to become an entree

> if you taste as good as you look, you’d be his best dish yet

> it’s not hard to get you alone outside of an appointment

> you’re delighted when he invites you to a dinner party- you’ve heard great things about his little get togethers

> and he even lets you help him get ready, setting the tables

> the conversation become macabre as you discuss some recent murders that police suspected were committed by a cannibal

> that he committed for the sake of the dinner party, naturally

> he corners you before you can realize it - he likes playing cat and mouse

> you giggle nervously and look up at him

> he’s got a hand on the wall above you, and he notices your eyes linger on his toned forearms

> many patients and victims have crushes on him, it’s not surprising or a deterrent

> though it surprised him the gristly conversation wasn’t bothering you

> “yknow, it must be nice to know you’re safe from that serial killer in the neighborhood. If he is a cannibal, he’s most likely to chose someone more sedentary.”

> you leave him there, as if you hadn’t said something so delightfully offputting to find a vase for the table

> maybe he could do some further studying….

[greenglowinspooks]

Gävle Goat v.s. two drunk half-ghosts (DCxDP)

—

Tw: alcohol consumption (no way), one(1) mention of sex

Summary: Jason and Danny accidentally burn down the Gävle goat. You all voted for this, and I delivered. Merry crisis, tis the season and all that.

—

Jason wove through the ever-shifting crowd, an irritated scowl on his face.

Kori and Roy had dragged him here to celebrate a successful mission together, but the two had wandered off together not thirty minutes after they arrived, effectively stranding him in an unfamiliar club in Europe.

Now, his only two options seemed to be stealing someone’s car and getting back to their temporary safehouse himself, or waiting for the two to come back for him.

Still, considering the lecture he’d get from Dick if he hotwired a random guy’s car just because he didn’t want to wait for his friends, option one wasn’t much of an option at all.

It was humiliating. He was a crime lord, not a little kid who’d lost their mom in the store.

Jason sighed, slumping against the wall as he watched the drunken crowd swirl together.

He had never really felt at home in places like this, especially not since his resurrection. It always felt like people were staring at him, like they just intrinsically knew that he was other.

Jason startled when he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” The stranger said, “I just, um, are you okay?”

Jason blinked. The person talking to him was clearly somewhat tipsy, wearing a blush on his face and a slightly loopy smile. How had he possibly snuck up on him? Was he really that deep in thought?

“My asshole friends ditched me, and now I’m stuck here,” Jason blurted out without thinking. The stranger barked out a laugh, clearly surprised.

“That sucks,” he said, leaning on the wall next to Jason. He hummed in response.

The stranger looked back at the open bar, where quite a few people were frantically miming to him. He motioned back to them, clearly hoping for them to stop, before just flipping them off. Jason chuckled at that.

“Those your friends?”

The stranger blushed brighter, the tips of his ears going red.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here to celebrate some legal stuff that I finally got done with, but, uh, they wanted me to go talk to you.”

Jason hummed again, giving the stranger a quick once-over. He was actually pretty cute; he had messy black hair, icy eyes, and an outfit that screamed “I’ve never been in a club before but my friends dragged me here anyways”.

If he was gonna be waiting for Kori and Roy anyways, why not have some fun?

“Well, I am technically here alone, now that my friends wandered off,” he said, looking at the stranger meaningfully.

The stranger grinned brightly, holding a hand out to him.

“Then, d’you wanna hang out with my friends and I? I promise we’re lot of fun! I’m Danny, by the way.”

Jason took his hand, the beginnings of a smile on his face.

“Call me Jason,” he said, following along as the (surprisingly strong) man dragged him over to his friends.

-

Danny was having the time of his life.

The restraining order on Vlad had finally been granted. The abolition of the Infinite Realms’ monarchy had gone through. And, on top of all that, he was on the most incredible club-hopping adventure of his un-life.

And sure, it might not have been the best idea to give ghost alcohol to Jason, the mortal his group had picked up in Germany, but he was taking it like a champ!

He hadn’t thrown up yet, in any case, so clearly it wasn’t that much of an issue.

Danny giggled, leaning up against Jason as they walked along the street, his ghostly friends filling the street.

As the night went along and they all got more and more tipsy, they’d mostly let go of their mortal forms. Despite being surrounded by a bunch of ghosts with death-blows clearly exposed and mythological creatures, Jason didn’t seem to be too bothered. He had an arm wrapped around Danny’s shoulders and was singing along with some of the ghosts in Arabic(?), his lovely baritone voice echoing out amongst the dead and unborn.

Danny just snuggled further into his side, enjoying the novel feeling of human warmth. He’d have to get Jason’s number after this, Danny sluggishly thinks. If he wasn’t freaked out by Danny being dead once he was sober, at least. He found that most people weren’t quite so open to cuddling up to a corpse. Even if that corpse could talk and walk around.

The streetlights around them began to spin as they once again walked into a rip in the veil. Everyone cheered as the lights warped and distorted, the sky becoming neon green and foggy.

Danny stumbled forward on unsteady legs, dragging Jason along with him. He wanted to get to the front of the group, to see where they were going before everyone else!

Jason tripped as Danny continued to drag him along, stumbling off the path and straight off the Realms island they were currently on. Danny, still clinging to him like a lifeline, fell alongside him.

A cheer from the spirits rang out above them, unaware of their mistake, fading as they fell. Before Danny had a chance to call out, though, they fell through another rip in the veil.

-

Jason sat up. He’d fallen face-first into a snowbank, and judging by the pair of legs sticking out of the snow, Danny had a similar fate. He dragged Danny out of the snow by the feet, tumbling over nothing and falling over in a heap.

Danny rolled over, laying down in the snow next to him with both arms around his waist.

Jason just looked up at the sky in awe.

It was most certainly the alcohol, or maybe the lack of pollution, but the sky looked so much more beautiful than usual.

There were so many stars in his blurry vision, and each one twinkled and shone and spun like they were dancing.

With a tremendous amount of effort, he got to his feet, dragging Danny up with him.

He twirled the man in his arms, his legs unsteady as he tried to waltz. Danny giggled, trying to match his uneven steps.

The arctic wind blew over them, carrying with it the snow and ice of the ages. The wind curled around them, spinning in circles around the pair as they danced. Sprites of fire glimmered in the corners of Jason’s vision, glimmering cheerfully. It seemed that something had caught alight, but nothing was going to distract him from the man in front of him, grinning widely with a blush that covered his entire face.

Jason fell over again, collapsing in the snow, and Danny fell over on top of him.

-

Light shimmered down from the snow-covered trees, falling onto Danny’s face. He scrunched his eyes closed, groaning in agony.

He was so, so hungover.

Served him right for agreeing to go out partying with Johnny of all people.

Danny’s head pounded to the beat of his heart, his core humming in rhythm. He buried his face into the fabric beneath him, trying desperately to block out the light from reaching his sensitive eyes.

Where was he, anyways?

The area around him was definitely snowy; even arctic, maybe, judging by how strongly his core was thrumming. Still, he was perfectly warm, laying on top of…

…a person?

Fuck, he was never partying with Johnny again.

Through great willpower, Danny squirmed off of the stranger and sat up, scrunching up his face as he turned away from the sun. It didn’t make his headache any better, though; the snow reflected the light almost as bright as the sun itself.

Fresh snow can have an albedo of 0.9, Danny remembered, a college lecture popping into his head. It had the highest level of albedo of anything on earth. That’s why it was bouncing the light of the sun directly into his poor sensitive eyes.

Of course Danny would wake up next to a strange man and the first thing that he thought of was science facts.

The man next to him groaned, immediately bringing his arm up to block the sun.

“What the fuck did I do last night?”

“I know, right?”

The man went abruptly still. It took all of Danny’s willpower not to laugh.

“…Do I still have my kidneys at least?”

Now Danny did burst out laughing, bright and cheery. And then he groaned and clutched his head.

“Oh gods my head hurts,” Danny hissed, “does this happen every time you drink?”

“Not unless you hate your liver.”

Danny laughed, and they both fell into silence for a few moments. It wasn’t comfortable silence by any means, though; it was unbearably tense and uncomfortable. Danny almost wished he could die on command, if only to get out of this.

“…Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Fuck yes,” Danny said, getting to his feet before helping the other man up. “Your treat?”

The other man laughed loudly.

“We’ve known each other properly for a total of five minutes, and you’re already bleeding me dry?”

“Come on, I’m a college student, it’s basically my job to ask for free food.”

-

The two of them sat in utter silence as they ate, watching the TV in the corner of the diner with a fascinating flavor of giddy horror.

Someone had burnt down the Gävle goat, and from the footage, it was very clearly them.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, luckily; the video had gone so staticky that it was very nearly unwatchable. But when combining the scene on the shitty box TV to Danny’s (very limited) memories of the night before, it was clear that they had done it.

“…Knew I forgot something that happened last night.”

Danny barked out a laugh at Jason’s comment, which earned him a sly grin in return.

“Better or worse than getting laid?”

“Eh,” Jason shrugged. “With most people? Better. With you? Worse.”

Danny laughed harder, wrapping a leg around Jason’s and waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, arson isn’t the worst end to a first night out.”

Jason snorted.

“By the way, are you a meta? I just assumed, with the fire and all…”

Danny looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, I thought that was you.”

“What?”

Danny summoned a small burst of wind, twirling it around in his hands, creating tiny snowflakes.

“I can do that,” he said, gesturing to the snow, “but, like, fire? Nope.”

To Danny’s utter shock, a core in front of him pulsed in confusion, his own mirroring it.

Jason’s core. Jason was dead.

Jason looked at him, his face pale.

“Did you feel that too, or am I having a heart attack?”

Danny laughed nervously.

“As long as we don’t get arrested, I promise I’ll explain everything on the way back to Germany.”

—

Notes:

If Jason really was alive, he wouldn’t be for long after drinking ghost alcohol.

I brought up albedo because I learned something new in science class. Godbles

The wisps were Jason’s core forming and activating for the first time. That’s also what got the goat

[lqfiles]

SCORE THAT GOAL! — 25. NOT my boyfriend

(wc: 1.054)

“thank you for waiting for me.” chenle had walked over to you with a happy smile present on his face. you returned the expression and stood up from the bench you had sat on. “no problem, i felt like being nice today.” you joked and handed him the bottle he had asked you to hold for him. chenle chuckled. “i better savour this rare moment then.” dapping the sweat off his face with his shirt, he quickly put on his jacket and motioned for you to follow him out the basketball court.

“did you see that c cut i did when i was cornered by all of them? i'm too good at this.” chenle boasted as he continued to gulp down his water. you shook your head. “i'm going to be honest with you, i barely understood what was going on but you scored a lot of times so i'm just going to agree with you.” chenle laughed, sparing you a quick glance. “that’s all that matters.”

“what’s with the sudden request of watching your club practice anyways? do you like my company that much?” you teased, earning a nudge from chenle who quickly went into defense mode. “don’t get too full of yourself, sungchan snuck away when i wasn’t looking and left me by myself today. can you believe he said he’d rather go home and sleep than attend the club today?” chenle exclaimed in full disbelieve, making you chuckle.

“that’s actually very on brand of him.” you responded back, smile growing as you watched chenle accept the truth. “well yes- but, what happened to bros being there for bros? what happened to the saying ‘be a keeper, not a sleeper’?” chenle sulked. the two of you had started to walk without much of an aim, barely aware of where you’re heading too. the wind was carrying the journey and neither of you cared.

“you just made that saying up yourself.” you once again chuckled and chenle sighed. “whatever, this is why you should’ve joined the basketball club instead. sungchan is fake and you’re my bff, the fact that he is in the club and you aren’t just doesn’t make sense!” chenle had a mixture of a disappointment and annoyance on his face, trying to get sympathy out of you. clearly you didn’t care, because you just laughed in his face right after. “hey, be happy sungchan joined.”

“and if i had joined the club, i wouldn't have gotten to talk to jisung.” you reasoned and chenle let out a long groan, throwing his head back before he stopped in his tracks. “what do you even see in that guy? he’s weird, can’t communicate with people for shit, tall in a derogatory way and did i mention that he is weird?” chenle tried to persuade you. yet the grin that grew on your face made it clear that non of those negative traits changed your perception of jisung.

