#However they still kinda count and i like to have fun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

Bulletproof

Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by anon:

could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."

Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.

“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her.

Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.

“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”

Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”

You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.

“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”

Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.

Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”

Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.

“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”

Like you, he doesn’t need to say.

You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.

Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”

The room goes quiet.

A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue.

You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes.

Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.

The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation.

In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.

At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.

Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.

Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.

Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you.

You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.

Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.

You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents.

As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold.

You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.

But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.

Perhaps it would be easier to leave.

It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:

Your healing ability.

On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.

Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.

As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.

Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.

But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.

“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act.

Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.

You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger.

You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.

The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.

You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”

“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”

Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.

Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.

Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”

“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”

Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.

That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.

The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.

You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name.

And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.

It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.

“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.

Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”

The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.

“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”

Was that a compliment?

You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.

Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.

The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.

Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”

You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”

Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”

Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.

Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”

You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.

“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”

“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.

“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters.

Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening.

Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?

Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.

Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”

You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.

Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.

“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”

“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.

“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”

The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.

“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.

You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.

The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.

In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.

You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.

You've become more than just teammates.

You've become friends.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #fic request

3K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 | choso kamo

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Finding out your boyfriend's a vampire was far from the chill evening you planned with him. But you can't lie, imagining those fangs sinking down on and sucking on your skin....it's kinda hot.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: vampire bf! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern! au - oral (m! receiving) - handjob - fingering (f! receiving) - nipple play (licking, sucking, tweezing, fangs grazing) - piercings (nape and frenum) - biting (wrist, shoulder, breast, implied more afterwards) - Choso got a long schlong, rip - missionary position - overstimulation - clitoral play (swiping) - cervix fucking - the first time you and Choso have sex + you two being nervy/cute - pet names (angel, baby, princess) - Choso takes blood supplements + drinks pigs blood - Yuuji is his half-brother - mention of blood (duh) and saliva/spit - proofread but will check for more l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k (bro, wtf???)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: y'all watched that new ep, right? right. anywaysss, in celebration of choso [and yuuji]'s big fight being animated, i was thinking of vampy bf! choso for a few days and how cute/hot that would be! soooooo, enjoy~~ ☆ and tysm for 2.6k!!

“Sooo, you two gonna like fuck tonight?”

“Whatever happened to ‘How’s your day,’ ‘You doing okay,’ or ‘You still haven’t offed yourself after midterms,’ Nobara?”

“Yeah, my day is going fine, but answer the question.”

“I swear to Christ…” you sigh heavily as you walk down the sidewalk.

The month of October brings more dread to your being than anything else. As much as you want to be festive, order a pumpkin latte, and chill watching the leaves fall gracefully with the autumn times, college life does whatever it takes to prevent that. And what better way to do that than have you suffer with midterm exams.

You and your roommate, Nobara, have experienced the worst, especially this week. Having to study and pull all-nighters so much that you two can count with four fingers at max how many hours of sleep you get daily. Whatever gets the work done. However, it shouldn’t cost you your necessary slumber. Even your other best friends, Yuuji and Megumi, are victims of the tests. Hell, Yuuji found out he had an exam the day BEFORE and had to come in clutch by spending the entire day finishing the two-page study guide!

All four of you are depleted of fun; it’s non-existent as you try to navigate out of this academic hell…Despite that, though, there’s one thing you’re always looking forward to during the week: the weekend! Oh, yes, today is finally Friday. You’ve been anticipating this day throughout the week, finally done with your exams and ready to relax with your friends after so much schoolwork. But that’s not the only thing you’re looking forward to…

Because this weekend, you’ll finally be with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of midterms. Choso Kamo, Yuuji’s older half-brother and the man of your life, is the only person you’d love to see sweep you off your feet and take you in his loving arms, away from all the stress and discomfort from your college life. The two of you have been dating for almost a year, and he’s, without a doubt, the sweetest guy you ever got lucky with.

Since the start of this semester, it’s been hard for you two to meet at one place, let alone get on the phone. With you on campus and he outside with his job as a piercer, there have been times when you thought you’d never see him until winter break. Yet, it is now fall break, and Yuuji invited you and the gang to have a relaxing weekend at Choso’s place (with his permission). You accepted the invitation with a gleeful heart, practically bouncing and giggling at the thought of being in the same place as your partner again. And that’s where you’re heading now, walking down the sidewalk to his townhouse with a duffle bag full of your stuff, and you on the phone with Nobara to keep you company.

“All I’m saying is,” the brunette starts on the other side of the line. “If there’s ever a good time for you two to get it on, it would be this weekend.”

“I’m sorry, since when has my sex life been on your mind instead of studying for the exam you have in ten minutes?” You hear your roommate suck her teeth, and you grin with satisfaction. “Besides, he and I are waiting for the perfect time to do it, no rush. And seeing as you, Megumi, and Yuuji will be in the same place as us, I highly doubt we’d ever think of having sex.”

“Hmm, fair point —KNOCK KNOCK— WHO IS IT!!?” You almost remove the device from your ear from Nobara’s abrupt yelling. “Sorry, Y/n. Megumi is here and says we gotta head to the classroom right now.”

“That’s fine. I’m already at Choso’s place, anyway. See you guys later, and good luck with the exam.”

“‘Kay, see ya later.” She bids you farewell. “Also, if you two ever do it this weekend and you don’t tell me, as your best-est friend, I have legal rights to make sure all your cute underwear gets thrown out next time I take out the trash.”

“Good-fucking-bye, Nobara.” You scoff, your thumb already pressing the end call button and stuffing the phone in the pocket of your leggings.

In just the nick of time, you make it to Choso’s townhome and climb up the stairs to knock on the door. Within seconds, Yuuji opens the door and greets you with a hug.

“Y/n!” He’s always so eager and chipper when he sees you. “I was just about to text you; gotta run to the grocery store, then head to the pizza shop to place the order.”

You enter the foyer to remove your shoes while the salmon-haired other rushes to put his on. “Oh, how come?”

“The phones and websites seem to be down, so I gotta head there in person to place the order. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back before Megumi and Nobara.” He stands to open the door again before grabbing his car keys from the rack. “Choso’s up in his room right now, so you can say hi and chill with him while I’m gone.”

“All right,” You watch Yuuji run down to the sidewalk before he stops to shout something in your direction.

“Don’t do anything too crazy, ya lovebirds!” He sends you a cheeky grin, and you give him a playful glare with puffed cheeks.

“I won’t; go get the pizza!” He laughs at your response as he jogs down the street to his car, and you close the door when you see him drive off.

Alone with Choso…The thought of being alone with your boyfriend for a few hours has the butterflies in your stomach become active, fighting the urge to smile with warm cheeks. It’s been a hellish month thus far. Finally, after all this time, being in your boyfriend’s arms is enough to wash off all the stress you’ve pent up for the past couple of weeks.

With glee in your steps, you tip-toe up the stairs with wholesome thoughts of you and your boyfriend. I wonder if he’s been eating right these days. Same with getting sleep, he has a bad habit of sleeping at ungodly hours…Oh my God, wait, are we going to sleep together? If so, it'll be the first time we share a bed together. Does that mean—

You mentally slap yourself out of your delusion when you stop at his bedroom door. Oh, snap out of it, Y/n! That’s just Nobara getting into your head. Plus, it’s not like you two will be by yourselves for the entire night — the other three will be here. Hell, his own younger brother will be across the exact hallway! Don’t think such horny shit, for God’s sake…

You shake your head to abolish the impure thoughts, raising your fist to knock on your boyfriend’s door. “Chocho?" You greet with a nickname. "It’s me, Y/n. I just got here and—“

CRASH!!

The sound makes you jump, halting you from finishing that sentence. Rushed footsteps and another noise that something was bumped into follow along. “Ch-Choso? Everything all right?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” you can tell even from outside the room his voice had an unsure tone; he was, in fact, not good. “Just wait, I gotta—Ow!!”

You know you shouldn’t have done what you’re about to do as it goes against basic etiquette; however, when you hear sudden cries of pain from your boyfriend, how in the world would you stay still!? With a chewed lip, you grab the door handle and bust it open to enter his room.

You know you shouldn’t have done that. Because what you see before you is way beyond your comprehension.

The carpeted floor had items all over the place. There are packets filled with what appear to be red liquids and tiny red pills contrasted with the white carpet. They must’ve been knocked over and made that noise. Suddenly, you notice a stain on the white mat in a bright red color. That was the thing that alerted your nerves, immediately searching for the figure standing behind the bed. It was your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.

But was it him? Because what on earth were you looking at!?? He still had the same face, light brown hair that was usually tied up now fell to his neck, his black “tattoo” on his face now red and leaking down to his chin. And his mouth was agape, your eyes noting that his canines were extended out more than usual with red fluid at the ends. Not to mention that the man was now shirtless! His bare chest and abdomen out for you, covered with smeared….Is…Is that blood?

Choso slowly moves his hands up in defense. “Y/n…Just stay calm for me, okay?”

The entire scene was too much for your brain to grasp, your breathing increasing to an unstable pattern, and your eyes looking at every jarring detail doesn’t help ease the thoughts going way too fast for you. The worried expression of your boyfriend has your body at a standstill, and your limbs quiver as if you’re about to give way. So, what are you left to do?

You faint.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

He stares at you, and you stare at him.

He averts his gaze shyly away from you, and you keep yours fixated on his.

Brown orbs teeter meekly to your figure sitting on his bed before reverting back to the other side, and yours refuse to leave his face, practically sinking holes into his forehead.

This has been going on for five minutes ever since your consciousness returned, and Choso cleaned up the mess in his room and himself — now, he wears a black tank top after cleaning the red stains off his body. After giving you an explanation as to what happened, you haven’t said a single word to him. You only stare at him while pondering questions of your own. And you can tell the lack of communication makes the poor man uncomfortable in the confines of his bedroom. So, for his sake (and your headache-inducing curiosity), you eventually uttered something.

“So,” you say the first word with a long pause, treading carefully on which questions to ask. “Those pills…are filled with blood?”

“Yes…” He admits with his gaze still not away from you.

“And you take them every day?”

“Twice a day…”

Okay…Next question, “And those small packets,” you point to the dresser where a pile of said red packets stack upon one another. “Also blood?” He nods slowly. “Human blood?”

He finally brings his eyesight to you but with a hurried shake to the head. “No, no! It’s pig’s blood.”

Is that worse or better?? Never mind— You then point to your set of canines. “And your teeth, I’ve never seen them that long...”

“They only get like that when I don’t drink blood for a while. So, when you knocked on my door, I was just about to open a packet. But then I heard your name and kinda panicked…”

“Oh my God…” Everything comes together and hits you all at once. From his pale skin contrasting yours, the unusual tattoo across his face now revealed as a blood mark, or all those times you caught him drinking his super red "beet juice." It all comes down to the only acceptable truth that feels foreign to leave your lips. “…..My boyfriend is a vampire.”

Choso cringes internally at the words you uttered. The truth has finally come, and he didn’t even mean for it to happen, at least not like this. Who in their right mind would want to reveal to their partner that they’re a blood-sucking monster? It’s the most dreadful talk of his life that Choso has done all his years avoiding. And now you, his sweet, perfect thing, have discovered his abnormal existence.

“That’s…” He cringes harder when you say more words. “So...” Anxiety pools his stomach, mind filled with uneasy guesses on what you’d think of him now. He could only assume the worst; it’s only natural. “...Cool!!”

Wait, what? That’s not what he expected. Way off, actually.

He feels the dent of the bed when you move closer to him, your face merely inches away from his as you examine every single feature of him. It takes the vampiric man aback, holding his breath while watching your face stare at him intensely with your beautiful eyes, beaming with excitement and wonder. And his vision slowly drifts to your lips, watching them move as you ask questions. And he keeps staring until, “—so…Choso!!” He snaps his orbs back to yours, his cheeks blossoming pink. “I’m asking you a question. So, since you’re a vampire, how come you’re not melting or sparkling when the sun touches you? Is that why you wear black all the time?”

“You mean that stuff from the books and movies?” He questions your logic, but it’s not your fault; he’s sure many others would’ve asked the same. “I don’t know about melting, but my skin gets dry if I stay out too long.”

You hum along to his answer, nodding as if you were in a lecture. “How come Yuuji isn’t a vampire, or at least half? Wait, does he know!?”

“No! No, he doesn’t. I became a vampire because my father was a vampire and turned me and my mother into one. I think I was around the age of twenty. After she died and my dad found Itadori’s mom, he didn’t change her into one. So, with that luck, I guess he isn’t fully a vampire. But I wouldn’t blow past it if he has some characteristics…”

“I see.” Again, you nod along. That might explain some things, like why he’s so fricken fast when he plays sports and that crazy-like strength he has… “So, how long have you been like this?”

“Almost a hundred and thirty.”

Woah. “And when have—I’m sorry, how long have you tasted human blood?”

Choso ponders on that question for a few seconds before answering. “I started when I became one. I try not to have it as I did back then; the last time I had it was around two years ago. But even then, I switched more into donated or pig’s blood for the past four decades.”

“Do you ever have cravings for human blood?” Was that too much to ask? It possibly was because Choso makes a face that conveys slight objection. Yet your mind genuinely wanted to know.

“I do, but I try not to act on them. Especially now that I have a human brother, and you…I guess it doesn’t feel right that I do so, ya know.”

His response replays in your mind, not because you were confused but because you understood where he was coming from. You’re sure it wasn’t easy for him to go around and sink his fangs into human flesh back then; modern times should make the task a lot easier with so many people on this earth. Although, you can imagine how hard it must have been for Choso to ignore an urge like that, specifically when it caters to his whole being. Alternatives such as pills and blood packets can only do so much.