“he’s cute and good looking, he’s fun to talk to as well now that we’re friends.” you had never seen chenle’s eyes widen like that, on the verge of bulging out even. “friends?! no way… next thing you know he’s going to replace me as your best friend. i can’t let this happen.” chenle complained, holding onto your shoulders to shake some sense it you. you removed his hands, starting to feel dizzy already.

“calm down, you’re still my bff! i want him to be my boyfriend, that’s different!” you tried to explain, but the unconvinced look on chenle’s face made you sigh. in a swift motion, you pulled him in for a hug, one tight and full of assurance that would hopefully get chenle to stop sulking. “i’m serious, it’s not easy to replace you.” you pulled back with a smile and you could see chenle fighting his mouth from twitching into a grin itself. he scoffed before nudging you away (patting your head once before doing so) “i better not be.” he finally smiled.

a smile that left all too quickly, forming into a frown. “speaking of the devil himself.” chenle whispered, making you turn around instantly. you almost screeched seeing jisung standing a few steps away, stopped in his tracks as he waited for the two of you to finish your affectionate moment.

“jisung! what are you doing here?!” you exclaimed, an awkward smile forming on your lips as you sent him a wave, simultaneously taking a few steps away from chenle. jisung was silent for a second before hesitantly lifting his hand up. “hi?”

“well, i.. i forgot something at college, but you guys were kind busy. did i.. interrupt something?” jisung said carefully, exchanging looks between you and chenle who had a scowl set on his face. you turned and almost gasped at the expression chenle wore, quickly tugging him aside and hitting his ribcage.

“ah sorry, we didn’t meant to block your path!” you apologised and moved all the way off the side walk, motioning for jisung to walk past. “thank you.” he muttered, gaze moving from you to chenle who was still threw him a nasty glare. “i-i’ll see you tomorrow..?”

jisung wishes he never assumed his previous encounters with you were peak awkwardness, because nothing could beat the awkward silence that overtook the air at this current moment. you were stood 10 meters away from, trying to give him space to walk while your friend looked at him like he was mentally putting a curse on him. all of this happening in total silence.

“y-yeah. i’ll see you tomorrow. hope you find your stuff at college.” you were hesitant to move, hoping jisung would move first. he did, picking up his previous pace, sparing you one last glance.

only when he turned the corner of the street did you let out a breath of air you had been holding in. the first thing you did now that you could breathe was repeatedly punch chenle on his upper arm. “ow! what was that for?!” chenle took steps back from you and your assault.

“no what was THAT about? did you have to glare at him? now he probably thinks you hate him.” you rubbed your hand over your face in distress, it didn’t help that you could hear chenle laughing from beside you.

“he wouldn’t be wrong.”

previous — master list — next

notes ; ngl the next chapter is going to be so cute 😝

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[madamechrissy]

Lucid Dreams

Pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem Reader ( reader is a ghost)

Summary: You died a year ago, and now a really hot Nanami Kento moves in to the apartment you're tethered to. You love to fuck with him, shuffle his papers, knock over his things, but you also love to watch him sleep. One day, he ends up seeing you. And... yep, how do you move on to the next realm? Maybe by getting railed by Nanami!?

NSFW- smut, lovemaking, explicit sex, she's a ghost so supernatural kinda?

Word Count- 3.5k- one shot

Hehe this is just a cute little story I got a request for. (It's literally crack fluff smut) Happy ending don't worrryyy. Just fluffy silly cute shit.🤭

Nanami Kento stepped into his new apartment, it was all redone since you had lived there, what’s it been since you died, a year now? You looked at how handsome this man was, dressed in a suit impeccably, sliding the jacket off to reveal toned, perfect arms. You step closer, and suddenly he shivers, as if he could feel your energy, but there’s no way…

Your energy had been fading lately, perhaps the longer you have been dead the less you have, but something about his presence made it flicker once more. You’d had fun haunting the last couple that lived here, ugh but their love annoyed you, because it’s not like you got any love in the twenty five short years you had on this plane of existence.

You expected heaven or something? Or some other life… but no, you just lingered here, in your old apartment, which looked nothing like it did. You could get down almost out of the building, just enough to stare at the moonlight longingly, remembering what it was like to talk.

You don’t talk, no one would hear you anyway.

Well…

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” You murmur as this blond sexy man rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing toned forearms.

Maybe you do speak?

You watch him every day, for a week, come home and do the same routine, over and over. He takes off his glasses, he sighs, he sets down his briefcase, he sighs, he goes to take off his jacket, he sighs. Yes this man sighs a lot, and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhausted from the long hours he clearly works.

You worked a lot too back in the day, overworked yourself to death, hoping for an early retirement, until someone hit you with a car

Yeah.

Maybe that’s why you can’t leave, you’re still so pissed, when you had to look down at your body, when you had to see your parents cry, before they left and never came back around. You couldn’t see them, no you were stuck here, and you don’t know why, endlessly lonely and bored. But… now?

Nanami Kento is here, and you enjoy his presence. You watched him from the shadows, your translucent form barely outlined against the wall. As the days turned into nights, you observed him with a fascination that flared up deep inside you, watched him as he slept, when his usually stern face would relax. You would always brush his hair back, but then one day you realize something.

His hair moved.

You touched him!? He opens his eyes, and you gasp, hovering over him, and the hazel eyes widen, but then he blinks, and you disappear. Nanami sits up, shirtless and chiseled within every inch of his life, fuck the man is absolutely beautiful, and he’s looking around the room.

“Hey, is … fuck I’m losing it. Is someone there?” You gasp, backing away from the bed then, as Nanami looks around, clearly sleepy and confused.

“Yeah.” You whisper, curious, and he bolts up, and then you see it, the bulge in his boxers, and you flush bright red… can ghosts blush!? Maybe? He was clearly huge, and apparently ghosts can get wet too.

Huh.

“Listen, I need my sleep. Please don’t annoy me.” You’re in shock, at how casual he is, and you laugh suddenly, apparently he notices because he glares. “Seriously, go… do ghost things and let me sleep.”

He’s back in bed, and if your heart still beat, it would thud.

You keep watching Nanami Kento, but now you mess with him, jumbling up his papers, just to enjoy the delight when he would yell at you. You would move his toaster just an inch, mix his spoons and forks, laughing maniacally as he would get so flustered, shifting them back. He is always so meticulous, that throwing him off becomes your new thrill.

On one evening, you watched as he flipped his light switch several times, each attempt to illuminate the living room met with flickering bulbs. You’re giggling as you keep fucking with the lights, clearly annoying this man, and you could feel bad, but he’s so cute when he’s annoyed.

“What now?” He mutters, and your laughter echoed softly in the corners of the room. Nanami’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed in irritation. “You are here again. Can you stop fucking around? Do you need to watch a movie?”

“You’re asking a ghost to watch a movie?” He whips his head again, as the storm outside rages, and the lightning illuminates the room, and suddenly his eyes are dead on you, wide in shock. Your eyes go wide right back. “Fuck… can you…”

“See you. Yep.” You fade away, frightened then, and he reaches for you in a few long steps, gripping your arms. You feel his touch, just like you had when you were alive, hot on your skin. “I’m touching you!?”

“I don’t know how you can even see me.” You whisper, and he just keeps holding you, this six foot something gorgeous man, and you don’t know how you look to him. “Am I ghost like?”

“No, you look like an… alive person. Is this offensive to you?”

You laugh softly. “No, I’m not offended. I know I’m dead. Just didn’t know how I look to you, to me I look the same.”

“You look beautiful.” You freeze, as does he, a blush on his high cheekbones, his lips pursed a bit. “I see you in my dreams. You give me those?”

“No, I wouldn’t know how! Um, you do?” He nods then, and you tentatively cup his face, feeling the stubble on his jaw. “Fuck if I was alive I’d have been simping so hard for you.”

“Simping? You talk odd.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“Not a ghost at least.” Your eyes widen, and he goes to apologize, but you just laugh then, breathless. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe this. Hello, Nanami Kento.”

“What happened to you?” He murmurs and you sigh, looking down, enjoying his touch far too much.

“I was hit by a car.”

His beautiful hazel eyes fill with concern, why can you even feel his warm breath, his body heat? How?

“I'm so sorry. Why are you…”

“A ghost?” He nods. “I don't know. I was a good person, just worked a lot like you. I didn't have anyone too close. I don't think I have unfinished business.”

“That's horrible. Are you stuck here?” You nod. “How often do you watch me. Hmm?”

You giggle at his question. “Not when you're naked. That's not very consensual is it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your body is beautiful though from what I have seen.” Nanami blushes again, and it makes his cheekbones stand out even more. “Hey don't worry I'm not trying to date, I'm dead.”

He grimaces, he still hasn't let go of you. “Your humor is morbid.”

“Morbid? I'm dead. Duh.”

“Dear lord. Listen how can I help you move on?”

“Tired of me knocking your cups over?” You smirk and he glares down at you. Fuck he's hot.

“I'm very tired of it, yes. But also I'd like to help. What's something you wish you did before you died?” Nanami asks softly and you hum, touching his chest then, feeling the heart pumping blood in his veins, his hard muscles under your palm.

“Wish I worked less and relaxed more. Wish I had a life. Wish I had loved. Fuck my life was depressing…” you frown as you speak, and Nanami studies you seriously. His hands are sliding down your little shoulders, down your slender arms, making you tremble.

“I know how that feels. I could say the same. Well what do you-”

“Can I try something?” You whisper, cutting him off. He nods. You tiptoe, because no you can't float, that's so bullshit by the way, and you press your lips to his, feeling them hot on yours. You moan softly as little sparks float, making you feel alive. He is tense, unmoving. “There, a perfect kiss. Have I moved on?”

He shakes his head, and your breath catches when he yanks you to him by the waist, pressing you up against his hard body. “You're still here,” his voice is husky now. “I've had some interesting dreams.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

“Where you're on top of me in my sleep… where you're sucking my cock and I can't see you.” You blink rapidly, as his words fill you, and he's caressing your lower lip as he talks.

“Oh yeah?” Your hands trail down his perfect abdomen then, feeling it tremble. “Ghost head, huh?”

“In another dream I get you to manifest long enough to return the favor. And you dissappear once you cum all over my face.”

Now you are soaked.

Wait can you still fuck!?

“How rude of me not to ghost cuddle you afterwards.” You grin then and he moans softly, as you feel how hard he is against your tummy.

“How long until you disappear again?”

“I don't know, this is all so weird. Fuck I'll try though.” He snatches you up then, and your legs wrap around his narrow hips, then you're slammed into the wall, and somehow you don't just go through it, your physical form is there, as he holds you up. He kisses down your throat and you cry out, hands in his silky blond hair.

“Nanami!” You whine out, and he kisses down your chest, as you eagerly grind against him.

“Even better than the dream…” His words make you ache, yearn for more, to be real to not be dead. Fuck the life you could have had.

“Nanami I can't. I can't do this. It'll hurt too much having a taste.” He looks at you then, lips parted, big hands sliding your top right off your head. Huh, that comes off?

“Why shouldn't you. It's not fair what happened. How long have you been alone?”

You're crying, and yeah ghosts can cry, those tears are falling and disappearing as they do. “But what if I move on and can't see you again?”

Your eyes lock, as you realize what you're saying. “If it's your time, darling, it's your time. But for now, I'd love to fuck the reason I'm constantly hard. If I fuck you well enough, would you please stop shuffling my papers?” He pouts then, and you giggle, fuck you’re a ghost but you’re giggling, in his arms.

“I promise.” You brush his hair back, as you had so many nights, having watched him sleep, having watched him just existing so beautifully, and now? He could finally see you.

Your lips meet in another kiss, and then he’s sliding a hand to cup your breasts, nipple rising against his hard palm, fuck he’s just so warm, and alive… you errantly wonder if you feel weird to touch. What does a ghost feel like? But when he sinks two fingers up under your skirt (Yep you died in a skirt) and groans-

“Fuck you’re so hot.” You figure you feel pretty good. And fuck if he doesn’t make you wetter than you’d ever been alive, he makes you feel alive almost. But you’re still not tethered to the Earth, you’re only tethered to Nanami.