“..…Have you ever thought of biting me?”

The question came out on its own as your curiosity got the best of you. Yet you don’t regret asking because it’s not impossible to think of ever happening.

Choso’s brown eyes look into yours sincerely, releasing a heavy sigh as if the truth was weighing him down. “…Yes.”

Your expression doesn’t change, remaining neutral. There’s no point in asking why because you can practically answer that yourself: he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s very considerate, so no wonder he’d put your health and well-being above all else. So, why not do the same for him? “…Would you like to taste mine?”

His eyes widen at your proposal, surveying your face to see any twinges or crack soft a smile that entails a joke. There were none, your expression exhibiting nothing but honesty. “A-Are you sure??”

You nod with a smile. “Yup. I mean, it’s not every day someone gets to have a vampire taste their blood — let alone see a vampire, period. Besides,” you stretch out your arm, your wrist stationed in front of Choso. “If it were any other random vampire, I’d probably throw garlic their way.”

The man scoffs at your comment. “Something also you see in books and movies, Y/n.”

“Whatever,” the two of you laugh at your silliness. “But I’m serious, Chocho. I’m fine as long you’re the one doing it. So, go on.”

A moment of hesitation keeps him in his thoughts, the mental cogs of his brain deciphering what course of action he should take. But he does take your wrist with a large hand, bringing it towards his mouth. And before you know it, the vampiric man unsheathes his fangs out for display and sinks them into your flesh, tearing the skin as they pierce through.

The sharp pain was expected, but you still forced your eyes shut and took in a big inhale. Choso watches your reaction as his fangs take in a sample of your blood for him to taste. The familiar texture of the body fluid courses through him, and drips of it slide down to his tongue. You exhale through your mouth, pursed lips blowing out cool air. It felt as though two needles were simultaneously stabbing your wrist, your hand forming into a fist to situate yourself through the hurtful sensation.

And Choso just keeps watching you as he drinks your red fluid, taking in your graceful reaction. He knows it hurts, but you don’t say anything, pushing through it for the sake of him. He examines your steady breathing, eyes sewn shut, and plump limps agape for inhalation. You looked so good like this — tasted good as well, very sweet with a floral scent; it must have been your signature perfume. It intoxicates him, thinking of your body and fragrance on him and your sweet taste on his tastebuds. It ignites something inside him. Something that he hadn’t experienced in a long time…

“Choso?” You call out to him as his blinks signal that he heard you. “You done there? Don’t want you sucking my arm dry.” You jest to him.

He takes the hint and removes his teeth from your wrist, licking the two pierced holes of excess blood that seeps out. “My bad.”

You tease him some more. “Do I taste that good to you?” You didn’t expect him to give you a curt nod, a silent compliment from your boyfriend. “O–Oh…That’s good to know…” You say timidly, gaze averting downwards. Then, you notice something in the crotch of his pants. You gasp: a pinched tent. Choso follows your sight, finding out about his predicament to his horror. He opens his mouth to explain himself, but you beat him. “Can I take care of it?”

Again, Choso tries to say something, but no words dare to come out as you crawl up towards him. His brain short circuits at your movement, his back hitting the headboard of his bed. His blush creeps around to his ears, contrasting his pale skin and chocolate-colored hair. You smile at him; he’s so adorable and shy about this. “Mind I take the lead for a minute?” You ask for permission, even though the answer is quite clear when he peers at your lips. He nods, your face drawing inward and your soft lips landing on his.

One kiss. Two kisses and a moan. Three kisses pass, and it’s at this point that you two can’t get off each other. As his hand snakes to the back of your head to deepen the kiss, he takes your mewls with his lips, the insertion of his tongue making your toes curl.

Taking the lead as promised, you bring a hand down to the zipper of his ripped jeans, bringing the zipper and the clothing down to throw on the floor. Your fingers curl around the band of his black boxer briefs, pulling them down to reveal his lo— WHAT THE FUCK!!??

His erection springs out from his underwear, and what you’re met with is a fucking behemoth. For one, the thing was way longer than you anticipated — most definitely the longest you’ve had within reach. And because of its length, it looked so pretty to look at. The way his precum trickles down his glans to the underside is so magnificent to your eyes that you’re practically stuck looking at it. And…Is that a piercing right at his frenulum? Oh, wow. Vampire dick, huh.

“Heh, you like what you see, princess?” Suddenly, you feel so small from being called out with that little tease from your boyfriend. You give him a condescending expression, making him chuckle to himself. And who told him to call you that cute nickname!?… Keep going.

Back to the matter, you ogle at his dick again and mentally prep yourself by slowly moving your hand toward it. Your fingers curl around the base and unhurriedly stroke him to figure out a good pace to start. A moan from Choso entails that you know what you’re doing, so you dial up the speed and go further up, stopping your strokes from his piercing down to the base.

He becomes more vocal as your friction becomes more confident, spitting on your hand and tightening your grip to make it easier for his rough skin to slide across your palm. Sticking with a firm and consistent rhythm, you watch your hand go to work on his shaft, watching more of his precum leak and slide down to your fingers. It was so lewd yet so arousing; you feel the throbbing heat between your legs begins to form, swaying your ass to ease the pleasurable sensation while instructing a pornographic act.

“Ahhh, ahhnn, oh shit…” He stammers to give you a proper response, your hand feeling too good. “Oh fuck, your hand feels so good, angel, so goo—Nhhhh!!”

“Really?” You can’t deny the pride you feel for yourself, so you move down to situate between his legs. “That’s all that matters, then.” You bring your free hand to massage his testicles and cover more surface, and more of Choso’s whines and croaks fill the space, his hips bucking to ensure more friction and pleasure on his end.

With the rate this is going, more of his essence leaks out from his urethra, and the raunchy image playing right in front of you has your lips quiver. An intrusive thought roams around your brain while looking at his pink glans. You chew on your lips as you decide on what to do. And when you finally do, it’s now or never.

With a gulp, you bring the tip of his cock to your lips, and the man sharply gasps at the wet sensation of your tongue on his glans. The precum leaves a salty aftertaste on your tastebuds, proving that this is happening: you’re giving your vampiric boyfriend a blowjob right now. Deciding to take things to the next level, you intake more of his inches as much as you can. Not the whole thing because you know you’d probably choke, so you take your time inhaling his length at a comfortable pace and manner. And once you bob your head, the hisses and groans from Choso should give you an idea that he’s feeling elated.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Y/n, your mouth feels so good—Oh shit…” He brings a hand down to the top of your head, a sign you can guess that he wants you to keep going. And so you do, speeding up your motions. Your mouth sucks and teases the underside of his dick, your tongue curves and licks around the piercing of his frenulum, and he jerks when you slowly teasingly lick from the base to the tip. You bring your hand to the rest of the inches you couldn’t cover, your pretty fingers sliding up and down his dick while your free hand comes to his balls for you to massage. The sudden contact of your hands wasn’t expected, his body jolting to the sensations of your tongue and fingers around him, kneading his scrotum as you playfully lick on his cockhead. “—Khhh, ohhhh, fuck…Y/n, baby, I’m—Ahahhh!!”

From the sound of it, he was bound to release his load. So you prepare and bring the tip back into your warm mouth, urging the man to climax. With a few more pumps from your hands coinciding with the laps and sucks of your plump lips, he ruts his groin to your face as his essence spreads inside your oral cavity. And you take it like a champ, sucking every pump to your throat, not letting the tip go until he finished. So, once his body calms down, you release him, wiping off the trail of saliva from your mouth.

Yet it doesn’t stop there; of course, it doesn’t. Because Choso’s cock is very much still sprung and active from your blowjob, meaning it’s inevitable that you’re going to move on to the next phase. And judging by the sheer length of this thing, you have no idea how that shit is gonna fit inside of you. Damn, vampire dick sure is something…

“Y/n?” You snap back from your thoughts when Choso calls out to you, noticing you gawking at his size. “You don’t have to do the rest if you don’t want, baby. I can take care of it.”He’s so sweet looking out for you as he’s aware that you’re a little worried.

But you surprise him when you exit off the bed for a quick second, removing your leggings and underwear for the carpet to keep for you. The same thing goes for your matching bra. And as you crawl back to bed, his wide eyes never leave your lower figure, watching you lie on your back with your head on a pillow and your legs spread wide. “As long as you take the lead, I’ll be fine, Chocho.”

It’s his turn to gulp and ease his dry throat before getting on his knees and positioning himself between your legs, dark brown orbs intaking every detail of your cunt that’s exposed for him. You chew on your lip, “It’s embarrassing if you stare so hard at it, ya know…”

“S-Sorry,” He apologizes while getting back to the task. He grabs ahold of his length and aligns the tip to your wet entrance, and your breath hitches at the contact. “I’ll go real slow, okay?”You give a couple of honest nods for confirmation, and he watches your breathing. When he notes your inhales and exhales, he pushes into your folds. With every inhale you take, he nudges further into you. The pain gets bitter and bitter by the second, and your hands grip the sheets beneath you. “Relax for me, angel, relax.” He comes down to whisper those words to ear; swear to God, you could’ve moaned right there and then. However, you switch your focus to following his advice, reminding your body to stop resisting the unfamiliar limb making entry. The pain is still present, but you count your breaths to distract your mind until the tip finally makes it in, a sharp gasp sneaking past you and a hiss from Choso when you involuntarily grasp around him while he pushes more of him inside.

However, he doesn’t move right away, giving you as much time as you need to catch a steady pattern to breathe along with. Your head already feels too hot, and your chest feels too tight to breathe. You peer down to find that he is only halfway in, and there’s no amount of words to describe the disbelief you’re experiencing at this moment. “I feel…so full already…” You nearly choke on your words. You can practically feel his piercing scrape your insides.

“I know, princess,” he comforted you with a kiss on the forehead while lifting your shirt, your chest meeting his cold, slender fingers that massaged your mounds. All the while, he pushes his cock further into your chasm, and your breathing goes shaky as you try and take every inch of him. Then all of a sudden, your body jolts upward when you feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix; you can only guess now that everything’s entirely inside you. Oh yeah, vampire dick is most definitely something else. Tears start to water your eyes, and your hands come around Chos’s neck, the coldness of his nape piercing greeting your skin. “—Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ…I’m gonna go start moving now, Y/n.”

You appreciate the warning because, with the way his hips start to create a motion to and fro from your entrance, it’s surreal that his shaft is churning your inner wall with minimal effort. Shivers crawl up your spine every time the base meets your southern lips, grazes to your most tender spots result in you chewing on your bottom lip, and God, the occasional jab to your cervix is something you’ll have to get used to. He sucks on one nipple while the other hand tends to the other, the laps of his tongue on the bud of your breast feel so good, and you gasp when his fangs lightly graze it. So exhilaratingly dangerous.

“Choso—Ohhhh…” you coo, your head thrown back when he tweezes your nipple simultaneously with the jab to your cervix. The pace of his thrusts increases a tad, and your voice becomes more vocal than before, filling his bedroom with your breathy whimpers. “So big, you’re so big for me—Ohooo!”

“—Mmfhh!! Fuck, you feel so good for me, princess…Shiiiit—” The way your cunt wraps around him so tightly causes him to rut into you harder and faster, evoking spine-chilling whines from your puffy, bitten lips. Your disheveled figure squirms on the sheets, holding onto Choso for dear life as he churns your tummy insides. Your fragrance attacks his nose when he kisses your neck, nibbling the skin to listen to your cute gasps more. Then, the urge rises. He opens his mouth for his fangs to scrape your neck.

“Ahahhnn!! Ch–Chosooo!!”

Your voice halts his unconscious, realizing what he was about to do and quickly withdrawing his teeth from your neck. No, not now… He thinks to himself, moving his fangs to your shoulder instead. The bite elicits a sharp shriek from your unbeknownst self. Your nails dig into his shoulders, the pain motivating him to explore more of your body with your mouth.

You can feel his kisses trail down your collarbone and breast, sucking on your nipples once more before leaving a tiny bite. You clamp around his girth as a response, which jabs into your cervix repeatedly with precision. More kisses and licks later, and he leaves a bite mark by your collarbone, sucking on the spot to taste more of your sweet blood. Your mind goes dizzy with the constant of his lips and teeth, and the commotion down south has you wrap your legs around him, caging him in as your climax is soon to come.

“—Nnaahh! Ahaahhnn!! Oh, God, Ohmyfuckin’Go—Hhmmff!!” Choso leads a hand down to your clitoris, and you see stars in no time. “Chosooo!! Yer handsss, you’re gonna make me cummm!! Ooooh, shhahhh!!”

Choso listens to your pleas with attentive ears, his fingers swiping rampantly on your clit. Your choked sobs are so beautiful to hear. The way your walls grasp around his length entails you’re about to come on him any second now. “Go on, my angel. Ring me out—Hnnghh!! So fuckin’ tight…”

Erratic ruts to your sloppy cunt cause wet noises to fill your eardrums, and the heat in your face is unbearable while your head pounds harshly. With the swipes on your clit and him grinding his cock to your tender spot, it’s apparent that you two come concurrently. He fills your cunt with his anticipated load while your velvety walls contract around him euphorically, and exchanged pants fill the space between your sweaty bodies.

The two of you experience shocks of your own as your heaving bodies rest on each other, Choso nuzzling his face to your neck as his hand softly massages your breast. Your body calms down, gradually exiting your blissful haze. But it tenses again when you feel another sharp pain in your shoulder, and you snicker while pulling his ear to tease.