“Please…” You whisper, and he eagerly lays you on his bed. “Oh shit, I was scared I’d fall through!”

He chuckles. “You’re kinda bad at being a ghost you know.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, you aren’t very sneaky.” He slides your skirt off, kissing up your thighs, and you feel his hot breath where you’re soaked, making your hips rock up. “I saw you a lot of times but I wondered if I was hallucinating. I work too much.”

“You really do. Nanami promise me… you’ll… oh fuck!” He licks you then, right up your slit, groaning against your pussy.

“Promise what, Darling?” He murmurs, and you struggle to remember.

“Oh… promise you won’t- ah - work so much. It didn’t do me any good, Nanami… now I’m dead and-”

“You feel alive to me. You feel perfect.” You’re crying, your little glittery ghost tears, as his eyes, seductive and lidded stare up at you, and he grips your thighs. He laps you up and you fall apart, like nothing you’ve felt before, yanking on his usually perfect hair.

“Fuck, worth dying for a taste of this.” You whisper out, and then he’s got two fingers in you again, working spots you have no clue are there, his mouth sucking in your clit, and you shatter, cumming all over his handsome face.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, and you cum again as he scissors his fingers into you. “Should I say Good Ghost?”

“Both work, shit, shit you’re so good. I wish I’d had you around.”

“I wish I could have met you.” He murmurs, leaning above you then, and your thighs wrap around his hips, as your little hands run up and down his body. Somehow this feels perfect, this feels right. “This is insane, isn’t it? Are you just a dream?”

“No, Nanami… you’re the dream. Maybe there’s something good for me… mnh! Oh fuck.” He’s rubbing his tip along your folds, and you soak him. He’s so huge, and thick, bigger than you had alive, but there’s no pain, just ridiculous pleasure when he slides inside your entrance, his brows together, lips parted.

“Oh fuck… Darling.” You cry out then, gripping him so tight, so afraid how quickly this would end, as he’s kissing you, as he’s entering you, stroking faster and faster, the bed creaking and the headboard smacking the wall. “You feel so perfect. You’re just so, so beautiful.”

“Oh my god!” Was there a god for you? Maybe Nanami was it. As he works over you, as he tears you apart, until you’re spasming around him, sobbing against his neck, as he keeps making you cum, fucking you from one orgasm to the other. “Nanami… mnh.. Nanami!”

“Don’t even… what was… your name?” He whispers, grunting as he fucks into you, and you struggle to remember, what was it? Oh. You tell him, and then he whispers it in your ear, as his cock is steadily slamming into you, against your cervix, so deep you felt you two were one.

“Kento… call me… Kento…” He huffs, slowing now, your thighs are pressed up, and if you weren’t a ghost? You’d let this man get you pregnant.

That’s how good it is.

“Kento! Oh Kento… it’s so good I- ah!” He’s pressing your thighs against your breasts now, groaning as he fucks you so hard, until he slows, and his eyes catch yours in the night.

“Darling, can I-”

“Can’t get a ghost pregnant- ah- do it!” He’s moaning now, and he fills you with a few more pumps, before hot liquid shoots inside of you, and you cum right with it, clinging to him like he’s your life line, rubbing your hips up for more. He kisses you, so sweetly, over and over, and you fall into it, into his arms.

“I don’t want this to just be once. Don’t go.” He murmurs then, and you’re crying now, as he leans down, easing out and making a mess of your cum and his, and you feel yourself fading. “Darling, please.”

“I don’t wanna go either. I don’t.” He’s holding onto you, and you feel it, some odd pull, like you’re being split in a million directions. “I wish I could have known you, Nanami Kento. Please, don’t make my mistake. Just live, okay?”

You see his own eyes glittering with tears. “I feel like I should have known you… you look so familiar…”

“Maybe we’ll meet in another life?” He just sighs, holding you close, and you hum, eyes fluttering shut. Ghosts don’t sleep, right? Why were you… sleepy?

He’s caressing your cheek, and you hum happily. “There were more dreams. Maybe… stick around? We can try them all?”

You smirk a bit, looking up at this beautiful man, one you wish you could have known in your short life. You brush his tear aside, smiling. “You deserve more than a ghost, stuck in the apartment.”

Then you fade.

It was a beautiful time with…

******

You wake back up, in your body and you’re… alive!? You rush to the mirror, realizing you’re in your apartment. You check the phone, and it’s the next day, the day after you died. No fucking way…

You rush out, and bump right into him.

Nanami Kento!?

You look up at him, wide eyed, and he’s staring at you curiously, a little smile on his face, he looks not as tired as the Nanami you knew, is he the same, you wonder? You realize he’s stepping out of the apartment next to you, and your mind goes insane, have you been in a coma, was it a horrible dream?

“Hey there, I’m Nanami Kento, just moved in.” He holds out his hand, and you take it, trembling, and he frowns a bit. “Sorry, are you all right?”

“Uh… no. No I’m not. Do I look familiar to you?” You ask then, softly, and he nods just a bit, a blush decorating his cheeks. Yours joins as you remember vividly, his tongue on you, his cock inside you.

“Very familiar. Do you work at the same building as me maybe?” You shake your head, sighing, and you realize he has his briefcase. “You are familiar but I just can’t really place it.”

“Huh… sorry I’m being weird huh? Should I let you go?” Then you wonder, can you leave this apartment? “Actually. I gotta go somewhere to.”

“Well, come on then.” He tilts his head, pushing up his green framed glasses, and you touch your chest, feeling your heart beat steadily. Was this heaven, was this another dimension?

Then as you all are outside, a car zooms toward you, careening off the busy streets, and you remember, this is when you die.

“Fuck!” Nanami has thrown both of you out of the way, onto the sidewalk, and he’s on top of you, breathing heavily. His eyes go wide then, as do yours. “Oh my god… you were dead in my dream.”

“I dreamt of you… that I was dead… I…” You’re trembling, and he eases off you, helping you stand on shaky legs. “Was it some prophetic dream? Was I supposed to meet you? This is fucking weird. I’m not dead!?”

He chuckles then. “You’re so not dead. I remember it all. It’s like a fuzzy dream though isn’t it?”

“Oh my god. You saved me!” You’re sobbing, and he holds you close, and you feel it all crashing, everything together. You can’t explain shit, except you are supposed to be in this man’s arms. Your neighbor.

“Should we get you checked out? I knocked you on that concrete hard.” He brushes back your hair, inspecting it then. And you just giggle.

“Do you remember fucking me too?” He’s bright red, his nostrils flaring just so, and then he’s dragging you back into the building. “Hey!”

“Fuck work.” He slams you against the wall of the elevator, pressing one too many buttons, as he cups your face, sighing. “You told me not to work to death, I remember it all.”

“This is fucking crazy.” He nods, but he’s kissing you, and oh god it feels even better, as your own heart thuds against his.

“I won’t let you fade away again.” You hear the emotion in his voice, and your arms wrap around his neck. “You were a really annoying ghost.”

“I was good in bed though.” He moans, your tongues are entwining, teeth clinking as you messily kiss, and then you’re in your apartment, ripping each other's clothes off, in a maddening state.

Both of your phone alarms go off, and you laugh softly.

“I was gonna wait a year to relocate.” He murmurs, and your eyes fly open, as you realize what changed. “Something made me leave.”

“I’m so happy. Fuck… do you think ghost pussy is better by the way? I need your expert opinion.” He’s chuckling now, yanking at his cheetah tie, and you stop him, shaking your head. “Oh no, leave that on.”

So you died… but then you didn’t? And Nanami Kento saved you, and he already knows you, he knows where to touch and where to kiss. You all both don’t go to work that day, no, you are going to get some R n R. <3  Somehow, and some way you were supposed to always end up in his arms, it feels like heaven.

[slutforth]

2009!BILL KAULITZ X FEM!READER

req: I was wondering if maybe you could write a headcanon or a fic abt Bill (2009 or 2008) dating fem!reader , who is a rapper and who has a total different clothing style (like super girly, etc)

cw: Heated makeout session, but nothing actually happens. Revealing clothing I guess?!?

a/n: Tysm for the request, I had lots of fun with this 😈 sorry it's short :P

"Thank you all, and goodnight!"

You yelled into the microphone, inflicting thousands of screams from all your fans that came to see you. Seeing all their happy faced made you so grateful that you had made it this far with your rapping career.

You ran off stage, your little white miniskirt doing the bare minimum to actually cover anything, but you didn't mind. You loved the attention, especially from your boyfriend. Bill.

People always found your relationship weird because of the stark contrast between your styles and how you dressed.

Bill stuck to a more edgy or "emo" style, with his dark eye makeup that you absolutely adored and his black and white dreads that sat perfectly on his shoulders. As well as the heavy and big pieces of jewellery that he decorated almost every outfit with.

Whereas you had a more girly style, always having your hair down or in some type of cutesy updo. You always made sure to incorporate pink into your outfit somehow, whether that was the whole outfit itself being pink or just a cute ribbon in your hair.

And not to mention that most of your outfits were quite revealing, especially the ones you wore on stage. Miniskirts and tight little shorts that left little to the imagination made it torturous for Bill to watch you from the wings.

Which is why, as soon as you were off stage, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to your dressing room. You just giggled, knowing that there was a raging problem under those baggy camo pants.

"Bill, as much as I'd love to... yknow.. help you out, I'm on again soon." You explained, knowing that he probably wouldn't let up and just try yo fuck you anyways.

"Don't care.." He growled, a firm grip still on your wrist. It was turning you on, seeing him all dominant and sexually frustrated.

You obediently followed, a silent gasp leaving your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting on the curve of your hips and your plush thighs.

He cupped your face, smashing his lips onto yours to release all the pent-up frustration he had from watching you on stage in your pink little crop top and white mini skirt. He thought he was going to burst.

You let out a little moan into his mouth, feeling his hands slowly start to guide your hips back and forth against his lap. The friction from his pants onto your safety shorts felt way too good.

"Mm... Bill.." You breathed between kisses, his hand never leaving your hips to make sure the pleasure remained between your two bodies. He needed release, and he needed it now, but making out was one of his favourite things.

He slid his tongue into your mouth, gently probing and exploring as you kissed him back. The seam of his pants felt amazing against you, only making you grind down harder onto his lap.

The reaction you managed to get out of him caused you to smile into the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening as his lips stuttered against yours. You caught him off guard.

You put your hands on his chest, trying to break the kiss from air, but as soon as you did, Bill latched onto your neck, one of his hands travelling up and massaging your breast through the fabric of your shirt.

"Bill.." You breathed out as you glanced at the time, knowing you'd have to go on soon, so you wanted to stop whatever this was before you went back on stage.

"Shut up for a sec, hm?" He grumbled, clearly not happy that your attention wasn't fully on him. Instead, it was on your performance. Which was understandable, but it still annoyed him.

"Just keep moving those pretty hips." So you did, grinding slowly as you kept adding more pressure between you, only increasing the pleasure more and more.

You guys kept making out until you heard and abrupt knock at the door of your dressing room, followed by your manager yelling. "On in 5!" You pulled away and looked down at Bill with a smirk, knowing you were right after all the times you told him you needed to be on soon.

"Fuck." He rolled his eyes.

[horangare]

my babysitter’s a vampire

pairing : vampire!hoshi x human!reader

content : smut (mdni), strangers to ???

in which : your parents hired a babysitter after deeming you as the “irresponsible” older sibling. when someone who isn’t junhui shows up in his place, you’re instantly captivated by this handsome stranger and his shiny white teeth.

warnings : grinding, fingering, finger sucking, big dick soonyoung, blood, mentions of a knife and minimal bodily harm (you cut your finger), unprotected sex (but mentions of birth control, be safe either way), cocky soonyoung (ugh i want him so bad), you threaten him with a fork, bff!chaeryeong, dirty talk, pet names, bulge kink (i think that’s everything but pls let me know if i forgot anything)

wc : 4.8K words

note : look y’all i am the youngest of four sisters so idk if my portrayal of a younger brother is a good one but…this is for u hoshi nation horanghae.