“Let you have a taste, now you’re already hooked, huh…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Choso uses a washcloth to dab on the bite marks around your body, gently pressing down on it and wiping off any blood that leaves your newly added markings. The warm cloth feels good on your cold skin — as if the stinging sensation subsides in seconds.

“You know,” You hum along as he takes care of your body. “I didn’t think you’d be that much of a biter.”

“Sorry,” he moves to your front, dabbing the teeth marks on your breasts and shoulders. You can see the hint of pink that flushes his cheeks and ears. “Got a little carried away…”

You giggle. “No need to apologize, Chocho.” The nickname has him blush harder. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “Just goes to show that you were enjoying the moment.”

His hands suddenly stop moving, the washcloth now around your wrist. “…Did you?” Caramel eyes dare to peek at yours. “Did you enjoy it?”

You could tell that the question carried a deep-rooted meaning. Not only was this the first time you and Choso had sex, but it was also within the same day you found out he was a vampire. If you were in his shoes, you could guess he’d probably think you didn’t like the experience or found it heavily discomforting. Yet that wasn’t the case at all. So, you have to communicate that to him.

With a warm smile, you let him know, “Yes, I did. I had a great time.” Before you can say more, a random thought prompts you to ask a question. “Hey, I felt you were about to bite my neck, but you didn’t.”

“Hmm? Oh, umm, yeah, I did. The only way for someone to become a vampire is by biting the neck,” He confirms, his gaze drifting down to your wrist as he uses the wet cloth to dab on the mark. “But I don’t want you becoming one now. At least, not without you telling me.”

“Wait, you don't want me to be a vampire?”

“I mean, that’s up to you, honestly. As much as I love you and would love the idea of spending my life with you, that’s only my selfish wish at the end of the day. The choice should be yours to make, not mine.”

You remove your hand from his hold and place it on his cold cheek. The other hand comes up to cup the other, provoking your boyfriend to look directly at you.

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” You have never seen his face change into a flash of pink so quickly; it makes you giggle at him. “Chocho, I appreciate you telling me the truth about yourself. I’m sure it’s been hard on you to carry this burden of pretending to be something you’re not, especially with me. So, again, thank you…However, I can’t really see myself as a vampire, at least right now. My life seems to be at a good place right now, and I want to experience it first-hand, ya know. With you by my side.”

You know Choso is listening to you word-for-word; his brown eyes never leaving your face is evidence of such. So you continue: “So, until then, let me be human for a while longer. When the time is right, I’ll let you know. Sounds good?”

The brown-haired man gives you a smile before answering, resulting in yours broadening. “I’m cool with that.”

You nod. “Cool.”

“…”

“…You want more of my blood, huh.”

“…..I’m sorry,” you laugh at his awkwardness. “You just smell so good. And you taste sweet…”

“In that case,” you withdraw your hands from his cheek and extend an arm out for him. “Have one last taste.”

There’s hesitance when his hand grabs ahold of your wrist. But when he knows you’re complying and on board with this, Choso brings your wrist to his lips, his fangs pierce down on your skin, and he sucks your blood. The pain this time around wasn’t too excruciating. Maybe with all the bites you have on your body right now, you came around and got used to it.

And who knows? Perhaps you’ll grow to love the sensation soon enough.

“Yo! I’m back!” The two of you freeze. A familiar voice from the other side of the hallway brings you back to the present moment. You then remember that Yuuji promised to return from the store and pizza place. And seeing as though time has passed enough for him to be done, the warmth of your body shifts to a disturbing shiver when the bedroom door opens up. “I got the pizzas and left them on top of the oven—“

The salmon-haired other stopped mid-sentence when his eyesight landed in your direction. You can only imagine what’s going through his mind when he looks at you and Choso because that was the same experience you went through a few hours back.

Yuuji looks at the two of you on top of the bed. Clothes decorating the carpeted floor, both your bodies free and nude, your tits out for him to see crystal clear. One of your hands holds a washcloth that harbors red, bloody stains. The other hand stretched out towards Choso’s mouth, where the younger notices fangs withdrew from your wrist. The newly drawn blood from your new mark connects to the sharp teeth of his older brother.

Thirty seconds go by where no one says anything, just three pairs of eyes and figures falling victim to the discomfiting silence of this situation. Until Yuuji starts to uncomfortably laugh at the sight before him for a few seconds. And then suddenly, he stops, and his balance gives way for his body to meet with the floor beneath him.

He fainted.

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

3K notes · View notes

jinkiezzsstuff · 1 month

Note

Hi! I know you just wrote a cockwarming fic with Alastor, but I was just wondering if you would be able to do one with Lucifer? I’m drooling just thinking about it. Thank you!

absolutely i don’t mind doing the same shtick but with other characters! i took a similar approach kinkwise but obviously it’s still different, hope you enjoy <3

warnings: cockwarming, lucifer is kinda a sub but not entirely, exhibitionism, not caught this time, creampie, gn reader i think in terms of body, lucifer calls you birdy, kinky reader and kinky luci, also not proofread, swearing and some dirty talk lmk if i missed any!!

word count: 1.4K

You sat on Lucifers lap, toying with his hair that peeked out of his hat. Lucifer insisted he had company to one of his all important long of hell meetings, however things went left when Mammon urged the king to come to one of his performances, that was definitely for the kings benefit and not just so Mammon could leech off his fame. So there you two sat, up in your own custom web which Lucifer was very much against but Mammon was pushy persuasive. So far things had been a bore, you sat on Lucifers lap paying more attention to the intricacies on his suit rather than the clowns on stage. Lucifer also seemed pretty bored, huffing and puffing occasionally, while muttering into your ear about how this was a scam or how he’d done this act a thousand times, needless to say you both be better off back at his home.

Eyeing up his bored face you casually traced your fingers along his jaw. “Hey Luce,” You whispered to him softly, his eyes casting down to you. “Wanna have a lil fun?” You grinned cheekily wiggling your hips against his, immediately he sucked in a breath, eyes closing. Lucifer wasn’t really good at hiding the need he had for you, often he would crumble under your hands, rarely he decided to be big and domineering, he much preferred when you had the power over him. Felt nice giving up power to someone after all the rest of his eternal life in hell there was no other choice but to stay in power.

“Whatever you want, birdy.” He cooed, eyes casted toward the stage acting as though he was indifferent to you. You unzipped the zipper on his white slacks, and reached your hand inside to palm his soft member. He wasn’t really insecure about being soft around you he was quite prideful in his body no matter the state, occasionally he’d feel not good enough but that typically had nothing to do with his looks, which you admit to being quite jealous of. You palmed him through his briefs, head rested on his shoulder you were annoyed at how the collar of his coat got in the way of his neck, prohibiting you from leaving pretty bruise marks on him. The king twitched, and coughed out fakely to cover the groans he wanted to make, he couldn’t help how sensitive he was when it came to you, it was like you had this spell on him.

Wiggling yourself closer to him you whispered to him, lips dragging sinfully across his ear. “What if somebody sees you like this Luci?” You purr mockingly, you knew he probably wouldn’t give a fuck, he’s been through too much as a king and a fallen angel to care about such things, nonetheless, hearing your scrutinizing tone furthered his arousal. He wasn’t, however, proud of the noise he made when your hand came up to tug at his hair at the base of his neck. “Ohhh golly,” Lucifer groaned beginning in a moan, he quickly fixed his mouth to act as though he was reacting to the show. “You want them to see us, don’t you?” You urged, feeling him grown and stiffen beneath you, it made your thighs clench with need, and suddenly you were onto more devious ideas. Lifting your garments, you pulled your underwear to the side as discreetly as you could. Lucifers eyes fixed on you, brown raised in confusion. “Cmon, let’s relax hm?” You asked, pulling his semi from the restraints of his briefs, pecking his lips as you did so. His eyes closed immediately, mouth chasing your lips as you pulled away, and who were you to deny such a good boy?

Leaning back in you hummed into him, his lips warm and soft, you could feel his lashes flutter against your face as your faces tilted, allowing eachother better access. You sneakily slipped onto him, wincing at the pain that you felt, however Lucifers arms came around to your thighs, helping you slow your pace. You felt every inch of him against your walls, it was hard to not whimper at the feeling of him slotted in you.

As your tongues sloppily danced together, the clown music played in the background, Glitz and Glam came up to perform, and the crowd cheered on. Beside your web was the greed king himself Mammon, who was too observed in the show to notice the fact you and Lucifer were swallowing each other whole. While the two of you sloppily kissed, saliva smearing across each others lips, your body naturally relaxed into his effectively sinking yourself down and bottoming out on his full erect cock.

Sighing against him in revelled in the feeling of him fully inside you, while also enjoying the way he trembled beneath you, not feeling the need to hide any of his desire from you. You pulled away abruptly leaving Lucifer whining, and starry eyed. Jerking up into you Lucifer smiled smuggly at the way you gasped, air entirely escaping your lungs. “How mean Luci,” You chide playfully lovelingly cupping his cheek. Leaning into your warmth the devil melted against your touch practically purring at you. “What can i say birdy, i’m eager to hear you. My favourite sound.” You could tell by the dreamy way he spoke he was already fucked out, and you’ve not even fucked yet.

Pecking his cheek you swatted his chest when he tried once again to grind into you. “No moving, whoever cums first has to call and talk on the phone while the other fucks em silly.” You grin wildly gripping his shoulders, you loved a good frisky game of fun, especially with Lucifer, you found it easy to participate in these types of games. Groaning lowly the devil rolled his neck, hands wrapping around your waist tightly. “Alright, but i'm totally gonna win.” Lucifer stated confidently, his red eyes flipping between you and the show. Glitz and Glam gone, there was some unnamed clown you’d never seen now entertaining the crowd, they seemed to like him.

You wiggled your hips subtly, trying to turn your body around a bit more toward the stage. Part of you wanted the distraction, part of you wanted to tease, either way it was purposeful. “Ohhohoo- you are- really playing dirty,” The king stressed, his tone jumping around anxiously as his claws tug into your thighs, undoubtedly drawing some blood. You hummed out an ‘mhm’ swirling hips round in a manner that could appear as innocent shifting to the outside eye looked casual. Lucifer moaned, curling into the back of your shoulder to bite down. You could feel him twitching almost like a throb, you weren’t helping with your involuntary contractions around his cock. “Alright sweetie calm down!” The king urged his voice breathy and panicked as he tried to stall your movements by clenching his arms around you. Unfortunately all that did was drag you nearer, feeling the entire length of him inside you grazing the delicate areas that made you tick.

You choked on your spit surprised by the abrupt sensation, your back arching away from him as you attempted to gain a little friction. “Lucifer please don’t,” You whined clutching his forarms that were flexed tightly around your torso. You could feel him nuzzling into your back, his heart beating wildly in his chest, then suddenly without any word, he was cumming. He moaned into your shoulder blades, bucking what he could up into you, rocking both your bodies, anything to get you to milk him. He continued to wiggle around recklessly, you clenched and whimpered at the feeling of him filling you, he always had so much in him. Finally after a moment his movement ceased, and like the devil he is, he snaked his hands around to play with you. You moaned as he whispered dirty things in your ear, “Who’s all needy now huh?,” “Cmon i need you raining off this web before we go,” things like that as he brought you to your orgasm.

You saw stars as you came, his dick still snuggly inside you as you clenched and came undone around him, head thrown back in bliss. After a moment of catching your breath you peered around, humility coming back into you, you spun around speedily, burying your face in Lucifers neck, who looked just as fucked out as you were. “Guess we gotta do this again over the phone?” Lucifer asked breathlessly, you huffed out a laugh at that. “Yep, loser.” You teased already thinking up all the naughty things you could put him through while he’s on call.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer magne x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer morningstar smut #lucifer smut

940 notes · View notes

verstappen-cult · 21 days

Note

PLEASEEEEE A LESTAPPEN X READER where reader and Charles are meeting jimmy and sassy for the first time hahahahah I think that would be fun! Thank youuuu

“What are you doing?” You ask Charles, who’s taking a little spray bottle out of his back pocket, as you walk out of the elevator.

“I read that cats like catnip.”

“You’re not going to spray catnip all over yourself!” You snatch the bottle out of his hands, making him pout at you. “I won’t let them like you more than me.”

“But what if they don’t like us at all?” Charles looks genuinely concerned and you fight the urge to laugh until you start thinking about it.

Max loves his cats, they’re his whole world. You’ve lost count of how many pictures he’s sent to the group chat just this week, so meeting Jimmy and Sassy is equivalent to meeting his family. And oh God, Charles is right. What are you going to do if they don’t like you? Max warned you that Sassy doesn’t like strangers and it takes her a while to warm up, and that Jimmy tends to perch up on one of the high shelves in the kitchen until he feels secure enough to come down. So, at least you know what to expect at first. But what if they react badly? What if they feel threatened by you and Charles? What if they feel jealous and don’t let you near Max!?

“Okay, I think we can spray some catnip over ourselves.” Charles’ face lights up, immediately taking the bottle from your hands and spraying some of it around himself. “But just a little.”

Charles is spraying you when the door opens revealing a very amused Max.

“What is that?” He asks with a smirk on his face.

“Perfume!” You say, taking the bottle and shoving it in your back pocket.

Max looks between you and Charles before stepping aside to let you into his apartment. He gives you two a chaste kiss on the lips before closing the door.

“What have you got there?” Max points to the bag in your hands.

“Oh, we bought some toys for the cats!” Charles says excitedly, taking the bag out of your hands and pulling the contents out. “Where are they?”

Max points a finger to the couch. And they’re right there, sitting on top of the cushions and looking warily at you and Charles.

“Hello, beautiful babies!” Charles squeaks, dragging you to the living room with him.

Sassy jumps off the couch, running to hide under a chair, far enough to still see you without being bothered. Jimmy, on the other hand, stays right where he is as Charles brings his hand closer to him. He doesn’t move, but sniffs his hand for about five seconds before rubbing his head against it.

Charles looks very pleased as he sits besides Jimmy. and he immediately jumps onto his lap, getting comfortable and asking for more ear scratches with a little purr.

Sassy, seeing how her brother is reacting, slowly makes her way back to the living room. She’s still unsure, so you grab one of the toys and crouch down, trying to lure her over to you. It takes her a couple of minutes to feel safe enough to shorten the distance, and you stop moving as she sniffs you, rubbing herself against your legs, not wanting to scare her.

You look back at Max with a big smile on your face, but he’s looking between you and Charles with a combination of surprise and confusion on his face.

“This is weird behavior.” He says, standing in the middle of his living room. He’s frowning and you can’t help but giggle.

“What can I say?” Jimmy is still purring on Charles' lap and you’re pretty sure he will never move from there again. “I’m irresistible.” He says, shrugging. Which is, you know, kinda true. Who can resist Charles Leclerc? Neither you nor Max could.

You’re too busy playing with Sassy to care about Max's hand on your lower back. If he wants cuddles, he can wait, right now all your attention is on the cats.

However, when you feel his hand on the back pocket of your jeans, you forget all about the little cat between your legs with her belly up waiting to be patted.

You and Charles make eye contact.

You’ve been caught.

“I knew it wasn’t perfume!”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #poly!f1 #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

1K notes · View notes

teenytinyjimin · 17 days

Text

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts fic #angst #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jk angst #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #fanfic #jk fanfic

788 notes · View notes

loserlvrss · 19 days

Text

꒰ 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ꒱ 김동현

summary : you’ve been bored of your boyfriends calm demeanor, so you decided to prank him just to see if he’d start a fight — however, it gave you something much better

genre : kinda angsty, suggestive, leehan x afab!reader tws : language, kinda toxic behavior, suggestive content author notes : sorry this took a while i’ve been supah swamped but i hope you enjoyed the direction i took your request in !! word count : 1.4k

you don’t know why you were doing this. even as you applied the black, green and blue makeup, you couldn’t think of a valid reason. yet, here you were, sat on your couch scrolling through your phone, just awaiting the opportunity to prank your sweet, unsuspecting boyfriend.

maybe he’d gotten too comfortable in your relationship. hell, you used whatever excuse to try and justify it. but, the truth is, you wanted to see if he had it in him to get mad at you. he was so damn peaceful all the time — you loved that about him, really — nonetheless, deep down, your heart raced with the thought; the anticipation when he’d finally catch a glimpse of your artwork that he’d deem someone else’s.

this was fun.

you knew it’d work. you’ve never let leehan purposefully leave marks on your skin, not because it didn’t feel good to have him kiss you, but simply because you’ve always found them tacky and a hassle to cover up. you’d wasted so much makeup in the past trying to do so, so whenever he’d come close to leaving purple patches, you’d tell him to stop. he’d even bargained with leaving them in places only he could see, but you still refused. especially if you couldn’t return the favor.

you knew this was an evil way to push his buttons, that you oh-so-desperately wanted to see pushed. it was selfish, really, however at this moment in time the plan was already set into action. you wanted to start a fight, just to see if he could.

he’s never gotten mad at you. he’s never yelled at you. he’s never dared put a hand on you. and that was a dream, but somewhere deep down, you knew it was also just as boring as it was desirable. you wanted him to yell at you — at least once — manhandle you — consensually, of course — you wanted so much, and maybe this wasn’t the right way to bring it up, but it didn’t matter anymore as his voice broke through the silenced air.

“what’s that?”

“what’s what?” you asked, acting obliviously as you scrolled through twitter and instagram in turns.

he shrugged, and you don’t know if it was the fact that he seemingly didn’t care, or if it was that maybe he just brushed it under the rug as anything else, that began to piss you off.

nonetheless, you decided you were in it for the long run. after all, you wanted to see if he’d start the fight.

and throughout the rest of the afternoon you’d catch leehan staring in your direction, shifting his gaze when you’d make eye-contact. he kept a calm demeanor, never asking again what the purple marks on your neck were. he’d even hugged you before he left for practice, getting all up close and personal with the artwork.

you were finding it hard to believe he hadn’t noticed.

maybe he was gathering his thoughts. maybe he was trying to decided why you didn’t smell like another man — why he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. maybe as much as his buttons were pushed, this was it for his stemmed anger. maybe dance practice was his way to relieve the stress you caused from time-to-time. maybe the cool, calm and collected leehan was the only version of your otherwise, smiley, boyfriend.

maybe you were beginning to feel bad because you had no idea the feelings he had towards this prank. did it upset him? you wouldn’t be none-the-wiser to it if it had. he was good at shielding emotions, and maybe that’s where you needed to draw the line. maybe that’s where your conversation should’ve began, instead of whatever the hell tiktok had inspired you to do.

you kept looking at the clock on your home screen, counting down the minutes until he’d come back to you. and just as you had decided to end the prank, opting for a civil — adult-ish — conversation, a text illuminated your dark screen.

it read: we need to talk.

yet you couldn’t decipher the hidden meaning. of course you knew what it was about, that’s the only thing that’s been wrong throughout the last few months between you two. what else could it be? and why, now that you were finally getting what you wanted, didn’t it feel good?

you didn’t answer him, partially because you didn’t know what to say; it was a prank. i just wanted to see if you’d get mad at me. i’m so bored of this. nothing seemed correct, or frankly, truthful.

you also knew that he wasn’t far. he wouldn’t have texted you otherwise, just to torcher you — though it would’ve been deserved. so, you waited by the door for your boyfriend to get back, the thought of washing away the eyeshadow long gone.

then, it finally opened with the pattern of your key code. the air became thick and you found it hard to swallow with a lump in your throat. were you sorry? yes. did you feel bad for being immature? yes. was a tiny part of you still curious to see how this would play out?

yes.

"y/n," was the first, and only, thing he muttered for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes. you watched as he put his bag down, eyed him as he took his shoes off, and almost burst when he ran a hand through his hair. maybe leehan was able to torcher you, even if unintended.

his eyes finally met yours, but then they drifted to your neck, and further to your collar bone. he knew. he's known since the first question left his lips hours and hours ago.

"what's that?" his arms snaked between each other, and you found it wrong to think it was hot, but you very much did.

almost like deja vu, the same feeling crept up from down within you. "what's what?" you reenacted. although this time, he didn't let it go. he approached you quickly, too fast to get away before you were sandwiched between the plaster and his body.

his hands were slow with movements. those oh-so-stupid-fucking-hands that had you, literally, at his fingertips. one forcing your head by your jaw to expose your neck, while the other brushed away the hair that disguised the marks from his view.

you fronted being indifferent, but truth be told, if he wasn't holding you up your knees would have buckled already, leaving you as a mess on the floor in front of him.

"you must think i don't know you," he voiced, holding eye-contact as he pushed his thumb between your lips, gathering just enough saliva to then press the digit to your neck and swipe. and it smudged with enough force, despite being labeled as waterproof. "tell me why you felt the need to paint these on. i couldn't think of one good reason all day, princess."

and the nickname he always called you — innocently and less than — had your heart in absolute shambles; the anticipation was just as good as if he'd raised his voice you thought. maybe your vanilla-scented boyfriend had finally gotten the hint that you wanted more, despite going about it in a less than thoughtful way. and maybe you realized that you didn't hate that he was always nice, no you loved that about him, but sometimes it was okay if he wanted to be a little bit meaner with you. after all, he could always say my ... anything he wanted, and that would still mean that he saw you as his forever only.

"i-i," you couldn't think straight when he attached his lips over the previously (fakely) marked spots. his breath was hot, lips gentle then firm as he sucked against the spots he knew you'd rarely let him have his way with. "i — uh, fuck. leehan,"

his voice was low against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and a whimper up your throat, "if you wanted something, you could've just asked me, baby. i'd give you anything."

the eyes that you've grown comfortable with always seemed to be there despite the firm placement he had you in. you knew he loved you more than anything, so you knew his words were true. and his demeanor broke when he kissed your lips, almost giving you whiplash.

his palms laid flat against your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweetly, "if you wanted everyone to know that you're mine, let me do it myself."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

407 notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: So many okay; body worship, HEAVY praise, multiple orgasms, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, hella petnames, fingering, kinda marking too, oh and cockwarming, a lil bit of a jealousy thing going, vague mentions of injuries

Genre: fluff & smut

Summary: The idea of you going on a date makes your friend confess feelings you didn't know they had

***

Meeting Marc Spector was something you'd consider a total fluke. A mishap with his suit had him limping down the street hardly able to hold himself up. Against... probably your better judgment, you brought him to your apartment- patched him up, got him some food, and let him crash on your couch. He was gone before you woke up in the morning and you honestly expected never to see him again. A couple of weeks later though he popped by to say thank you and introduce himself, you told him he could stop by if he needed help again. You didn't think he'd take you up on the offer but you were fast friends as you became his only confidante. Apparently, the vigilante life is not conducive to friendships, especially when you share your life with another; Steven Grant.

It was a while before Marc told you about Steven and you liked to call him Marc's best kept secret, considering Steven doesn't even know about it. It took even longer for you to meet Steven. Another mishap with Marc's suit had him frantically banging on your balcony door one night. You pulled open the door and he'd practically fallen into your apartment.

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

"Jeez! I thought that stupid bird was meant to protect you Marc!" You crossed your arms.

"Help now, be mad later. Oh! And if I wake up and I'm not me, lie." He barely got the last bit out before he practically fell on you.

"Heavens above you still haven't told him the truth?" You groaned technically to yourself as you shoved a now unconscious Marc onto your couch. Even with him passed out you'd gotten more than enough practice patching him up that you had it so down that you were quick and efficient. He was out for quite some time afterwards, you even made dinner before he suddenly startled awake.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing here?" The unfamiliar British accent immediately told you that night that Steven had woken up instead of Marc.

"Um- this is my apartment so that's where you are, I live here so that's what I'm doing here and my name is y/n. You're Steven right?"

"How did you know my name?" He'd looked at you suspiciously.

"I- I looked at your wallet for ID?" He does have his wallet on him so that lie was totally believable.

"Well why am I here?"

That was the question you were dreading from the moment Marc passed out on you.

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"I- I didn't see it happen. You were hurt when I got to you." You shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. You didn't see Marc get hurt. The answer seemed to satisfy Steven at the time but maintaining separate friendships with Marc and Steven wasn't something you wanted to keep up long term. Hence, with some gentle nudging, Marc eventually revealed himself to Steven and you ended up having to help the duo navigate the new dynamic.

However, where you thought Steven was Marc's best kept secret; a new player had him beaten. A secret so well kept Marc didn't even know until after you did. And his name was Jake Lockley. Meeting him had actually happened intentionally on his end. Apparently tired of watching the back and forth between you and his alters he stepped in to meet you himself. You'll admit you and Marc toed the line pretty much since you met, flirting with each other but not obvious enough to change your dynamic, and once Steven got comfortable with you it was only too fun to tease him. So in came Jake; the hidden protector, questioning you and ultimately deciding you were safe for them to be around. He even trusted you enough to facilitate his introduction to the other two. Now you've got the whole trio you can call friends and they often tell you how instrumental they consider you in maintaining stability in their shared life. You really enjoy having them around most of the time even with how chaotic it can be covering for, patching up, and keeping track of their system.

Tonight, while you're finishing your makeup for a date, you hear a knock from the living room. You're not expecting anyone right now so when you leave your room and find Moonknight on your balcony you're not exactly surprised. You open the door and the suit disappears as he walks into your apartment.

"What're you all dressed up for?" Marc asks taking in your outfit.

"Hello to you too Marc." You roll your eyes.

"Hello. What're you all dressed up for?"

"I have a date tonight." You say with a shrug heading back to your room knowing Marc will follow you.

"A date? What date? You didn't tell me about any date."

"I don't have to tell you about dates."

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

"It's a first date Marc I'm not getting married. You're making it a much bigger deal than it is."

"It is a huge deal. You haven't been on a date since we met!"

"Thank you for pointing out that Marc yes this is my first date in a while. Did you come here for a reason? Doesn't that bird of yours have errands for you?"

"I always come here when I'm done with Khonshu's stuff. This is why it's a big deal you didn't tell me about this date. It throws off our routine!"

"Marc you coming here to eat my food after running around for skelo-bird is not set in stone."

"It is set in stone. If it wasn't we wouldn't do it every time."

"Well it's still early, so when I finish my date I'll text you and you can come back over and your routine will be fine."

"That's not the same."

"I dunno what to tell you sweetie, I have to leave, I'm meeting this guy in like 10 minutes."

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

"Come ooon I'm way more fun than whoever this random guy is anyway."

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

"Let me get this straight, you want me to cancel my first date in over a year because it's more important that we watch a movie while you eat leftovers? Call me crazy but I'd personally rank those a little differently."

"I want you to cancel your first date in over a year because I don't want you to go on a date."

"Okay I know we're close but I feel like that's crossing a line a little bit. That's not really up to you."