“What do you mean?! I don’t need a babysitter!”

Your mom sighed deeply, searching her jewelry box for her matching earring. “I’m sorry honey, but you do. Your sister clearly isn’t responsible enough.” You rolled your eyes, but remained quiet. “And I know Junhui’s mom. She says he’s a very nice boy who’s good with children.”

Ever since you and Chaeryeong shut yourselves in your room to rewatch Girl From Nowhere for the millionth time again and speculate if there would really be a third season, (Chaeryeong insisted there would be, while you thought the opposite) the fact that you were supposed to be babysitting your younger brother had completely slipped your mind. When your parents returned from their date, they pulled into the driveway only to find Leo out there screaming his head off.

After that, you were quickly deemed “irresponsible” by your parents and no longer allowed to be Leo’s babysitter. What did they want you to do? You couldn’t spend all summer break looking after the little brat. Anyway, it’s not like that was the part that bothered you, but the fact that you couldn’t talk or beg her out of it either.

“Mom, come on! I’m eight and a half now! I can pretty much babysit myself!” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway so your mother couldn’t leave the room without giving him, in all his childhood glory, the explanation he felt he so richly deserved.

“It’s too late. Junhui is already on his way and we’ve already paid him.” She leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good.”

Your brother glanced to the side, like he was actually considering not being on his best behavior, before nodding and smiling at your mom. “I promise.” What a little shit.

“That’s my boy. And the same goes for you, [Y/n]. Chaeryeong over but she cannot stay the night. Am I clear?”

You smiled, not even bothering to make it seem real or genuine. “Crystal clear, mom. Have fun with dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. We should be back at around eleven.” Your mom mumbled, making her way down the stairs and to the front door where your dad was waiting. You followed behind her, mostly so you could slam the door in a pitiful act of retaliation and lock it shut until your friend arrived, but also because you wanted to see what this Junhui kid looked like up close.

You’d seen him maybe once or twice before around campus or at the cute little coffee shop you frequented, but you had never gotten a close hard look at his face before. Some of your friends knew him, according to them he was kind of weird, but made up for it with his sense of humor. Maybe he could keep you some decent company before Chaeryeong showed up.

The boy on the other side of the door was not Junhui. At least, you didn’t think so. This boy was a little shorter, a little blonder, and a lot finer than you’ve ever seen Junhui look.

“Oh! Hello, are you…Junhui?” Your mom asked, raking her eyes over the boy standing before her.

“Hi. No, sorry, Jun couldn’t make it. I’m Soonyoung, I’m a friend of his. Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure. Leo? Your babysitter’s here!”

“He’s so hot. And he’s totally your type, don’t you think?”

“Chaeryeong, please!” You slapped your hand over her mouth, earning a dirty look from the girl standing beside you. She was right, this Soonyoung guy was super good looking, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. He was still a stranger after all. A hot one, but a stranger nonetheless, and it was only normal for you to have your reservations. “He’s not even the guy who’s supposed to be here. Junhui was supposed to be Leo’s babysitter. He says he’s his friend.”

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, not understanding what your problem was. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. Look, even Leo likes him.”

You and Chaeryeong watched from the kitchen island as Soonyoung helped Leo with his homework in the living room, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your brother smile while doing homework. Neither of you could hear what they were saying, for some reason you doubted it was about fractions—fractions were not funny.

The longer you observed them—mostly Soonyoung—the more you realized how right your friend was. He was fine. Really fine. It’s like there was some kind of aura around him, something almost otherworldly.

That’s when you started to stare. Like the hard, not even blinking type of stare. Soonyoung turned his head over his shoulder, the two of you making eye contact in what felt like the most awkward way ever. He smiled at you though, which made your cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, before giving his attention back to your brother. Chaeryeong, having watched the entire exchange, grinned while looking you up and down.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled.

Feeling like a stubborn child about to throw a tantrum, you narrowed your eyes and pouted. “Was not.”

Your friend was no doubt satisfied with herself, cooing at you and cupping your face with her hands to squish your cheeks together. “Denial is not a good look for you. Come on,” she released your face to pat you on the shoulder. “let’s go watch a movie before I leave.”

Looking back at the living room, you saw your brother sitting on the couch alone with no signs of Soonyoung. Some babysitter, you thought, leaving the kid he’s supposed to be looking after alone. How could your parents leave someone so irresponsible in charge of your brother?

Oh, wait…

“Just wait for me in my room. I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” She nodded, heading upstairs to your room while you made your way to the bathroom in the hall and swinging open the door.

“What the fuck?” Soonyoung shouted, tearing his eyes away from the mirror above the bathroom sink to look at you. Gasping, you took a step back from him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” You started to apologize, glancing behind him into the mirror and you froze. The spot where his reflection should be was empty. You took another step back.

“You didn’t know…what?”

If you weren’t so scared right now, you would’ve definitely been offended by the way he was speaking to you like you owed him an explanation for wanting to use the bathroom in your house. You looked at him, then the mirror once more, trying to make it as subtle as possible.

“Uh…nothing! So sorry again.” You said, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the tension and backing away from him far enough until you were close enough to retreat up the stairs and to your room. Chearyeong, seated comfortably in your bed, snapped her head away from her phone to see you clutching your chest and panting.

“Woah, what happened?” She asked as she sat upright. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” With one of your hands, you gestured that you needed more time to catch your breath before taking a deep breath and stepping closer to the bed.

“He doesn’t have a reflection.”

Chaeryeong raised one of her eyebrows. “The babysitter? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure! He was in front of the bathroom mirror but the mirror was, like, empty!”

You could tell she wasn’t really sure whether you were telling the truth or not, making you groan and cover your face with your hands. “I’m really fucking serious! There’s something wrong with him, Chaeryeong!”

A heavy sigh sounded from Chaeryeong’s place on your bed. “I don’t know…what kind of person doesn’t have a reflection?”

“All humans have reflections,” you shrugged, your head tilted as your mind considered each and every possibility. “maybe he isn’t human.”

Chaeryeong snorted and rolled her eyes. “What is he then? A vampire?” The comment was definitely meant to be a joke given the way she’d said it, but the way your eyes widened and jaw drop was all too serious. “Oh my god, is he really a vampire?”

You looked around your room frantically, feeling the smallest bit of relief when you saw your laptop resting on your beside table. Chaeryeong made room for you in the bed, watching as your fingers flew over the keys.

How to identify a vampire.

“Asks to be invited into your home…no reflection…powerful presence or aura,” you skimmed over the first three bullet points shown before you and felt your mouth go dry. Soonyoung, so far, was definitely fitting the description of a vampire.

“Look,” Chaeryeong pointed to the next bullet point and read it aloud. “When a person is injured, make sure to find out if their focus is more on the injured person or the injury itself.” You looked at her, unsure of what his point was. Nobody in the house had been injured?

“Yeah, so?”

“So we’ve gotta injure you.” She scoffed, a little confused as to how you weren’t following her crazy thought process.

You leaned away from her. “What? Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re the one that wants to prove it so bad, aren’t you?” It was hard to argue with that one, you were the one who brought it up in the first place. You grumbled and slammed your laptop shut.

“Fine! But if we do all this and he ends up being just some guy I’m expecting a very long apology from you.”

Chaeryeong just smiled brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Soonyoung had brought Leo up to bed much earlier than he thought he would; your brother mumbled something about using all his brainpower on the fractions, and Soonyoung had laughed and tucked him into the covers. When he returned downstairs, he noticed the kitchen lights were on. Once he reached the bottom, he could see Chaeryeong holding your quivering body in the kitchen, a knife and an apple discarded on the kitchen island.

“What happened?” He asked, the faintest hint of worry in his voice.

The truth of what happened is quite simple; you and Chaeryeong snuck down here while Soonyoung was putting Leo to bed, she gave you a small (but still painful) cut on your index finger, and now you were standing here trying to sell it.

“[Y/n] was gonna split this apple with me, but I totally forgot how awful she is with knives. I think she cut her finger open, does it look bad?” Chaeryeong grabbed your wrist, holding your now opened hand closer to Soonyoung’s face. The blood had pooled where the cut was and started to streak down your finger. He sucked in a breath, struggling to look away from it.

“Y-Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” Soonyoung gulped, watching the red liquid falling down past your knuckles. He licked his lips, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you pulled your finger away. Then and only then did Soonyoung look at you in the eyes again.

“Everything okay? You seemed kind of distracted.” You tilted your head to the side. “You seemed really focused on the blood, don’t you think?”

Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh please, I was not.” You and Chaeryeong exchanged a look, and you held up your bleeding finger in front of his face again. Soonyoung’s focus shifted once more, his eyes zeroing in on the streak of blood that was beginning to go dry. You turned away to rinse it under the sink and shook off the water once it was all washed away.

“Yeah, okay.” Chaeryeong said, reaching into her pocket and handing you a band-aid. “So you’re a vampire, right?”

To say the least, Soonyoung seemed shocked and offended that you had caught him so easily, as if he hadn’t been the most obvious vampire ever. “What? A vampire? Please, how could you ever think that?” It was almost pathetic how he was actually trying to convince you otherwise when the evidence was already there, maybe he actually thought he could wiggle his way out of this.

“Look, we already know. Just drop it.” You sighed, and Soonyoung did the same.

“Aw, mannnnnnn.” He whined. “What gave it away?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Chaeryeong asked him, her voice riddled with sarcasm. Soonyoung looked down and mumbled the word “no,” and Chaeryeong nodded pointedly. “Thought so.”

So you were right. Soonyoung was a vampire. He was also your little brother’s babysitter. It’s funny, you could’ve sworn you’ve seen a show like this before a really long time ago, one whose name wasn’t coming to mind right now. Whatever, back to the main point. Soonyoung was a vampire.

“Why are you here?” You questioned him, holding up a fork to his neck. “Are you gonna kill us?”

“Woah, um, first of all,” He closed his hands around yours and lowered it, and you noticed how cold he felt. Probably another vampire thing. You snatched your hand away, and he seemed confused, but shook his head and continued on. “That silver thing? It’s just a myth. Second of all, why would I wanna kill you? It’s not like your parents wouldn’t notice. Not to mention we don’t go feeding on people randomly, consent is a thing, you know.” You could’ve laughed at that. A creature that survived off of draining the blood of others caring about their right to say no seemed ironic.

“And anyway, did you seriously expect to kill me with a fork?”

Chaeryeong burst into laughter, though she tried to play it off by coughing when she saw you glaring at her. “Sorry…” She picked up the fork and the knife and dumped them back into the silverware drawer to prevent you from making any more threats against Soonyoung. Your parents also didn’t trust you with metal utensils for…reasons similar to this.

You rolled your eyes. “So what happened to Junhui? Why couldn’t he come?”

The blond shrugged. “I dunno, he said that he was feeling sick, so he asked me to come in his place. Does that really matter?”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want some freaky undead creature looking after my little brother!” You retorted, raising your voice just a little. He might’ve been against eating people, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still a monster.

“[Y/n], that’s kinda…” Soonyoung held up one of his hands, signaling for Chaeryeong to stop talking.

“How do you know Jun isn’t a vampire?” He tilted his head as he asked that, then pursed his lips while he waited for your answer.

So he was a vampire and a smart-ass. Great.

“I don’t know!” You turned your head away from him. “This is just…freaky. I didn’t know vampires could be so—”

“Witty? Handsome? Charming? I know, I get that all the time.”

“Stupid.”

Chaeryeong laughed again.

Soonyoung raised one of his eyebrows. “Stupid guys must be your type then. Well, according to Chaeryeong, if I heard correctly.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “You heard all that?” Soonyoung nodded, smiling when he noticed the way you reacted.

“Every single word. You know, maybe you should do more research.” He flicked you on the forehead and grinned when you let out a yelp of pain.