"Princessa, are you intentionally misunderstanding him?" Jake's sudden appearance only further confuses you.

"No Jake. I genuinely have no idea what the deal is here and at this rate, I'm going to be late so one of you better start talking straight."

"He's jealous. He doesn't want you going on a date with anyone that's not... us, really. None of us do."

"All of this is about a crush? Bring Marc back out here." You roll your eyes.

"Look I did not send Jake out here to speak for me!"

"You are such a dunce." You smack his chest lightly.

"What?!"

"You don't want me to go on this date because you three like me and you couldn't just say that?"

"I dunno I guess I just didn't want to risk what we've already got, as friends." He says sheepishly.

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say exactly why you don't want me going on this date and I'll cancel."

"I don't want you to go on this date because I have feelings for you. Stay home. I can make it worth it in any way you ask."

"Any way that I ask?"

"I'll worship you like a god if you want me to."

"Won't that make that silly old bird of yours a little jealous?"

"Let him be if he is. All that matters is you not going on this date and me showing you my gratitude."

"Alright, I'll call and cancel the date."

"Don't bother. Who cares if he gets ghosted?"

"First of all, I'm nice so I care; secondly that's the shit that gets women stalked."

"Oh please, as if he'd ever be able to hurt you with us around." Marc scoffs.

"Okay, bodyguard. The call will take less than two minutes and you'll have my attention the rest of the night." You say grabbing your phone and stepping into the living room. You notice Marc following you as you call your date.

"Hello?"

"Lewis! Hi, I'm sorry to do this so last minute but something has come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner."

"Oh. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

"Uh- thanks but I'll be fine! I just gotta take care of a thing and I didn't wanna leave you sitting there waiting."

"Yeah no, thanks for letting me know. We can reschedule."

"Sure! Soon as I get a handle on things I'll reach out to reschedule." You say, ignoring the look Marc gives you.

"Alright no problem. Good luck with your thing." Lewis says before hanging up.

"You aren't actually rescheduling with him, are you?" Marc asks you.

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

"You making this hard for me on purpose sweetheart?"

"Not at all. Just not sure how things are gonna go." You smile.

"How things are gonna go? I'm gonna show you that canceling that silly date was the right idea and that you don't need anyone other than us."

"Us? Steven and Jake are in on this too?"

"Of course they are."

"Well, that's a big promise Marc, how do you plan to show me all of that?"

"I'm going to start by kissing you. Is that okay?" Marc asks, pulling you towards him with an arm around your waist.

"Absolutely." You say draping your arms over his shoulder. Marc's free hand comes up behind your head as he kisses you hard. You gasp against his lips and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Without warning, Marc lifts you into his arms and easily carries you back to your room, not even phased when you pull away from the kiss to squeal. He tosses you onto your bed and climbs over you with a smile.

"You have no idea how crazy we are about you." Marc breathes out, trailing kisses down to your neck.

"Crazy about me? Is that right?" You ask, a moan punctuating your question as Marc latches onto a particularly sensitive spot to turn purple.

"Completely." He says softly, staring at you so intently you pull him towards you for another kiss to escape the look in his eyes. Marc pulls away to tug your already bunched up dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he looks you over. "Fucking hell you're even more gorgeous than I could've imagined." Marc groans.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about me naked darling?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought as you take the moment of silence on his end to pull his shirt over his head and drag your nails down his chest appreciatively.

"I plead the fifth." Marc groans and moves to litter your chest in more patches of red and purple as he reaches under you to unhook your bra. His hands cover your breasts as soon as they're free, palms kneading the flesh while fingers toy with nipples. The sudden onslaught of stimulation has little whimpers falling from your lips that Marc decides he can't get enough of. He pulls one of your nipples between his lips, sucking, nipping, and tonguing at it to test your reactions, discovering all the sounds you make from this alone. "You make such cute little noises." He chuckles switching from one nipple to the other, pulling all the same sounds from you. Eventually, Marc trails his kisses down your stomach, soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. "So pretty." He whispers. He pulls your panties down your legs, kissing your thighs on the way down and back up. "I'm so going to enjoy this." Marc says before burying his head between your legs. He licks a hard stripe between your folds that makes you moan and his arms wrap around your thighs before you can even squirm. Marc's tongue swirls around your clit as he watches you, testing what pulls the best reaction from you. When a certain rhythm has your fingers tugging at his hair he settles into it, intent on making you cum like that. Whimpers and cries fall from your lips in quick succession as he sucks and laps at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You writhe and grind against him, although his grip on your thighs restricts your movement as he works you quickly towards an orgasm.

"Holy fuck Marc!" You groan, throwing your head back and pulling almost too hard at his curls but the man between your legs only lets out a pleased growl at the action. "Fuck I'm close." You pant out and Marc wraps his lips securely around your clit, sucking harshly until your legs tense and your orgasm crashes into you with a silent scream. Marc doesn't even let you fully ride out the high before his fingers slide into your opening. He curls the two digits just right and you can feel the pull in your abdomen when he brushes the spot inside you. Your back arches into him as he works you open with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. Your second orgasm hits you faster than the first your entire body twitching while you let out the prettiest whine Marc's ever heard.

"My goodness." Although the voice is muted in your pleasure fogged brain, you don't miss the accent in his words.

"Steven?!" You blink at him, chest still heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in the situation he's just been thrown into.

"Hi. I can't imagine Marc did this on purpose I-" Steven's words trail as his head snaps to the mirror hanging on your closet door. "He did this on purpose." Steven looks at you and then back at the mirror. "Why would you do that Marc?!" You pull his gaze back to you by grabbing his chin,

"Steven, calm down." You say.

"Clearly I've missed a lot because how did you two even end up like this?" Steven asks and your giggle at his confusion quickly turns into a whimper when the action makes you distinctly aware of his fingers still buried inside you. "My god, help me." Steven breathes out at the sound from your lips. "If this was your act of gratitude why am I here?!" Steven asks to the mirror and you suppose Marc told him how you, in his words, ended up like this. Steven makes a face at whatever Marc says next and then turns to you with a look you can only describe as curious. Before you can question it, his fingers inside you move tentatively, making you moan. He's less sure of himself than Marc had been but he watches intently as he slowly strokes your inner walls, enjoying the way you react to him. "You're absolutely breathtaking."

"And you, are simply adorable." You say bringing him down to kiss him. Steven is obviously much more nervous than Marc was and you take the lead in the kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips as you explore his mouth with your tongue. It seems your reactions feed his confidence as his fingers gain speed the longer you kiss him and soon you're moaning too much to actually do it properly.

"I love the sounds you make." Steven sighs. You pull his fingers from you before he can make you cum again and he pouts at you until you guide the fingers between your lips. You suck them clean, enjoying the way Steven takes a shaky breath at the action. You use one hand to undo his jeans and pull them down his legs, pulling his fingers out of his mouth for him to get up and shove them the rest of the way down with his boxers. You lean forward and take Steven into your mouth, swallowing him down as far as you can.

"Oh god." Steven groans and his eyes roll as he tosses his head back. You bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you go, enjoying the way he moans and shivers.

"I love the sounds you make too darling." You hum dragging your tongue along the vein that runs the underside length of his dick. Steven hisses and you wrap your lips around him again.

"Holy hell you're... really good at this." Steven's praise is breathy and stuttery. You take him all the way into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. Rather suddenly, you feel his fingers in your hair tugging you off of him.

"Now, it was my understanding that we were meant to be showing you gratitude." Your ears perk up hearing the accent change.

"Jake, yeah so I've been told." You hum.

"And yet here you are pleasing Steven instead of him worshiping you." Jake's thumb rubs along your bottom lip.

"Steven is just so much fun to tease." You smile.

"Tease him later princessa, tonight is about you. How lucky we are to have you in our life. How much of an honor it is to kiss you, to touch you, to please you." Jake intentionally speaks slowly, staring at you intently.

"You are... very good with words." You muse.

"Have our actions not supported them?"

"Marc definitely, and Steven- before I got my hands on him, yes. You however haven't done anything but talk." You smirk at him.

"Tell me what you want from me and it's yours. Anything you ask." Jake says.

"In other circumstances that would be... a dangerous promise to make. But tonight, I just want you inside me. I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"With pleasure." Jake pushes you onto your back and tugs your legs to pull you towards him. He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you. Your back immediately arches at the fullness of Jake bottoming out and you can't help but moan. "Fuck you're so wet." He groans dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment. Jake sets a rhythm of sharp thrusts, deep but quick.

"Sh-shit Jake! Feels so good." You whine, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting and his thrusts pick up speed.

"God y/n you're perfect. So gorgeous. Taking this dick like you were made for us." Jake huffs out. One of his hands reaches between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You squirm against his ministrations moaning as he drives into you repeatedly. "That's it princessa, moan for me, sounds so nice." He grits out, rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves. You grind against him, trying to bring your orgasm on quicker. "Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you let go around me. Please mi vida." Jake sweetly kisses you as he practically begs for your orgasm and a few thrusts later you're falling over the edge, nails digging into his back as he watches the way pleasure washes over your face. Once your eyes slowly peel open, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and changes the pace of his thrusts, slowing down now.

"You're gonna cum inside me aren't you Jake?" You ask with a pout specifically to get what you want.

"Mierda." Jake's eyes close for a moment. "Is that what you want princessa?"

"Yes Jake, please."

"I told you I'd give you whatever you ask me for." Jake shifts slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, they're sloppier now as he focuses on chasing his own release. "I'll pump you so fucking full, you'll be leaking. Fuck you'll look even prettier dripping like that."

"Please Jake, give it to me. Fill me up baby." You whine, grinding against him. His hips stutter and stop buried inside you and you the warmth of his orgasm inside you makes you moan. Before Jake can twist to lay beside you, you pull him onto you comfortable with the weight of him on you. "Don't move yet, let's just- lay like this for a bit, please." You say.

"Thank fuck you didn't go on that stupid date." Jake mutters and you giggle a little.

"Thank fuck you said something or I would've."

"Well, did we make it worth the stay?" "I'd say so." "Good. After a nap you can discuss the details, probably with Steven, he'll have the most to say." Jake mumbles into your neck.

"I'll have to talk to each of you ya know." You say.

"Sure but start with him. All I have to say is I think you're perfect, and we'd be lucky if you date us."

"You're not the only lucky ones." You say kissing the side of his face. Yeah. It might have been by pure chance that you crossed paths with Marc over a year ago but you're glad the rest of your decisions landed you here. Even if it's not the trajectory you saw that first interaction leading to, definitely worth it.

***

3K notes · View notes

abbyonmars · 4 months

Text

cw; fem!reader, mentions of sex, swearing.

wc: 1.7k. angst/fluff.

this is also kinda toxic imo sorry x

ellie can't won't sleep without having you in her arms.

but since the sun's setting your evening looked like hours of waiting for her. spamming her phone, chewing unsparingly at your already short and mutilated nails, heart beating relentlessly in your chest — all in result of each rapid thought that gushed through the boundless blackhole that was your worried mind, and the ceaseless growing pit of anxiety that dropped to endless oblivion in your stomach.

she had told you before she left that she would be back by 7:00pm to watch that movie she promised to watch with you. the one in which being the sequel to your favourite franchise, as well as it being the movie you had been begging her to come see with you for weeks. not only this, but it also happened to be your one year anniversary with her; you had spent so much time and effort to weave in a plethora of sentiments like dinner and gifts that you thought she would like and so patiently, you sat cross-legged on your side of the bed like the good, loyal girlfriend you were, waiting for her to come home.

and since hours before, you had been dolled up and ready to see her. your hair was intricately made, glitter was tapped to your eyelids — and underneath your tightly hugging button up and the thin fabric of your skirt laid a set of pretty pink lacy lingerie you were excited to surprise her with later.

but you were sat there for hours. you watched the clock turn from 7:00pm to 8, 8:00 to 9. but 9:00pm turned to 10, which soon turned into 12am and yet, no ellie.

some would argue that this isn't such a deal. you could claim your own indifference — just tuck yourself in, indulge in that perpetual doom-scroll before you fall asleep. you could just ask about her whereabouts in the morning, just don't make this such a big thing. she probably just happened to have too much fun.

however, this has happened one too many times, too many times for you to count. making in advance plans only to have her screw you over without word, continuously coming home to you with the same and overused, pathetic excuses that always resulted in an argument and tears — notwithstanding the heated make-up sex she'd treat you to in order to to ease her 'guilt' and to compensate for her assholery that day.

but this time you decided you were tired of waiting. you didn't feel like having that habitual screaming match at whatever time she'd decide to come home that night and you knew that whatever you did, you would always end up in the same predicament that was reimbursing your forgiveness, despite constantly being treated similar to the dirt barred between the crevices in her converse soles.

'she can do whatever she wants.' you tried to reassure yourself; after all, no one was there to do it for you. why fret? 'i'm not her mother. i don't control her.'

with your back turned to her side of the bed, you tried your best to fall asleep, watching the moon's gentle spill of light from the glass window of the room with half-shut eyes. for now, you were at some state of serenity, finding solace in the teasing winks of twinkling stars and small snippets of the wind's light whistles.

you'd been half-asleep for longer than you thought, merely lost in your absent thoughts about anything but her. but soon, it wasn't just you and the moon — interruption came by the creaking of the bedroom door along with the obnoxiously bright and artificial light that forced itself in through the crack of the entrance. by then you knew she was back, but you remained still and seemingly unstirred by her entry.