“Anyway.” Chaeryeong mumbled. “It’s getting late, my sister is on her way to get me. Good luck with…” She gestured between Soonyoung and you. “whatever you’ve got going on.” She reached forward and grabbed the discarded apple from its place on the island and padded upstairs to get her stuff from your room.

A gleeful smile crept its way onto his lips as he turned his head to look at you. “She’s leaving. You know what that means, it’ll just be me and you once she’s gone.”

“If you try anything, I will go get the fork. I don’t care if it kills you or not.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed through the kitchen. It was weird, he didn’t sound or look like an evil blood-sucking monster. He just looked and sounded…normal. And a little shiny.

“Later [Y/n]! Bye Soonyoung. Have fun!” Chaeryeong waved to you from the stairs. You replied with a goodbye of your own, and Soonyoung hummed, listening for the sound of the door closing shut before turning you around and pushing you against the island.

You gasped. “What are you doing?” The way you squirmed in his hold was amusing to Soonyoung, acting as if you could get away. You were so cute, thinking you could get away from him. This would be more enjoyable than he thought.

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of me. I can make you feel so good, baby.” You scoffed, the sound turning into a low moan when he started grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“I’m not afraid of you,” The shakiness in your voice poked a hole in your believability, but Soonyoung didn’t think too much of it. He lowered his head to the side of your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You shivered with a horrible realization; you liked it.

“Mmm, then maybe you like me. Is that why your heart is beating so fast?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

A whine echoed through the kitchen. Your whine. “Wait, my parents…”

You gasped a second time when Soonyoung turned you so you were facing him, and you watched him roll his eyes with that annoying smile plastered on his face. “Oh, them? They’re coming home late. Your mom locked the keys in the car, so they’ll be a while.” Just when you were about to respond, he turned you around again, the feeling of his breath on your neck making you shiver. “So just focus on me, got it?”

His hands traveled over your body, stopping to squeeze your chest or your ass. You should’ve been embarrassed with how you reacted so eagerly to his touch, but he was actually making you feel good. Well, whatever. It’s not like you’d actually let him know—

“I can get rid of these, right?” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pajama pants, pulling them down along with your underwear the second you gave him a nod of confirmation. The fabric drops down your legs and pools at your feet and you kicked it aside. Soonyoung reached between your legs, collecting the wetness between them and holding it up to your face, fingers glistening with your arousal. “Look how wet you are for the freaky undead creature. You like this, don’t you?”

“N-no. I don’t like this or you.” Even though you said all that and shook your head, Soonyoung could tell you didn’t mean it. He reached between your legs again, this time to ease one of his fingers inside of you.

“The way you’re moaning for me says otherwise.” As he said that, he pushed another one of his fingers past your walls and eliciting another one of those not so subtle sounds from you that he loved. You didn’t even have to see him to know that he was pleased with himself getting you all worked up like this.

He was arrogant. He was full of himself. He was a smug bastard. He was all of that and more, and it was making you weak in the fucking knees.

Three of his fingers were inside of you now, stretching you so good that it made your head spin, and you bucked your hips against his hands like you’ve never been touched a day in your life.

God, you’d never live this down.

You bit your lip so that he didn’t get the satisfaction of hearing how you were falling apart over his fingers, or how good it felt when he curled them inside of you just right, or how he had your legs shaking every time he reached your sweet spot. As if he needed the vocal confirmation (he heard the noises you were making regardless), the way you were trembling was pretty much a dead giveaway.

“You know, you still owe me a little blood.”

“What?” You turned your head as much as you could to look at him over your shoulder. Soonyoung’s eyes were darker than they were before, his hunger evident through his gaze.

How could you owe him blood? What did that even mean?

“You owe me some blood,” he repeated. “Waving your finger around in my face and refusing me a taste. You have no idea how worked up you got me all over that flimsy little cut.”

Judging by how his dick was still poking you, you seriously doubted that.

You turned your head back around, not wanting him to see your face as you weighed your options. You didn’t really know what would happen if he did bite you. Would it hurt? Would it feel good?

Only one way to find out.

“Just…do it fast.” You tilted your head to give him better access to your neck. Soonyoung smiles wide—not like you could see it, but you were imagining that he was in this situation. He withdraws his fingers from their place inside you, much to your dismay, but he’s now holding them to your lips. He groans when you open your mouth and allows him to slip his fingers in and mumbling something that you can’t pick up over the sound of your thumping heartbeat.

“It shouldn’t hurt too much, but let me know if I need to stop.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the spot on your neck that he was sinking his fangs into no more than a second later, giving you no time to process his little act of intimacy. It stung for a moment, but what followed the initial sting of pain was the most intense and overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Soonyoung moans with absolutely no shame when your blood fills his mouth. He’s never tasted anyone as good as you, and he realizes that he could quickly become addicted to you. Your sounds, your blood, your pussy, each and every part of you inside and out was intoxicating.

You wrap your hands around his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth, wanting to have him hear your next words clearly. “Fuck me…please.”

He nearly chokes when you ask him that, forcing himself to pull away just so he can ask you to repeat yourself. He licks the remnants of your blood from his lips and your wound so that it’ll seal. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Clearly your expectations for him were still far too high, because instead of taking you to bed or at least the couch, he had you laid on the kitchen floor. Yeah, you’re definitely never living this down.

And yet despite all this, you can’t help but drool when you finally got to see Soonyoung’s cock beyond the confines of his sweatpants. He looks down at you, smirking, and despite your heightened arousal you still feel an urge to kick his cocky little ass.

“Can you get down here before I change my mind?”

He waves at you dismissively as if he hadn’t been the one all over you. “Need a condom. Got one on you?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m clean and on the pill. Come on, just fuck me already, oh my—”

Soonyoung happily lowered himself onto the floor, his lips on yours as he guided himself inside of you inch by inch. He tasted like your blood, obviously, but there was an also a faint taste of pink starburst too. Something he probably got from Leo, no doubt. The combination was weird, but somehow you figured it suited him.

“God. So f-fucking big, Soonie!”

Gone is the last bit of your composure with Soonyoung’s cock buried inside of you, blurting out any thought that came to your head against his lips.

“Shhh, not so loud, baby,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want to have your bother wake up and find out what a slut you are, would you?” Yeah right, you think. Leo could sleep through anything, including you getting dicked down by his babysitter. But getting called a slut by him in that sickly sweet way had you clenching around him. “Fuck, warn me if you’re gonna do that.”

“Like I knew it would happen.” You hissed, making him laugh. He found this back and forth thing going on between the two of you fun, especially when he could get you so worked up and vice versa.

He waited until your body had relaxed to start moving, having to keep one of his hands over your mouth each time he thrusted into you because despite what he’d said earlier you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It wasn’t your fault that the kitchen was so echoey or that Soonyoung was giving it to you so fucking good.

“You’re such a cute little thing,” He laughed breathily into your neck. “I loved how much of a fight you put up for me baby. Now look at you. You’re mine.”

“All—ah—yours,” your words were muffled by his hands, but he understood you perfectly. The embarrassment you felt earlier was gone, completely replaced with thoughts of him and his cock splitting you open right here on the floor.

You felt him nod, “Mhm, you’re all mine, and I’m all yours. God, wish I could just fuck this sweet little pussy forever.”

A laugh managed slipped past your lips and he finally moved his hand away from your mouth. “You can say that?”

“God? Duh.” He sneered, becoming more and more aware of just how clueless you really were about vampire culture. “Can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you right now.”

You were just about to say something else when Soonyoung changed the angle of his hips, slamming into you even deeper than before. Your back arched, chest pressed to his, and a second later you let out a frustrated groan.

“You still fucking suck.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

He opts for a faster pace after that, spurred on by the way you close your eyes and babble his name over and over again as if it’s the only word you can say. He’s so desperate to cum, to get you to cum, to have him be the only thing on your mind when you make a mess of yourself all over him. He whispers for you to keep your eyes closed, taking your wrist in his hand and bringing it to your stomach.

“Can you feel me? Right…” He moves your hand around a little before he finds the correct place, “here?” Blindly, you press down on the spot, and your eyes shoot open. He’s so, so deep, you can’t keep it together anymore.

“F-Fuck, feels so good,” your breath hitches at the end of the sentence. “Need more…”

“Yeah? Pretty baby needs more?” Soonyoung raises one of your legs over his shoulders and you swear you start seeing stars with the way he’s fucking you. “You’re so t-tight, sweetheart. Gonna cum?”

“Mmm, yeah, so c-close. Make me cum, Soonie, need it so bad.”

Soonyoung lifts his head so that he can kiss you, only breaking it to quickly mumble the words “me too” before his lips are back on yours and his finger is rubbing your clit until your body goes limp beneath his and he feels you squeezing him so tight it triggers his own orgasm, slowing the speed of his thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

Your head feels fuzzy, and you barely register the feeling of him pulling out or lifting himself off of you while you lay there and catch your breath. “Soonyoung?”

There’s no immediate response, and it makes you confused as to why. You try to lift yourself off the floor but the soreness hasn’t quite subsided, so you’ve no choice but to stay put. “Yeah, just leave me on the floor. Not like I need your help or anything.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting you to be all sticky.” He huffs, wiping the insides of your thighs with a damp washcloth, then proceeding to wipe down the floor and the top of the island.

“I’m still on the floor, Soonyoung.”

Smiling, he helps you to stand and even manages to get you back into your underwear and pajama pants. He won’t stop looking at you like he has something to say. Maybe, for once, it’s something important.

“What?”

“You wanna go again? I’ve still got a ton of energy.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he did. “Oh come on, I know you liked it.”

“That’s it, I’m getting the fork.”

[miss-multi45]

It's time to write more for creepypasta.

cw: s m u t. fem!maid!reader, praise, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, choking, p in v, reader gets called 'whore', 'puppy', 'princess', 'baby', 'pretty little maid', 'good girl', exhibitionism, hair pulling, one (1) ass slap, reader is wearing cherry lipgloss (katy perry), fingering, cumming inside. enjoy this once in a blue moon experience of cassiopeia writing a full blown fic. *mwah.* inspired by @lordprettyflackotara the queen that she is.

Working as a maid for Slenderman wasn't all that bad.

You got your own little cabin just a little ways off from his large and dark manor, sometimes (if you had any off days) you could go flower picking in the nearby field and make friends with the rabbits and deer.

But of course, it came with a lot less fun aspects. Such as most of the male residents of the manor constantly staring at you, practically eye-fucking you and envisioning what you looked like beneath that cute little lace and satin maid outfit of yours, they wanted to corrupt your innocence.

And while yes, there were some gentlemen there that knew how to treat a lady and had been around since maids were first introduced, most of the men there were pervy, repressed, and depressed creeps that had never seen a woman naked besides porn.

But anyway, that wasn't something you wanted to or had to think about right now. Right now, you had been sent to dust and clean a closed-off section of the manor that only Slenderman had access to and knew about. Or so you both thought.

It wasn't a big area, which was pretty easy. It was just two rooms with grey walls, cobwebs and mildew on the ceiling and corners of the room, and slightly rickety floorboards.

Nothing too complicated, so you got to work.

Getting rid of the cobwebs was no trouble, the mildew higher up was difficult to do since the ceiling was high. You pressed a hand up to the wall to steady yourself, getting on your tiptoes and reaching your other arm up high to scrub at the walls as much as you could. And that was when you heard a familiar voice.

"Aw, is the pretty little maid having trouble?" Ben.

You jumped, letting out a gasp and almost dropping your brush. "What the-?" You spun around, only to back up against the wall because he was right in front of you.

"H-how long have you been there?!" You splutter, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

He smirked, tilting your chin up to look at him. "Whole time," he admitted, "But I only decided to speak up when I saw you on your tiptoes, accidentally showing your ass in those pretty lace panties."

What?! You must've had an alarmed expression, because you earned a chuckle from Ben. "What? Don't tell me you actually didn't realise?"

Stuttering for an answer, you tried to walk away, but Ben wasn't having that. "Ah-ah-ah. You're not going anywhere. I want you to stay right here and show me how pretty your pussy is underneath those slutty panties."

You didn't want to admit it, but you had been a little pent up since a little while after you started this job. The last guy you had sex with wasn't a virgin, but he clearly didn't know his stuff. He didn't even make you cum, you had to do that yourself after he left.

And now you were in front of a guy who knew how to talk and knew his stuff? Sure, he was a ghost and he only knew his stuff from porn and hentai, but he still knew his stuff. And he was really, really hot.

Nervously, you nodded as a way to give consent. You were avoiding eye contact, Ben didn't like that.

"Look at me." He said, running a thumb across your lips. You complied, although you got instantly shyer once you did. "Good girl." He mumbled, getting closer to kiss you.

When he finally had your pretty glossed lips against his, he decided to lift you up by your thighs and keep you there. With one arm under your ass and the other on your back so you wouldn't fall, he kissed you until you were running out of oxygen.

He eventually pulled away, leaving both of you gasping for breath. "Cherry." He said, analysing the flavour of your lip gloss which was now slightly smudged but still made your lips a pretty pink.

"Cute." You heard him say, looking down at your breathless form. With him looking down at you, he could see down the neckline of your little dress, giving him a perfect view of the valley between your breasts.

"Pretty tits, baby." He sat down against the wall, reaching his arms behind your back to pull the dress down and reveal your bra-clad boobs. "Oh, they're so pretty.." he marvelled.

Your bra was a simple yet pretty baby pink, matching your panties. You took your dress off completely, so that your were only in your undergarments and he was fully dressed.

"That's a good girl, stripping for me without even having to tell you." He placed his hands on either side of your thighs, moving them up to your waist and back down again.

His touch was cold, but he was a ghost so it made sense. While he admired your body, you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, but he stopped you. "You're keeping that on," he shifted his hands up to cup your tits, rubbing his thumbs over your clothed nipples. "As much as I love tits, they're staying in that bra for now."

He paused for a few seconds, staring at your tits and giving them the occasional squeeze with his icy hands. "Your panties are coming off, though." after a few seconds of silence and groping your boobs, he slid your underwear off to your knees, immediately moving to run his fingers up and down your folds.

You fully removed your panties, spreading your thighs further apart and moving your hand to play with your clit. With a quiet chuckle, Ben slipped a finger into your cunt, pumping it in and out while he watched your face. "Oh..ah!" The sounds leaving your mouth were almost pornographic, and from what Ben was seeing you looked like something he would see in softcore pornography.

"Please..more..Ben, please." You drew out the last 'please', falling forward against his chest while your hand faltered at rubbing your already sensitive clit.

"You want more, puppy?" He ran a hand through your hair, resting your head in the crook of his neck, tugging your hair back to make eye contact with him. "I'll give you more."

He abruptly took his finger out, unbuttoning his pants and forcing you to keep eye contact. Eventually, you felt him push his tip inside, followed by the rest of him.

As he bottomed out inside you, he let out something close to a whimper. "Fuck..perfect princess has a perfect pussy..so warm.." His eyes were practically rolling back, you decided to take the lead for a bit.

Moving your hips back and forth, your plan backfired when a whine fell past your lips and you propped your hands up on Ben's chest. "Aw, is it too much for you? Is the pretty puppy getting all shy on me?" He teased, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing just enough to make you go lightheaded in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, that feels good doesn't it?" Ben loved the way anyone could just get curious and walk in, only to be met with the sight of the manor maid, riding the resident tech ghost while he made her dumb. "Good girl, doing so well."

Before you knew it, you could feel an orgasm imminent. Ben could feel his coming, too. "I've always wanted to fuck a pretty little maid."

In a matter of seconds, you felt Ben cum inside you. He didn't pull out, and you chalked it up to why Slenderman had told you to always be on birth control. You came soon after, your thighs trembling as your orgasm washed over you.

He gave you a few seconds to calm down, before reaching for your panties and sliding them back on along with your dress. He hugged you close for some time, before slapping your ass and getting up.

"Better get to cleaning, huh?"

I spent 3 hours on this.

[aclowntiny]

Ink Trails- Hongjoong x GN!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Just about everyone has a soulmate, a person they're destined to be with, to go through life with in some capacity. The mark of this? Anything you write on your skin shows up on theirs.

Word Count: 2.4k | Soulmate AU, Banter, Faint Humor | Warnings: a bit of language

You weren’t a big fan of drawing on yourself. As a child, you were something of a neat freak, washing all the dirt you could off your hands and never wanting to add ammo to the enemy in yours and the sink’s war. Of course, your favorite sheet of temporary tattoos didn’t count as dirt, not when they granted you several days of carrying your favorite character, a little purple penguin, with you. In fact, you practically ignored the rest of the sheet besides a few snowflakes surrounding him, all of which everyone told you were now decorating some other kid, too.

Well, good, you thought, your penguin was the best and they probably loved it, too. Otherwise they couldn’t marry you or whatever soulmates did. Usually it was get married. Maybe you would get married when you grew up. Your grandparents liked being married.

As you grew a bit older, you wrote in school. Sometimes your pen or pencil slipped, skimming your hand with an accidental line. Sometimes your soulmate was clumsy, too, and you watched a pencil trail appear when you didn’t even have one in hand. The weirdest was when you watched a whole shaky ㅎ appear, the circle looking a bit square, then suddenly erasing and being reborn round again.

And then just like that, it was all gone.

It hadn’t really been your habit to write things on yourself like others you knew- it just didn’t come naturally to you when you had paper and, a bit later in life, your phone. Beside that, given the marks of soulmates, any notes you wrote would appear on someone else’s arm, hand, anywhere they could get scolded for if they had strict family or teachers or a barrier to looking presentable at an academic event. It just didn’t seem fair. That was the same reason why, even years after school and becoming an adult, you chose not to get any tattoos. What if your soulmate hated it? Then they get it removed and you lose yours and the cycle goes on like some sort of stupid cartoon sequence of ink and lasers.

Ok, that part maybe not so much, but you knew how personal and controversial tattoos could be, so kinda weird to put one on someone else without their consent. Sorry about the penguin, you supposed all those years later, I was four.

Instead, perhaps preferably, you doodled a lot on paper, keeping at it even when that rude boy Matthew from seventh grade told you your cat looked so bad, it made him think it was a dragon holding a cookie. Such insults would not be taken from the guy who used ‘I don’t like the color red’ as an icebreaker ‘fun fact’…while wearing a red shirt.

Even if you were no artist, improvement naturally came with age and frequency, and you favored keeping your drawings cute anyway. Yet another reason to put them down on paper- pen ink faded from skin, but on paper, it was like a tattoo. Permanent with all your other notebooks of doodles that would have more than covered your body.

Your body, which was semi-frequently decorated anyway, not of your own accord. Your soulmate, likely around your age, had no qualms about use of the forearms as a notepad, so it wasn’t the oddest occurrence by far to wake up with things like ‘7:00 독주회’ or a more frantic ‘ENGLISH TEST 9:00’ scrawled there. Or even once a very unceremoniously written, shaky, clearly hastily added ‘BUMJOONG WAS HERE’ on the back of your hand. That was a fun one to try to explain. It made you wonder sometimes if your soulmate was a less considerate person than you or if you’d simply proven well in your restraint.

You weren’t expecting any answers, or perhaps more questions, to come in the form they all did.

The morning was like any other: it was your day off, time you’d reserved so as to endeavor some shopping. Making yourself a nice breakfast and choosing one of your favorite outfits, you hopped in the shower. Deciding what the heck, it was your day off, you even busted out the new sugar scrub you’d bought as peals of warm, crashing water echoed around you, lathering some exfoliant luxury upon the skin you’d always cared for.

Never once had you expected it to entertain anyone’s notice.

But there it was as you strolled along the concrete of the shopping center’s sidewalk, completely unaware of what was exposed until you ran into a friend, waving and exchanging the platitudes of two meeting after some time.

“Wow, (y/n), what a surprise, I didn’t know you got a tattoo! I thought you didn’t want any!” Your old friend Brian exclaimed with a wide smile, tilting his head. “May I see the whole thing?”

His words rose slowly to your head as you blinked, gears turning. For you had not, in fact, gotten anything of the sort done. Instinctively you held out your hand, assuming your soulmate had scrawled another vague practice reminder on the back of their hand or wrist, but your skin was blank, just a smooth expanse the same tone it always was.

“No, not your hand, silly! There!” Your eyes followed as he pointed down towards the ground, toward…your leg?

Swiveling at the hips, you bent and tugged on any necessary clothing to reveal, sure enough, writing near your ankle. Your chest sunk.

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you said quietly.

“What?”

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you repeated, voice a deadpan.

He pointed, finger rising slowly, almost shakily. “Then what’s-”

“I don’t know. I- I guess my soulmate did it.”

“Your soulmate got a tattoo without asking you?”

“We haven’t met,” you burst out as you raised the fabric around your leg higher, “I guess they don’t care what I think! What’s this even say, anyway?”

Frustration pricked at you at the sheer height of the piece- it wasn’t exactly dainty. Quite a ballsy move, all things considered. Sheesh. Wait, those were wings, huh?

“It says ‘faith’,” Brian supplied, “and I think it’s nice. Could definitely be worse. Could have been a partner’s name or, like, naked Spongebob or something.”

You cocked a brow. “Naked Spongebob?”

“Well, would you want that on your leg?” Brian shot back, crossing his black t-shirted arms.

“No,” you sighed, staring at your new, involuntary body art, “I suppose I would not. Well, you’re right- this is pretty nice. I can live with this. Hopefully it’s not the first one of many, though. My soulmate better leave me some control of my own skin.”

“Yeah, and if they don’t, you’d better give them a piece of your mind.”

A chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, right. I don’t even know where they are.”

“Have you never tried to find out?” Brian’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing at you like he was asking the dumbest question he’d ever uttered.

And maybe he was. Your chest contracted in realization that you had, in fact, never once considered taking any initiative into finding whoever it was had those recitals or English tests or who you really hoped had the spine to smack Bumjoong one for defacement of property. The person who, by the universe’s decree, was meant to be some miraculous piece of your life forever and you’d just…assumed they’d walk in whenever it was time. All your concern had gone to not bothering their appearance despite their clear lack of regard on the subject.

“Uh, (y/n)?” A hand waved in front of your face. Brian’s. “You’ve gone all spacey on me, what’s wrong?”

“Brian, I might be stupid.”

“Might?”

You descended back to earth, or at least close enough to its gravity, to find the wherewithal to smack his shoulder beneath the momentous echoing of reality throughout your brain.

“Also, I take it then the tattoo on your arm wasn’t your idea either?”

“The…what?”

Shopping day over.

~

Hongjoong couldn’t recognize his own handwriting. Or could he? Had he written that address on the back of his hand? He had to have. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. As if his schedule wasn’t busy enough, now here was some other errand he’d forgotten.

Pulling out his phone and typing it into maps, he saw that at least it wasn’t too far away. A reasonable drive, especially for a…tuesday? Oddly specific, but appointments were appointments, he reflected as he swiveled in his leather office chair.

After all, if it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t have written it down so visibly on himself like that. That was a habit he’d largely dropped in adulthood, image of greater concern and regard for mess a bit higher, too. Plus, the only other good it would have served seemed not his lot.

At least a fair number of songs had come from it. Ah, music- the eternal, universal processor. What would he do without it? Music was a way of filling every void-no, scratch that, coming to terms with the existence of voids within oneself- the thing that made him feel complete, or certainly one of them. Jokes had it that music was Hongjoong's soulmate, and while the songwriter didn't appreciate fun being poked at his expense, it was hard to deny the itching grains of truth beneath his skin at the words.

Music-related or not, this short trip was his lot, so why not make the best of it? After all, whoever had organized it picked a pretty nice café as the rendezvous point. Worst case, Hongjoong would at least get a coffee out of it.

~

You were starting to wonder if nobody would approach you, more singles and even couples getting in line and heading straight for a table or the door than you could count on one hand. In fact, in came someone else right in time with your thoughts, a super hot guy in fact, though he looked confused as hell. His eyes darted back and forth between the chalkboard menu and the industrial-style metal tables as he stood a little bit out of line.