"babe," she whispered, her enunciation almost blending in with the wind's breeze. "you awake?"

but you stayed silent. no longer watching the darkened skies, you froze, shutting your eyes without any utterance and really tried to fall asleep that time — a few moments had passed, and your mind had eventually come to being on the brink of unconsciousness, almost derailed of its endless foreboding.

you shouldn't have gotten used to the feeling of your head no longer spinning, nor the induced tranquillity by being solitary. because once you felt the bed dip in next to you, your stomach was suddenly in knots all over again. all the progress towards the settlement you were better off with was expeditiously diminished, and all from hearing a singular sigh from the girl next to you.

although you tried your best to contain it, a sole tear happened to roll down your reddened cheeks, and a small sniffle was made from your allegedly sleeping peace.

"baby," she breathed, sliding her cold hands onto your bare shoulder, "you're awake - listen, i'm sorry i didn't call, or—"

with an abrupt movement you turned to face her with wrinkled eyebrows and a scrunched face, lips turned downward into a lip-bitten frown and with eyes that turned glassy instantaneously. she met you now with a similar looking frown as she eyed the fresh dampness of your cheeks, her stomach now swirling with shame.

"where were you?" you rasped. you took in a sharp and shaking breath, watching the way her blinking green eyes bored back into yours. "where were you?"

"i'm sorry," she answered, her voice quietening to a murmur upon seeing your eyes roll in response. "i just lost track of time—"

you scoffed. letting out a dry chuckle, you swallowed down the lump that threatened to form in your throat, well aware of the one also forming in hers. "we had plans. don't you care about me?"

with that, her eyes widened as she instantly sat up, and her voice all of a sudden grew louder in her attempt to defend herself.

"what? of - of course i care about you, y/n. i just—"

"you just, what?" you huffed, sitting up next to her. "you just - lost your phone? couldn't get away? or did you just.. forget? because, i wouldn't be surprised if you did, since—"

"jesus, will you just let me talk?" she muttered exasperatedly, bringing up a hand to rub her temples with her thumb and first two fingers. "y'know, you're always jumping to these ridiculous excuses. just let me explain."

"fuck, i wonder why," you sighed. sarcastically smiling, you leaned forward to your knees, delving your face into the palms of your hands. "do you even know what today was?"

she blinked. she let a beat of silence pass, her mouth being slightly hung open with a sort of blank cluelessness. "... w-what?"

and came another scoff from you and weak tears slipping from your orbs, you responded, "our anniversary. our one year, together."

as if she couldn't feel or look any worse than she did now, blood drew from her face, bestowing upon her freckled cheeks the palest you have ever seen her look. she withdrew a quiet breath, sliding her narrow fingers up her neck and over her mouth as she payed mind to the growing disappointment on your face.

you waited for any development of voice, but alas, to nothing. you bit your lip, muttering a quiet, 'forget it' as you turned over to lay on your side, and your head plunged back into the sinking air of your pillow as you pulled the duvet up to cover the shivers upon your bare neck.

she sighed. sliding her hand back onto your shoulder in a forbearing attempt to get you to turn back to her, she gritted her teeth and her hand moved away once you shook her off, only tucking yourself tighter into the covers.

"go to sleep, ellie," you muttered, sniffling once more.

"baby — please. you are so important to me."

"sleep."

forthwith, ellie grew tense. her other hand shot up to nervously rub at the lobe of her ear as she continued to plead with you, but having unsuccessfully drawn any sort of amenable answer she eventually gave up, deciding that she'd push for some stage of absolution of the sort in the morning.

but having barely endured the unresponsiveness from you, the next half hour was spent restlessly by the girl; within short intervals she kept shuffling an uncomfortable amount in her space, consequently perturbing you each time. it took quite an ounce of strength not to tell her to stop because you knew that if you took action, she'd take it as an initiative to talk again.

yet unknowingly, you were in that same dilemma. your side of the bed felt particularly colder than normal, and your heart spiked with something other than your determining stubbornness — suddenly, you no longer felt consoled by the room's solitude from earlier. even with her next to you, you couldn't have felt more alone.

"y/n," she whispered. "i know you're awake."

you sniffed. shuffling slightly in place, the warmth that you were well accustomed to gradually felt like it moved closer to your own body, and you felt the light graze of her fingers once more, skimming gently along your arm.

"please," she breathed. "angel, i- i can't sleep. let me touch you."

a moment's hesitance happened to come alongside a huff that indicated you finally caving into her touch. without turning you reached for her hand and you threw it around your waist, squeezing your eyes shut in slight regret and yet, ease.

letting out a small sigh of relief, she tightened her hold around your torso and pressed your back up to the front of her body. her hand moved to the dip of your hip and stayed there, and you could feel her heart racing against you — somehow, even after the torment she unintentionally put you through, your own stomach swarmed with butterflies and the tension within you dissipated almost in an instant.

"thank you," she mumbled, lips lingering around the crook of your neck. she moved your hair aside, planting soft kisses up the skin of your tensed shoulder and to your ear.

"i'll make it up to you," her warm breath hit your skin and tickled the back of your ear, the rasping of her low voice sending a different ray of knots into your stomach. "i promise."

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

hii i'm back

i hope you're all well :')

pls let this be a (very poor) reminder to not let anybody treat you less than you're worth. if this happened to hit home, i'm sorry — know that whatever you've been through, you are worthy of love and respect. please don't think otherwise

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou ellie #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams angst #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #wlw

624 notes · View notes

aquaquadrant · 2 months

Text

Philophobia

Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.

A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.

So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

Philophobia

~*~

“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.

The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.

Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.

… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing.

Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”

“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”

The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.

“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”

He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.

“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”

Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”

“From murder?” Scar gasps.

Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”

Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.

“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”

“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”

“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”

They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.

But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.

And his name is Scar.

Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…

… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.

So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.

(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)

So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.

But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.

“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”

Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.

It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.

Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.

“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”

A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”

Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”

Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”

“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”

Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”

Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.

Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.

It means that they’re Up To Something.

… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.

“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”

Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”

Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

~*~

“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”

“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”

Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…

“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…”

Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.

The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’.

In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…

“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”

Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”

“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”

Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”

“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Grian gives them a warning Look.

They give him a cheeky Look back.

“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”

“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”

Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.

It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.

See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.

The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.

Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. “We should take some pictures for her.”

“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”

Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.

“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”

Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”

“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”

“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”

Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.

Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”

I’m close.

Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.

Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”

“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.

After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.”

Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”

Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”

Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”

“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”

The front door slams shut.

That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-

The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.

Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.

There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.

Footsteps.

They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.

Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-

The footsteps stop.

Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-

Bye-bye!

The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.

It’s over.

Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.

A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-

“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”

Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.

Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.

This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.

Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.

Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.

Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.

Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”

No way.

“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”

“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”

“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”

He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-

Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.

Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”

Wait. Wait just a second.

Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it?

Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.

“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”

Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”

“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”

Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”

“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.

“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”

Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.

And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.

He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”

Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-

“... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”

It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”

“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”

That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”

“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”

Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”

Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”

“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”

Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.

Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.

In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.

Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is.

Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.

Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.

“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”

Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.

“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”

“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”

“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”

“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”

“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”

“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”

“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”

“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”

Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”

“Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.

The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.

“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”

Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”

“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”

Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.

Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”

“Scar!”

~*~

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #scarian #my writing #listen i am only a casual phasmo enjoyer and idk anything about architecture school pls don't come for me abt any inaccuracies #just here for a good gay spooky time #wanted to see if i'd be any good at writing commissions (ie. solely based off someone else's idea) and i had FUN #but it's always easy to be inspired by mel <3

429 notes · View notes

hollowdeath · 4 months

Text

professor potter

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: 2 years after the war, harry accepted a position as a substitute professor at hogwarts and recognized you from his years as a student. old feelings come to the surface as you both try to remain professional to keep his position safe.

content warning: slight teacher/student dynamic (they used to be classmates, reader is 18+), mostly slow burn & angst. smut mostly doesn't happen til the end (masturbation, penetration)

word count: 12.5k

a/n: wrote this for fun between working on requests! thank you to everyone who sends them in, they're so good and i'm excited to post more soon! just another fluffy, angsty harry fic taking place in school w a hint of smut...kinda similar to my last one but thats ok ! as always not exactly book/movie/canon accurate i apologize !

it's your first day of your last year at hogwarts, and you're probably the only student here that's not completely thrilled to be back. young witches and wizards running around you in the halls with their robes dragging on the ground, completely in awe with each other at the architecture and moving portraits.

you have to admit, if hogwarts does anything right, it's the ambience. probably the only thing you'll miss after leaving this year is the magic castle itself, particularly the library and your dorm room, which have been your sanctuaries for the past 7 years. there's just no place in the world, even the wizarding world, you've found, that quite compares to hogwarts.

but no, unfortunately, not even the grandiose castle of every young wizard's dream was enough to make you want to stay here even a day longer than you had to. and trust, you were counting down the days.

there was a lot that went into your disdain for the school. after the war in your 5th year, nothing had been the same. sure, the building was restored to its original form and even had some upgrades installed, but the energy within the walls felt so…unsettling.

it had been more than 2 and half years since then, and most students who remember the war well had either graduated or moved on from it. you, however, continued to feel the effects of it every day.

you've had a lot of personal struggles since then mentally, which affects your social life. you've overheard your friends talking about how they don't feel like you're the same person and you inevitably bring them down. it wasn't long after that they stopped talking to you completely. you didn't bother to rekindle the connection; you were ready to leave this place behind anyways, what was the point in faking a friendship for another year?

even without all that, you truly just hated your classes. you actually used to be a scholar student in your day, consistently making the top of the headmaster's list every year until the war. and you still loved headmaster mcgonagall, of course, you don't think that'd ever change, it was mainly the other professors that gave you a hard time. once you showed signs of struggling and burn out, it was like they just completely gave up on you and moved on to the next eager, bright-eyed bushy-tailed 1st year to dote on.

no matter, because again, you were ready to leave for a variety of reasons. even if you had loved your professors and graduated at the top of the class, you still had no friends to celebrate with. and even if you had those so-called "friends" back in your life, you still felt completely alone with them.

and so you laid in bed, the same bed you've had for 7 years now, retracting the ornate trim on the ceiling like you have a million nights before.

you decided to look back at your schedule once more, floating the paper out of its folder in your bag and towards your open hand. you read through it slowly, but nothing had changed. pretty much the worst line up of classes you've had so far. particularly your least anticipated course, defense against the dark arts.

at this point, you'd had more than enough when it came to the dark arts. those death eaters nearly killed you in that war, and actually did manage to kill too many of your classmates and teachers in the process. you saw your second home crumble in front of you, classrooms you grew up in completely leveled and the bridge burned to the ground, so much death and destruction over nothing but power. you resented the dark magic in this world.

sighing, you set the paper down on your bedside table and roll over, attempting to fall asleep. you have plenty of early classes this year and don't look forward to having to wake up with the sun to make it to them on time.

you're wasting time in the bathroom just before your defense against the dark arts, your last class of the day, when your peace is interrupted by a group of girls who come in giggling and talking rapidly amongst each other. from inside your stall you can't help but tune into their gossip. it's the only thing you could hear and, who cares, you could use some good drama.

you tried to dissect their conversation but they were constantly talking over each other, squealing, giggling, and you couldn't understand a thing. after a few moments of craning your neck towards the door to get a better listen, one girl's voice stood out amongst the rest as she asked, "okay, but, who's going to try and flirt with potter first?" her question was followed by many desperate "me!" "me!" "me!"s, a wave of giggling following.

potter. there's no way…

the bells begin ringing, signaling your next class is starting soon, and the girls go rushing out of the bathroom together. you slowly open the stall door and walk to the closest mirror. pale, like you've seen a ghost.

they couldn't possibly be talking about harry potter, right?

just his name had become plenty famous in its own right. the boy who lived; the boy who lived twice. you hadn't heard his name mentioned in a long time, though that's not hard when you've hardly interacted with anyone here in a long time.

you remembered harry from your years before the war that you had shared with him. he was 2 years ahead of you, so it wasn't often you had the chance to speak with him, but he was pretty much as legendary as one student could be at hogwarts. however, whenever you did manage to have a conversation with him, you always thought he was cute. really cute.

okay, so maybe you had a ginormous crush on him your entire time at hogwarts. but so did pretty much every other girl. but you didn't just think he was cute, you admired his gentle nature and timid personality. despite his heroic and outright dangerous adventures, he was always so kind, so humble…

the bells begin ringing again, meaning you're now late to class. "shit." you mutter, grabbing your bag and stumbling through the bathroom door.

you're jogging to your dark arts class with a racing mind, still wondering why those girls would mention potter's name so randomly.

you turn the corner and see the classroom door is already closed. "shit." you mutter again, stomping your foot. now you have to open the heavy doors and draw everyone's attention towards you, quite literally the last thing in the world you want right now.

sighing, you push open one of the doors, making the loudest noises you've ever heard echo throughout the silent classroom. you walk in and, as expected, all eyes are on you.

you grit your teeth and close the door behind you, making your way towards an empty seat in the middle of the room. the silence lingers as your footsteps hit the ground, trying your best not to make eye contact with anyone. you hear a few snickers and whispers coming from behind, and you can already tell it's your old friend group. you roll your eyes, sighing as you drop your weight into the creaky wooden seat.

you hadn't realized, but headmaster mcgonagall was at the front of the room. you noticed once she continued talking, looking up to see her smiling at you. you returned it. you love how she's always liked you despite your grades slipping lately.

you quickly look back down at your hands as people begin to turn away from you, drawing their attention back to mcgonagall as she continues to introduce the class.