Shit didn’t hit the fan until he pulled his phone out to check it, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His loose black t-shirt sleeve fell back, revealing a tattoo suspiciously similar to the second one that Brian pointed out on your own body. And that font was very, very unique. And big. And it was on you now.

Moving completely of its own volition, your body peeled from its metal seat and strode right up to him. No thoughts swirled to the surface of your mind even as you reached his side, prompting him to turn on his heels.

The only words your mind could barely form fell out of your lips. "You're the one who gave me these tattoos."

Jumping back, the man gaze at you with saucer-wide eyes, saying nothing as you pulled your own sleeve back to reveal the second and luckily last set of writing Brian had found on your body, this time reading 'No 1 like me', and again showed your ankle.

"I designed that one myself, how could you possibly-" His wide-eyed gape fell slowly into a smile. "I have a soulmate?"

"Yes, of course you do!" You replied, incredulous. "Did you think you didn't?"

"You never wrote anything!" He shot back.

"I was trying not to mess you up!"

"I just..." The man's handsome features fell, first into seeming hurt then just into a pensive look. "For so many years I taught myself to make my own way. Sometimes I was fine with it, sometimes I wasn't."

"No wonder you thought there was no one like you," you said before panicking, thinking better of it, "not that the tattoo isn't cool! And still true. I really like the font, actually? You said you designed at least one of these?"

"Yeah, I knew what I wanted, so I drew up the faith one and..." He tilted his head, sliding his phone from his hand back into his pocket. "wait, do you want to get a table?"

"Only if you buy me a drink," you teased, nodding toward your arm as you got back in line, "you owe me for these."

"I think you owe me for years of radio silence," the man shot back with a smirk, crossing his arms.

Heat crept into your face at the way he fixed the intense look at you, but you refused to back down. "The way you described it sounded like I taught you a valuable lesson."

"Pain can teach lessons."

Ok, you were about spent at that. "Are we really fighting over something as stupid as one free coffee?"

"I mean, fighting wasn't the word I would have used there, but you're right. I've got this one."

"Oh, you two are so cute!" The barista waved her hand as you placed your orders. "I love couples who bicker like old married grandparents! So, what are your names?"

You and your soulmate glanced at each other, your eyes sliding back into those deep, dark, expressive ones you wouldn't mind getting used to. He searched yours, too, and a small smile played on his lips that had you wondering what he was thinking... until you realized it, too.

Maybe you had wildly opposite views over the years on using your body as a notebook, but you two soulmates had the exact same sense of humor.

"We don't know," you both said at the same time.

"I'm Hongjoong," the man in black introduced himself, smiling wickedly now.

"(y/n), nice to meet you," you replied, bowing back to him.

The barista mirrored Hongjoong's initial shock at your confrontation as you both headed to your table, laughing now. Somehow that all came as easily as bickering, all your interactions up to that point having a certain flow you'd never felt before. Placebo effect? Maybe, yet the tug you felt the moment you first saw Hongjoong was yet to fade. It was like those old sayings: it felt like you two were making music.

"Ok, please don't think I'm being rude," Hongjoong's voice cut into your thoughts, "but I'm a songwriter, and I feel like I just have to write down some lyrics right now."

All you could do was just grin at that. Well, shit. Maybe now you really would have to try leaving more of an ink trail.

[writingshushf1]

Does your mother know?

Summary: "Now you're so cute, I like your style And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile"

When a new Ferrari driver crosses paths with the one and only Sebastian Vettel.

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, age gap, grief/mourning, slight mdom vibes, y/n being a brat, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 4.8k

Note: more filthy fiction w/ seb! they have a 8/10 year age gap, if that bothers you- don’t read! 

masterlist

There's that look in your eyes I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild Ah, but girl, you're only a child

You were the new Ferrari driver. That was amazing, you weren't the first AFAB racing, yet the only one to get in a position as high as that, in a top team. Charles Leclerc was your teammate and you knew him before, you were good friends, you often went out with him and his younger brother, who was closer to your age. The pre-season tests in Bahrain happened, but you didn't talk to the other drivers, more out of insecurity and fear of someone judging you, you preferred to stay in your corner, studying about the car and its possibilities.

Thursday and the day went very well, just press conference day. You saw some drivers, said hello and introduced yourself, but nothing too big, because the focus was different.

Friday was the day. Free practice to test how ready the car was for your style of racing. You arrived early and had lunch alone at the Ferrari hospitality, waiting for the weather to get milder so you could do the paddock walk. When you decided to go, you found Sebastian Vettel doing the same, alone; as soon as he saw you, he started to slow down to keep the same pace. Initially, you preferred to stay silent, you didn't want to bother him anyway - and as you consider yourself an annoying person in general, it would be better to keep your mouth shut anyway. He probably noticed your insecurity-and in a way, fear-of starting a conversation, so he decided to start it.

"Welcome to Formula 1." He smiled and you couldn't deny it, he had his charm. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I hope it was only the good stuff."

"Of course, the newest Scuderia Ferrari driver, who has had an impressive year in Formula 2 and clearly a great contender to take the lead away from the Red Bulls. As well as being the youngest female driver to win that position."

"I'm not that young."

"But you're younger than me, that's for sure." He chuckled low, patting her on the shoulder twice.

"Like you're that old."

"Death is already knocking on my door." You couldn't hold back your laugh and he discreetly paid attention to your reaction, smiling. "Anyway, how are your expectations for the weekend?"

"Great. I hope... Actually, I will get on the podium on Sunday."

"Ambitious, that's what I find amazing about you younger drivers."

"Like you were not the same in your Red Bull days."

"So I've got a fan?" The suggestive tone in Sebastian's voice at that moment didn't arouse anything in you, in your opinion, he was just joining in the fun.

"How could I not? I always saw you as a role model. Especially with your more recent community work.... In fact, if you need someone one day, I'm a person who has a pretty free schedule."

"I'd love to. Mick usually joins me too. Have you met him? You two would become good friends."

"He was from the Ferrari academy, obviously! It's years since I've seen him properly."

You may have understood a pretext that he wanted to set you up with the younger Schumacher, but preferred to ignore - well, that wasn’t actually the case for the moment, he just treated the younger boy as one of his kids. You said your goodbyes, as soon began what you had been waiting for all day.

Practice had been great, the car was living up to your expectations, so the podium you were counting on would come out on Sunday and you could prove to everyone who doubted your ability that yes, you deserved to be among the best. You were radiant, the team director even asked if there was something wrong, since most of the time you remained serious, without smiles and ready to kill someone if necessary; it was as if you could be who you always wanted to be, it was a hard way and the criticism would never stop, but nothing could take away what you were feeling. Going back to your motorhome - since you preferred to spend the weekend there and not in a decent hotel - you saw Vettel walking with his head down, taking his bike and leaving; you thought about saying hello, but he didn't seem to be in a good mood and maybe he wanted to be without anyone in his ears babbling about random things

Meanwhile, on the way back to the hotel, the German's mind could only think of one thing: Ferrari's new driver. Sebastian was conflicted by the conversation with you during the walk, it was strange for him, seeing such a beautiful person and feeling that buzz in his stomach, something he hadn't felt for months. Since Hanna died , he had completely shut down; just thinking about her brought tears to his eyes, because it was hard to live alone after spending since your teenage years by the side of someone you loved, a person who built a family - that now, he juggled between leaving the kids with her family and yours, trying to see them whenever you had a break from racing and that action made you feel guilty, of them not having their father there when they needed him the most. The grief had consumed his body, the first months the only thing that got him out of bed were the race weekends, but with each defeat, his mind weighed more and more; months later, he finally decided to start therapy, he needed to be getting better mentally, he couldn't stay in this situation forever, for the kids, for the team and for everyone that counted on him; and it helped a little, the depression was easier to deal with, the days were lighter, even though the feeling was there. Even though the beaming smile was back around the Paddock and his volunteering to help the environment was back in full swing, it still wasn't enough to make him optimistic about living, even though two years had passed since the whole tragedy and sometimes Hanna's voice came in his head, telling him to move on. For that reason, seeing you walking beside him, smiling and being interested left him with this strange feeling, of a piece of the puzzle finally being found again. He quickly cleared that thought away, it wasn't what he was thinking at all, it was just a happiness to see a person like you on the track - and even if it was a little flare of romance, you were too young for him.

This grief stage wasn’t over, of course, even though he was in the last step: acceptance, although it still hurt deep in his heart and because of it, for a while he hadn’t made the best decisions for his life, however, that stayed only with him. Vettel didn’t open up about it with anyone for a while, friends would come and talk to him, but they only received nods and “I’m fine” type of responses, until the first anniversary of her death, during a Saturday post qualy, where he broke down during an interview and Mick took him back to his driver’s room, on that afternoon he blurted all his feelings out, all the shit he had done during this period, only for two people, Mick and Lewis. Nowadays, he still wasn’t 100% back on his feet again, however, he was trying his best and maybe, the new rookie had something to do with this new motivation.

…..................................................

Your first race was a success, as hard as it was, p3 came with a taste of victory. That night you chose not to go out and celebrate, you were too tired, because something they didn't tell you before was how the car would suck your energy - it was different to what you were used to in Formula 2.

The weeks and your next races were going well, lots of podiums and scoring zones, but still no wins. The situation of not having any wins yet was driving you crazy, no matter how flawless your performance was, the media was starting to get on your nerves with harsh criticism and you hated to admit it, but it annoyed you having to listen to this negativity while other drivers with cars with equal or better machinery than yours who are still winless were getting nothing but praise. The highlight of the week was on Saturday, after an accident during qualifying, you were in Q3 and ready to take your first pole position, but due to Norris braking hard during an 'S' corner in front of you, there was no time to slow down, your car hit the back of the number 4 McLaren, bringing both of them off track and subsequently causing your current times to be deleted and a red flag. You were angry with him and were ready to cuss him out, however after a rather lengthy conversation while your cars returned to the pits, he acknowledged his mistake and you worked it out; even though he admitted it in the post qualifying interviews, there were still allegations and questions about the possible crash being your fault, which made you so angry that he ended the interviews earlier than the others.

On Sunday, even if you started P9, you would do your best to win at Imola, it was a question of honour. You changed strategies with your team, talked to everyone and tried to be as assertive as possible, you knew that they had the ability to make this win happen. Nervousness was running inside you, it seemed that the world would end as soon as the lights turned off. The race was fine, already at the start you had already got p5, the tyre changes were in the time that you had stipulated with the team of what would be better and could hold the others until the end. In the last two laps you were less than a second behind first place, which at the moment was Max, and you wouldn't hesitate to pass him no matter what. Seconds before you crossed the win line, you accelerated the car harder than before, hearing the engine squelching, however it wasn't the moment to stop, not until you passed him; that's what happened, seeing the chequered flag in front of everyone else.

"P1, you are p1." Your response was just to shout back, he was very happy and didn't know what to say.

"P1 piccolina ! You did it." You heard your engineer say on the radio.

"And Charles?" Your voice was still euphoric, you wanted to know where your teammate was standing too.

“P3.”

The interviewers this time were kinder, with several people stopping you and congratulating you on the flawless race you had run. This time you deserved quite a party.

In these weeks you got closer to Vettel, he became a great friend and mentor. You admired him a lot, because he was always a great example and to be able to call him a friend was a privilege, so you didn't hesitate to go and bother him after the race, knocking on the door of his motor home - you knew that he hadn't gone back to the hotel yet, as he always warned you and offered you company on the way back.

"What's up?" his tone of voice was not the most welcoming, maybe he wanted to be alone, however the moment he opened the door and saw it was you, his expression lightened. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Um... So, I won the race..."

"I know... I gave you a hug right after." He cracked a smile, a little confused by the situation.

"Me and a few other drivers... Almost all of them actually, we're going out tonight, it's a nightclub.... I know it's not your style, but it's a celebration and I'd love for you to go." Your face was turning red, it was such a simple request, but you wanted to hide because of sudden shyness. "We reserved some tables near the smaller dance floor, because not everyone is a fan of dancing."

"Do I really need to?" He whined, grimacing and leaning against the stopper.