"like i was saying, class, we apologize for the change this semester and hope you'll be understanding of us as we navigate this situation carefully. i suspect you'll all be respectful and courteous to our guest as he donates his time to hogwarts and to you, our students."

you look back up, a confused look on your face. what change? what situation? what guest?

it didn't take you long to connect the dots. it's like everything was in slow motion. the girls talking in the bathroom, the guest, the reason all the front rows of seats in class were completely filled with girls…

"please, class, welcome hogwarts' very own, mr. harry james potter."

all at once, your eyes landed on harry, who had been sitting to the side, obscured from your vision by several girls and a pillar. as he walks towards mcgonagall, eager applause erupt from the girls and the boys offer mediocre claps. you're too stunned to react, watching harry intently as he shakes mcgonagall's hand with that same timid smile.

you can hardly believe your eyes. what is going on? why is he here? and how the hell does he look even better now than he did 2 years ago?

"thank you, headmaster mcgonagall," harry says shyly, turning to the students. his eyes immediately fall on you. you try to convince yourself he's looking just in front of you or even past you, but you can feel his stare into your eyes. its the only thing that breaks you out of your shock.

you blink a few times and slump into your seat, feeling your blood run cold at harry's eye contact. he looks down at the desk he's standing at and shuffles a few papers. you sink even lower into your chair. this can't be good.

"uh, well, hello…everyone," harry says awkwardly, earning some flirtatious giggles from the girls just ahead of you. "it's a pleasure to be here, really, despite the circumstances. uh, i'm sure as some of you know…i've been very close with the weasley family for years and feel devastated for bill– uh, professor weasley, that is," harry corrects himself nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at his papers again.

"and when he reached out to me personally, specifically me out of anyone, to teach in his place for this semester, i couldn't say no to him. so, while it's a real honor to be here with you all, please know it's just for this semester and then professor weasley will be back to continue with the lesson plan in the spring," harry explains, looking around the room yet always letting his eyes land on you specifically with a lingering gaze.

harry goes into the schedule for the semester, the skills you'll be learning, and, well, you can't really focus on what else because you're just completely lost in your own head.

harry potter, the harry potter, is your professor for an entire semester.

you were completely dumbfounded. he couldn't hardly be older than 20 years old at this point. he had only left hogwarts just 2 years prior, yet he looked so different. though the glasses and hair stayed relatively the same, he had matured in the face. a slight beard, defined smile lines, and he'd definitely spent some time in the gym…

seeing him in a button up with his old gryffindor tie on drove you mad. is he really getting you worked up in the middle of class by just standing there? you feel like you're 14 again, staring him down in the courtyard from behind a tree.

it doesn't help that you swear he keeps looking at you. specifically you. his gaze is unmistakable at this point, it can't be a coincidence.

you try to stop yourself from having these thoughts and physical reactions. if he's going to be your professor for an entire semester you have to get over this silly crush that was never going to work out anyway. though you're soon turning 19, it makes no difference if he's working with the school, it would never be allowed…

what are you even saying? as if anything would ever happen except in your dreams. all you're going to do is lust for him until christmas and then he'll be gone again, his name nothing but a spoken legend again.

before you can process all he's said, harry announces that everyone's free to leave once you grab a textbook from him. girls are immediately standing up and running to get in line, and the boys are rolling their eyes as they sluggishly follow behind.

you're inevitably the last one, getting a headache as you listen to girls try to ask harry all kinds of questions for a bit of his attention. he mostly just gives simple answers or laughs them off, referring back to the class or the textbook he was handing them in some way to change the subject.

mcgonagall eventually shoos the girls away, which harry thanks her for in a low tone. he hands a book to each of the boys in front of you before it comes down to you. as the boy in front of you is being escorted away by mcgonagall, you briefly catch harry putting the library card of your book inside the front cover before he closes it.

your eyes connect as he hands the book to you, but he doesn't let go. your heart instantly flutters.

"it's nice to see you again, [y/n]," he says softly, letting the weight of the book fall in your hands.

the way he says your name has you frozen in place. his pretty blue eyes have stayed just as mesmerizing. it takes a moment before you're able to wrap the book in your arms, offering him a friendly smile as you softly reply, "you too, harry…"

you're quickly making your way back to your room with the biggest, cheesiest smile plastered on your face. he remembered you. you had barely ever interacted with harry, only a handful of times as far as you could remember, and you were sure he had completely forgotten about you, or at least forgotten your name. you tried to chalk it up to him having access to the attendance records of the class and reading over your name, but you still felt like a giddy school girl skipping along day dreaming about her crush.

when you got back to your dorm, you set the class textbook down on your desk and went to turn around before looking back at it longingly. harry had just put the library card back in the book before handing it off to you. you were most likely crazy, but something inside you was insanely curious to see if he had done something to the card.

you slowly opened the book and took the card out, a blank piece of cardstock except for a fresh label printed at the top. you sigh, almost putting it back before seeing something on the card catch the shimmer of the light.

you give the card a curious look. you turn it in your hands towards the light, trying to see what's on it. before giving up in frustration, a thought comes into your brain.

no…

you dig into your luggage, still unpacked from the day prior, looking for your old ink and quill. once you find them you come back to the card, setting it on your desk as you open the ink pot. you dip your quill in the ink and touch it to the spot you noticed earlier.

as you watched, the ink collected into letters and numbers, forming a message across the dotted lines of the check out columns. you were stunned. harry actually wrote to you in disappearing ink? you thought you were delusional thinking it was a possibility, but here was the proof plain as day:

[y/n],

hagrid's, 8:30pm

harry

you kept rereading the lines over and over before they slowly disappeared, fading away into the paper. you stood back in pure disbelief. what does this mean? obviously it means he wants to meet with you, but for the life of you you just can't figure out why. you two barely knew one another personally, it had been two years since you'd seen or heard of each other again, and now he's secretly inviting you to hagrid's after hours using disappearing ink? as your substitute professor, too…

from 5-8 pm you mainly paced around your room in both lingering disbelief and unbridled excitement. though you had no idea why harry had invited you out in secret, you were anxious just to be in his presence at his request.

you spent forever deciding on your outfit, feeling a bit silly for putting so much effort into this suspicious rendezvous that you were still clueless about.

sneaking out had become somewhat natural to you over the years. you knew all the blind spots of the castle and could hear a prefect coming from a mile away. you were out of your room and walking down to hagrid's completely unnoticed in less than 10 minutes.

on your way down the hill, your mind is racing with possibilities of what this meeting could entail.

arriving at hagrid's hut, you admire the warm glow of the windows and intoxicating smell coming from the smoking chimney – a mix of wood and garlic. hagrid's pumpkins are just beginning to plump up, his yard scattered with overgrown vines.

as you walk up to the door, a wave of anxiety hits you. knocking seems like the most impossible task in the world all of a sudden.

you steady your breathing, let your heart rate slow, and knock before you have the chance to stop yourself.

a few seconds of some rustling can be heard behind the door before it swings open. harry greets you with a warm smile. no longer dressed for class, harry looks quite adorable in a comfy sweater and baggy jeans standing before you in the hut.

"[y/n], you got my message," he says, clearly impressed. you couldn't believe this was real. he really did leave you that note on purpose. just hearing him acknowledge it made your heart race all over again.

"i-i did," you say in shock, searching his expression for an answer to all your questions. why are you here?

harry gestures for you to come in. "well, join me, please," he insists. you politely smile and enter the hut, the smell of food making your mouth water immediately. "smells amazing in here," you comment under your breath.

harry closes the door, looking back at you with a shy smile. "oh, thank you. it's for us, actually." he tells you, nodding his head towards the dining table.

completely set up with a tablecloth, harry has food plated for the two of you on the tiny table, along with tea still steaming on the stove.

"if you don't mind, of course," he checks with you, his voice soft and unsure. you look back at harry, barely able to grasp what's happening before you reply, "of course,"

he suppresses a grin as he gestures to the table once more. "please," he prompts you. you hand him your bag and jacket before taking your seat at the table, admiring the food he prepared for you. you're still lost in thought when harry asks, "tea?" holding the kettle from the stove.

"please, thank you," you reply. he pours you both cups of tea before bringing them to the table with a smile on his face.

as you're eating you notice a record playing in the corner you hadn't heard earlier. it fills the space nicely as you both take your first bites of dinner. "hope you like it, i wasn't sure what to make," he says nervously.

wiping your lips with a napkin, you simply tell him, "it's lovely,"

after another moment or so, harry sits back in his chair. "so…[y/n]..." he sighs. hearing him say your name like that makes your brain fuzzy for just a second before he speaks again. "you're probably, um, wondering why…"

you stifle a laugh at his stalling, getting a hint of confidence as you interrupt him. "wondering why professor potter secretly invited me to have a home cooked dinner with him?"

harry goes still, his eyes searching your expression as a blush grows over his cheeks. he swallows nervously, blinking and shaking his head before attempting to respond. "u-um, yeah, that,"

smirking, enjoying his nerves, you wait for his explanation with your arms crossed and a raised brow. he clears his throat and diverts his eyes from your gaze. he takes a sip of tea before smacking his lips and looking back at you.

"i just, i haven't seen you…" he starts, eyes softening at you. "i-i know we didn't talk much, but…i always cared for you." the last part was hard for harry to get out, a weight lifting off his shoulders in the process.

you were blushing, but more than that you were sweating. this is like something you would dream about as a kid. hell, even just earlier today…

"when i saw you today…in class…" he seemed uncomfortable referencing that. "i just…a lot of memories came back to me," his hands move with him nervously as he speaks.

he sighs and stands up, his body language clearly stressed. you haven't said a word, you simply can't. what could you possibly say?

harry's facing the fireplace, his head in his hands. "look, i just, now that i'm your professor this semester i just think…" he takes a moment to find the words before turning to you. "i had a crush on you. okay? there. god damn it," harry huffs angrily, rolling his head back as he throws his hands down.

"i had a crush on you for like 3 years, it was stupid, and i don't want it to affect my teaching with you. so…i guess i practically set up a fucking date to tell you this, sent hagrid away for the evening for nothing…" he gestures to the table, sighing in defeat.

you're stunned into silence, to say the least. there aren't words to describe what's going on in your head at this moment.

after a moment harry looks back at you, his gaze softening once again. "[y/n]...please understand i wouldn't be telling you any of this unless i thought there was another way i could deal with it. when i saw you today…it was like i was 16 again," a small smile creeps onto his face before he wipes it away.

"and if i didn't tell you now, it's all i would've thought about when i saw you, so…yeah. there." harry says with a huff, avoiding eye contact with you.

before you can even process what's going on, your body reacts for you. you stand up, walking over to harry, getting his attention off the floor. he looks at you almost with fear in his eyes at how close you are. you sigh shakily before speaking.

"harry…u-um, professor potter…" you correct yourself. "please, just, harry…for now at least," harry insisted, his eyes apologetic.

"harry…" you say, suppressing a grin. "you don't have to worry. really…um, it was definitely mutual, to put it lightly…"

harry gives you a surprised look. "really?"

you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him and towards the fire, enjoying the warmth. "harry, you forget who you are sometimes. essentially every girl i knew had a crush on you at one point."

harry's a little flustered at this statement, also taking a step closer to the fire, and towards you. "i-i wouldn't say that, i was definitely not that lucky back in the day," he jokes.

"so those girls that were practically all over you during class today…?" you tease him. "'oh, professor potter, what can i do to get a good grade?'" you mock their voices, giving him puppy dog eyes as you lean towards him before laughing and turning towards the fire. "is that not luck?" you ask with your arms crossed, a smirk hiding your slight jealousy.

harry's silent for a few moments before you look over at him. you see his eyes dark and fixated on you for just a second before he blinks and shakes his head at you, also turning to the fire. "please. they're children. they crush on any slightly older guy they see."

you roll your eyes again at his denial. "some of them were my age, well on their way to being 19. but, whatever you say."

the fire crackles in front of you two, filling the space and creating a warm glow. "besides…none of them are you." harry says. you look over at him, and he's lost staring at the fire. he feels you looking at him and quickly corrects himself. "i mean, nobody was like you, at least to me, back then…" he trails off awkwardly, wincing at his own choice of words.

you adore his nervous antics. he's just the same sweet, timid boy you remember, except he's a bit taller with a 5 o'clock shadow and looks gorgeous in the glow of a fireplace right now.

"i've really mucked this night up, haven't i? i was supposed to tell you about the crush calmly and professionally, with no inappropriate comments, and send you on your way into the night with your first reading in the textbook…" harry sighs, giving you a pathetic look.

"well…" you start. "your first mistake was probably leaving me a secret note, and cooking me a wonderful dinner," you gesture towards the table. harry lets out a pathetic laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, probably."

you don't know why you feel the need to, but you instinctively grab for harry's hand. he gives you a surprised, scared look.

you try to reassure him with a soft smile. "harry, i appreciate you telling me. i hope it can make this semester easier for you."

harry smiles in return, but it's not genuine. he looks like he's holding back from letting you know how he really feels.

regardless, he invited you two to finish up your food, laughing as you both attempted to resume casual conversation without the awkward air.

surprisingly, the two of you naturally begin to talk up a storm, reminiscing on memories and catching up on what's happened since then. harry tells you about his career as an auror and his experiences that lead him to being able to teach defense against the dark arts. when professor weasley's wife had died of sudden illness, the only person he wanted to take his place was harry.

you're hesitant to tell him about your lack of eventful news, practically hiding your face in embarrassment as you admit that your grades have been suffering since the war.

harry put a reassuring hand on your knee, his chair pushed closer to you. you had both long since finished dinner and just talked, enjoying the fire as harry continued to feed it wood every so often.

you looked up at him, melting at how adorable his tired eyes looked through his glasses. "i get it. trust me." he tells you. his voice puts you at ease, and you don't feel quite as embarrassed as before.