"Please... Make that sacrifice for me." You gave him the puppy dog look.

He looked at you for a few seconds, wondering whether or not it was really worth it to hang out with several young pilots in a nightclub. "Okay. For you, I'll go." He snapped, sighing loudly, and you gave the German a hug, squealing loudly.

"I'll give you the address! Wear something cool and that doesn't make you look like a middle-aged school teacher."

"Hey! That's an insult against my style."

It was almost 10 o'clock at night, you had just put on your high heels, finally ready; Charles was texting you five times a second, telling you to hurry or he would go alone and you would miss your ride.

When you arrived at the nightclub, you went quickly to the group where the other pilots were, greeting them and drinking your first shot of tequila to open the night properly. Half an hour later, from far away you saw curly blond hair entering the place and at the same moment you knew who it was: Sebastian; he arrived shyly, saying hello to everyone, getting close to you, who gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. You noticed that he took your advice about the outfit, this time wearing light brown jeans, a white tank top with a larger dark green short-sleeved button-up shirt and some black sneakers, but what took your breath away was his hair up in a loose bun with a few strands falling off. Maybe you checked him vigorously, but you could blame the alcohol.

"You're not sober." He commented, discreetly checking your look.

"And you won't be either," And then you handed him a bottle of beer - because you knew he liked it.

Sebastian felt guilty that he was checking your body every five minutes, a conscious voice in his head screamed that you were too young for him, too innocent - I mean, not so innocent, but that made him even more curious. His thoughts were dissipated when he saw you turning a shot of some coloured liquid, paying more attention on what you were going to do or react, his protective instinct was above the desire of wanting you; he didn't comment anything, just watched, disassociating a little bit of reality, having again that little voice that he didn't fit with the others there, that he was too old for this generation.

A few more shots and drinks in, your body already felt lighter. You were chatting with Gasly and Ricciardo, until they came up with the idea of everyone hitting the dance floor - even if most of them weren't the best dancers or didn’t like to, however, when all of them are at least tipsy, they don’t even think before abandoning the tables to go. Vettel hesitated to go with them, so you patted Daniel on the back and said you would be dancing in a few minutes.

“Hey… Don’t you wanna go with us?” You put your hand on his shoulder, looking at him.

“I don’t feel like dancing.” He didn’t look back at you, something was wrong.

“Is something bothering you? You can go if you’re not feeling good here.” Maybe it was the drunk you, but you placed your hand in his neck, making him look at you. “I’m not gonna be upset if you leave. We talked, drinked and it’s okay if you want to go.”

He was hesitating, he didn't know whether to leave or stay there, moments like that were hard; Sebastian was never someone so social, of course in his Red Bull years he partied a lot, but it was never his favourite thing to do. The German looked around and then deposited his eyes on you, still conflicted with all his thoughts running through his head. His biggest dilemma at the moment was about the Ferrari driver, whether he would stay for her, dance along and have fun, finally let go and be able to live a little, move on, on the other hand, this feeling of leaving the past behind was overwhelming. He stood for a few more seconds thinking, while you waited; "what could possibly go wrong?", "what am I being so afraid of?", "why couldn't I make out a little?" , then he sighed low, grabbed another bottle of beer and cracked a smile.

"Let's go to the dance floor." He held her hand. "I can't keep living like this."

"Like what?" Tu asked, not sure what exactly he was talking about.

"Grieving." You didn't know how to answer, for a moment you had forgotten he was a widower, so you just guided him into the huddle of people, squeezing his hand.

You started to dance, letting your body free, it was nice to be able to move to the beat without someone being able to judge you. Daniel came over with two shots of vodka for you, you drank them both quickly and giggled quietly, watching him do the same. This time, the drink hit a little harder, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more and more. As a result, your movements were dirtier, rolling your hips on your own while your friends were glued to unknown girls or dancing shamefully while drinking. Meanwhile Vettel was trying to dance with the younger drivers, but he felt out of place, he wasn't as young as them anymore, so after a while he started to walk past people to walk back to the table, but he caught your eye first.

"Stay dancing here with me." You held his arm, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure? Because… I can see what you want, but you seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun… So maybe I'm not the one to be dancing, call Mick or Charles.

“Stop with this no sense!” You blurted the words, laughing. “Just follow the rhythm, look."

Chloe's song 'Have mercy' started playing and you cracked a smile, starting to move your body slowly, maybe you weren't noticing, but it was in a sexy way that turned Sebastian red, looking sideways until you put your arms around his neck, catching his attention.

"Keep moving with me." He placed his hands on your waist, slowly getting more into the rhythm.

You both forgot about the world around you, dancing just for each other, with your bodies glued together and embarrassed smiles as you tried to keep in rhythm until the song ended. He pulled away a little, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “Montero” by Lil Nas X started playing and you cracked a big smile, turning your back to him and letting the older pilot's hands on your waist, rolling your hips against him. It took a few instants before he understood and got into the rhythm, loosening up and starting to have fun with you.

“Does your mother know you dance to older men like that?” He whispered, travelling his hands around your body.

What had happened after, was that you had spent it together, drinking even more and dancing more overtly, which the others noticed-especially Daniel and Charles, who were closer to you, but they would let the matter die. The point of leaving was when the blonde was really wanting to kiss you, but the last shred of notion he had showed.

"Let's go to the hotel." He muttered, with his accent stronger than usual.

You didn't even say goodbye to anyone, you just hailed a taxi and went to his hotel, arriving there and making sure no one saw you together. When you entered the room, he quickly locked the door and came close to you, passing his hands around your waist.

"I hope I didn't get the wrong signals." He then brought your face closer against his, initiating a sloppy kiss that you reciprocated at the same moment, slipping your arms around his shoulders and your hands stopping at his neck, caressing the spot. His tongue was already going against yours in a desperate rhythm, like he waited all night to be with you; when you broke it off to breathe, you looked at him, worried.

“Is it okay? To be kissing… I know you…” You started, but he put his finger on your lips.

“It’s okay… Let’s focus on us.”

So you kissed him again, this time with more urgency than before, allowing yourself to run your hands down his back, gripping the fabric of his button-down shirt. He broke the kiss this time, looking into your face for a few seconds, admiring you, before he started trailing kisses from the back of your ear to the collar of your dress, sucking and licking a few specific spots, which made you whimper with pleasure.

"Can I continue?" He asked as he touched the zip of your dress.

"You don't have to be so gentle, Seb."

"But you deserve it."

"And I say... You can be rough with me, I know you like it." You cracked a smile, disentangling yourself from him and sitting on the bed.

He looked at her for a few seconds, biting his lower lip before he started to move closer, standing between your legs.

“Oh… Since you like to be dominated…” His face got closer to yours where you could smell his breath, but didn’t kiss you. “Strip for me. Now.” He backed off, crossing his arms.

So this was a game and you would follow his rules, with a little bit of a twist. Slowly, you started taking away your high heels, then your panties that you put in his trouser pocket, with only a part of the red lace sticking out and finally you took your red lace bra off, putting it on the ground. Now, you were only wearing your tight black dress with your legs a little bit open while you waited for his response.

“The dress.”

“I want to keep it on.”

“I don’t remember you being in charge.” He whispered, holding your face with one hand. However, when he saw you like that, his body liked it for sure. “You can keep it on, but don’t disobey me again, okay baby?” You nodded.

He started to kiss your neck again, being rougher than before, biting and leaving marks you would regret in the next morning. Meanwhile, his hands were travelling around your body until they stayed at your breasts, pulling down the fabric just for them to pop out; Vettel looked a few seconds at your boobs, before starting to suck one and pinching the other nipple harshly. You moaned his name repeatedly, feeling your core dripping wet from the attention he gave to both of your breasts. Suddenly he stopped, earning a whine from you.

“Wait up, baby…” He backed off, getting on his knees on the floor - you never thought a man could look this hot on their knees.

He opened your legs, starting to kiss every single inch of your thighs in a provocative way and you just whined in the process, because you wanted him tasting you. “What?” He stopped, looking at you, the vision of a messy haired Vettel between your legs made you moan and throw your head back. “I need you to use your words.” As much as you wanted to say, nothing would come out, it was overwhelmingly good to just have that moment. “Lieb, use your words, I’m not going to say again.”

“I want you to taste me.” He looked at you, cracking up a smile.

Then he lowered his head again, leaving a few more kisses, especially on top of your core. The German’s tongue started to move around your clit, moving it in a tortuous pacing so you could feel every move of his; at the beginning you were already chanting his name, putting a hand on top of his head, holding his golden curls around your fingers. Unexpectedly he put two fingers inside you, moving in a quicker rhythm and curling the tips just a little bit, hitting that sweet spot of yours. What made you orgasm for the first time was that besides his fingers working it up inside you, he started to suck gently your clit - you were moaning incoherent words when you hit your climax. Looking at him when he lifted his face towards you with a smile, licking his lips made you let out a wimp, quickly pulling him up and you getting on your knees.

You kept looking at him while you undid his belt and pulled his trousers to the floor, however, his hard-looking dick with leaking pre-cum inside his boxers called more your attention. Slowly, you reached the bar of his underwear, pulling it down and seeing it; you looked up at him before he nodded so you could do what you wanted for a while. You let your tongue pass through his tip, focusing a bit on there, hearing him hold back moan. In one go, you had put his dick in your mouth, feeling it hit your throat, starting it to quickly bob up and down, finally hearing him groaning in pleasure. His hand reached your hair, guiding your head to go slower than you were. “I won’t last long… You’re too good for me.”

You pulled back, looking at him. “Then I want you to finish inside me.”

He smiled at your cockiness, taking the rest of his outfit and laying you on the bed, while he grabbed the condom and the lube.

“Do we have to use it?” You whined.

“Maybe next time we don’t.” He whispered, covering two fingers in lube and pushing them inside you. Him inside you like that made you whimper, looking at him.

“Please, just fuck me.”

“Patience, honey… I don’t want you to feel pain.”

He quickly slid on the condom and spread your legs to his sides, now getting even closer and placing his hands on your sides.

“Ready?”

You nodded, then he adjusted his dick in your entrance, moving in slowly until all of him was inside of you. Sebastian left little kisses up your neck when he saw you closing your eyes, trying to get used to the feeling, only starting to move when you gave him the signal to.

Your walls were clenching around him as he started to pick up his pace, going faster every thrust - this was near pornographic, you were both moaning each others name, fixing your gaze on each other. You could feel every single inch of him inside you going and your climax getting closer, letting your moans even louder - if that was possible. Then Vettel lowered one of his hands, starting to do circles around your clit with two fingers, which made you come for the second time of the night. The blonde wasn’t that far from reaching his either, his thrusts were more erratic and soon he groaned your name close to your ear, laying on top of you.

“That was… Wow.” You whispered, running your fingers along his back.

“Yeah, wow.” He kissed your cheek, slowly disconnecting both of your bodies, which made both of you groan with the sensation. He took off the condom, throwing away  “Let’s take a shower before we go to sleep.”

“How clever, staying the night.” You got up, wrapping your arms around him.

After you took a warm shower together - that could have been shorter if you didn’t kept kissing and caressing each other, you two laid on his bed. You were wearing one of his old Ferrari t-shirts and he was only in his boxers, drinking wine - that he already had, from the bottle.

“I always had a crush on you…” You whispered, trailing his abdomen with your fingers. “Teenage me would be very happy, especially that she used to shamefully read smut about you on the internet.”

“Oh, wow… So I have always been your target?” He joked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

“Don’t say it like that! It’s just… You’re too hot to not check out.”

“So I’m winning from younger drivers, with more energy to keep you up all night?” He was still being playful, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

“Well… You just fucked me and looks like would go for a second round.” You lowered your hand to his boxers. “Besides, I like more mature men, who know how to make me feel good.”

He was at a loss of words, your words had left him red in the face and his classic smile. He placed the wine on the bedside table and pulled your body up, starting to kiss you again.

That night, you still did it two more times, enjoying every second together.

Maybe it was wrong and you would regret in the morning everything you had done together, especially for your reputations within the sport, but that moment was about enjoying what life had to offer you.