"maybe this semester i could help you. if you'd like, of course," harry offers. you smile. "of course."

as you're slowly making your way towards the door to leave, harry watches you search through your bag to find chapstick. as you're putting it on, he continues to watch you. you sneak a glance at him, his face soft and full of admiration.

"you know, if i may say, in the least inappropriate manner possible…" he says with a laugh, causing you to laugh with him. "you have truly only gotten more beautiful after all this time, [y/n]."

looking over at him, you can feel your face form a cheesy grin with blushing cheeks. "well, thank you, that's very kind," you say, putting your chapstick away and taking another step towards the door. "but, really, i should be saying the same about you."

harry waves you away, but you notice the smile planted on his cheeks. "please," he says sarcastically.

he reaches for the door to open it for you, and finds himself rather close to you by accident. you smile up at him, and he nervously steps back.

"u-uh, thank you for coming tonight, really, even if it was a bit weird…" harry says, an embarrassed laugh following. giggling with him, you take a step outside. "it was nice. but, no more invisible ink. just ask me from now on, okay?" you ask, still giggling at him.

harry shakes his head at himself. "will do."

you give him a warm smile before reaching in for a one-arm hug, resting your head on harry's shoulder for just a second before pulling back. "i'll see you tomorrow, professor potter."

enjoying the shocked and flustered look on his face, you walk away still laughing, making your way up the hill and towards the castle. you heard the door shut behind you quickly after you left, but could feel harry's lingering eyes following you through the window the entire way back.

that night you're laying in bed trying to convince yourself everything that just happened wasn't a dream. if it weren't for your full stomach and muddy shoes sitting by your door you might've convinced yourself it really was all an illusion. rather than dreading the next day of classes, you're actually excited to wake up as it only means you'll see harry sooner.

though you're not sure exactly why. yes you'd had a friendly conversation with him tonight after he admitted his feelings towards you, which still hasn't quite settled in yet…but what happens now? he's still your professor for the next 5 months minimum, and you both know you used to like each other. harry might feel better getting it off his chest, but you were perfectly fine keeping that secret to yourself like you always had. if anything, now it's the only thing you're going to think about every day.

rolling over, you try to fall asleep without thinking about harry too much.

it had been a few weeks since you met with harry that night in hagrid's hut, and things were going…okay, so far.

well, to be completely honest, you had utterly fallen back into your crush on harry harder than you ever had before.

and you tried to stop yourself this time. really, you did. working with harry in class and then stopping by his office at least 3 times a week for his help in other classes was a lot of time to be spending with a professor, and you rather despised just how fast harry made your heart beat or how easily his eyes could distract you.

so you tried your best to convince yourself it was lingering feelings from your past self, even trying to have a crush on other boys in your year to distract your brain. that failed miserably. none of those boys were attractive or interesting on their own, especially in comparison to professor potter…

but you couldn't fool yourself. you still felt the same butterflies seeing harry now like you did in 5th year. when he's talking to you in the quiet of his office, reading your textbook to you, you feel like the only two people in the world. when he fixes your hands to hold the wand properly, or moves your arm for you in the correct pattern to cast a spell, you can't focus for the rest of class. if his eyes linger on you just a bit too long during one of his lectures, a knowing smile growing on his face, you melt in your seat.

there was no denying it. you liked him more now than you ever had before. maybe it's just the sheer amount of time you've spent with him this past month or so, but your feelings for him had never been this strong in the past. there were days where he was quite literally the only thing you thought about, or at least wanted to think about. though you were doing better in your other classes, it was only because of him. you spent barely any outside time putting effort into these classes because, ultimately, you were completely distracted by harry.

and not just the idea of him, but particularly the growing tension you had noticed between you two recently.

you also tried to convince yourself that this was going on in your head. but there were just too many instances of prolonged eye contact, harry sitting a bit too close to you during your tutoring sessions, and lingering hands on your skin that made you question if harry maybe wasn't entirely over his crush either…

not that you tried to make it easy for him. since the semester started, you've been taking some extra time each morning to perfect your hair/makeup, put on your favorite perfumes on days you knew you'd be close to harry, and would even change your outfit completely when going to study with him outside of your school robes to give you a boost of confidence.

not that you needed the boost. lately you could only feel confident in yourself and nothing less. something about learning your life long crush who seemed so unattainable also had feelings for you, and could possibly still, made you feel untouchable. not to mention that any girl you heard talk about him or swoon over him in class just made you laugh to yourself; they had no idea you were with him alone for hours every week goofing off together as he attempted to help you study.

this confidence made its way into other parts of your day outside of harry as well. you were talking more in class, making a few new friends, even going to parties and outings just for the fun of it. you were actually enjoying your time at hogwarts instead of dreading every day. not all because of harry, but it definitely didn't hurt to consider him a friend.

a friend. a professor. an old classmate. a crush. a temporary fixation. your relationship to harry, in your mind, seemed so complicated and sometimes incredibly frustrating. especially when he seemed to flirt with you so subtly. you couldn't stand the, 'is he, isn't he' thoughts. but, at the same time, it just made you more motivated to push the limits to see how he responded.

of course it started with looking good, enjoying his reaction seeing you each day with a small smile and blushing cheeks. then it was making flirtatious jokes and purposefully giving him innocent looks while he rambled about whatever subject to get him flustered and distracted. and, lately, you've stepped it up by wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you stop by his office, and have even caught him looking at your legs a number of times when he thinks you're not paying attention.

all this to say, there was definitely tension.

you had to admit you felt a bit guilty, you knew harry valued his position as a substitute professor and was enjoying his time there, and you would feel awful if anything ever happened to cost him this position. he told you about his crush specifically to alleviate it, and your only goal this semester has been to do the opposite.

but, at the same time, you wouldn't act this way if harry didn't also create tension between you two. he also made overtly flirty jokes and comments, even seeming a tad bit jealous whenever you mentioned another boy during your time together. and you weren't stupid, you could tell when he wore the cologne you complimented one time when you were around or had even changed from his school clothes before you came to see him. there was definitely something unspoken going on between the two of you, but you were both afraid of crossing that line and making things complicated. besides, if anything, you both seemed to enjoy this game you were playing of teasing each other in private and then acting normally during class as student and teacher.

honestly, you found it to be insanely erotic, and were more turned on in class than any other time you were with harry due to the secretive nature of everything. his longing gaze as you walk in, his nervous glances towards specifically you, the shift in his voice from talking to one student to talking to you, it was all so subtle yet in plain view. something about wanting what you can't have only made you want it more.

on this particular day, you had been with harry for over two hours studying for an exam for a class you had been struggling with all semester, even with harry's help. you were frustrated, laying your head in your arms with your textbook in front of you, groaning as harry chuckled at you.

"c'mon, [y/n], you've got this. i mean, you did just fine on this last practice test, better than you have all semester really," harry comments, pulling the paper out of your folder. you lift your head up, giving him a mean look. "i got a 75. barely." you deadpan.

"yes, and that's better than what you have been getting." harry stated, trying to hide a smirk. you throw a crumpled up paper at him. "stop, that's not funny," you whine, also trying to hide your laugh.

chuckling, harry stands up and walks towards the bookshelf in his office. "look, i'm just trying to be encouraging here," he says over his shoulder as he scans the rows of books.

you try to get back to your work, but you're just so utterly confused and upset that you close the book with a huff and lean back in your seat with an exasperated expression. harry hears this and turns to you, giving you a sympathetic smile.

he walks back over, picking up the book in front of you and setting it in your bag. "here, we can be done for today. it's not good to push yourself past your limit."

you sigh as you push back the urge to tear up. "sometimes i just feel so stupid," you say in a soft, despondent voice, staring off into the window across from harry's desk.

harry's watching you intently, and nearly drops to his knees as he crouches beside your chair and catches your eyes in his. "hey, you're not stupid. quite the opposite, actually." he says with a genuine voice. you look away, still not believing him.

"really, [y/n], and i'm not saying this as your professor. back in school i was constantly listening to hermione go on and on about your intelligence and class rank. she was incredibly impressed and slightly envious that someone 2 years below her was actually providing some competition at this school." harry says with a laugh.

you can't help but blush like crazy at this confession. hermione had been your academic inspiration for all of your time at hogwarts, and even still now despite your declining lack of effort. you'd had quite a few conversations with her in the past about classes and certain books or authors you both enjoyed, but had no idea she thought that highly of you.

mulling over this information in your head, harry continued to grab your attention with a soft smile and loving eyes. "you're not stupid. different things are harder for different people. you'll get there, and i'll help you. okay?" he asks.

you smile back at him. "okay."

slowly packing up to leave, you and harry both take your time to gather your supplies as you chat about your respective plans for the weekend. you casually mention a party you were thinking of going to. harry perks up at this. "a party?" he asks, a twinge of concern laced in his voice.

you give him a look. "yeah, ever heard of it?" you ask sarcastically, laughing to yourself. "i guess it's one of the slytherin boys' birthdays, or something like that," you wave off, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "apparently it's going to be massive,"

harry continues looking at you with a hint of concern. "well, just…be safe, yeah?" harry comments, his voice uneasy. you laugh at him again, looking at him incredulously. "yes, professor potter, i'll be careful," you tease him. you know harry gets a little squirmy when you call him that outside of class, and it never fails to make you feel powerful.

"besides, i heard the theme is dress to impress, so you already know i'm gonna look so good," you joke, flipping your hair dramatically. harry's tenseness breaks, letting out a chuckle. "well, still. just…be safe." is all he manages to say as you walk with him to the door.

saying your goodbyes as you separate down the hall, you can still feel harry's eyes on you until you disappear around the corner.

the night of the party, you were still unsure if you wanted to go. when a couple girls from class saw you and asked if you were going, they ended up convincing you to come with them. so, you got changed into a flashy dress that fit you well, fixed up your hair and makeup a bit, and met them in the courtyard to walk to the slytherin common room together. they obsessively commented on your outfit, telling you just how good you looked and letting you know you'd have no problem finding a guy to snog tonight.

but, you don't want any guy tonight. if anything, you were walking slowly through the hallways hoping by some chance that harry would cross your path and see just how good you looked. but you knew you weren't that lucky.

upon arriving at the party, drinks are immediately pushed into your and your friends' hands. they were right about the party being massive, as every square foot of the slytherin common room was packed with slightly tipsy students of all ages dancing to the loud music. you had barely finished your first drink before your friends dragged you over to do shots with them, wincing at the burn it left in your throat afterwards.

as the night goes on, you're eventually separated from all the girls you came with. not on purpose, some of them were playing drinking games, some were dancing, and one had even left the party with a guy she was completely into. no hard feelings, everyone was just doing their own thing. you had a few shouting-over-the-music conversations with a couple classmates and drank another cup of the mysterious alcoholic punch being served before deciding to head back to your room. you informed one of your friends, who asked if you wanted her to come with you, but you insisted she stay.

entering the hallway is extremely sobering. the loud music and colorful lights made it easy to ignore the growing drunken sensation, but you were now nervously navigating the halls of hogwarts, slightly intoxicated, attempting to warm yourself up with your hands over your arms. you hadn't even thought to bring a jacket, of course, so you were shivering as you made your way back to your room.

not long after leaving the party, you turn the corner and come face to face with another person. a boy a year under you, though you couldn't remember his name or anything else about him. you're a bit startled, not expecting to see anyone else, but politely apologize and attempt to walk around him.

"hey. you were at the party, right?" he asks, stepping in front of you to prevent you from leaving. you're slightly annoyed by him already, but your intoxicated state makes you bite your tongue. "yeah, just on my way back to my room," you try to end the conversation there, taking another step to get around him.

but he gets in your way again, stepping even closer to you this time. "what's the rush? y'know you had every guy talkin' in there tonight? sure would be nice to take home the prize," he slurs into your face, your nose scrunching at his alcoholic breath. god, this kid's way more wasted than you.

"excuse me?" you scoff, turning your face away from him. he tries to put his hand on your waist but you slap it away as hard as you can, causing him to wince and give you an angry look. "i suggest you leave me the fuck alone," you announce firmly, stancing your feet apart as you get ready to defend yourself further.

just as this guy's about to try again, this time his hands going for your neck, a voice from down the hall echoes loudly, scaring you both. "hey!"

you both turn, and it's harry.

"i would further suggest you leave her alone, mr. williams," he announces as he swiftly walks towards you. the kid laughs him off. "mind your business, huh, potter? this doesn't involve you," he continues to slur, looking like he wants to fight as harry walks up to him, chest to chest.

"it does now. leave and you'll be lucky i don't have you expelled or rather arrested for sexually assaulting a fellow student on campus grounds after hours, while intoxicated might i add," harry spits at him, his eyes full of disgust and rage.

the kid falters a bit, but the alcohol still has him acting cocky, getting in harry's face. "yeah? or what," he asks daringly.

you get between them and put your wand, hidden in your dress, against the kid's throat, making him stiff with wide eyes. "touch him and i will gladly get expelled for hurting you in ways you couldn't even conceive of in your fucking nightmares. do you understand? get the fuck out of here!" you nearly shout at the kid, causing him to turn and run.

you sigh a breath of relief, but quickly begin to feel the anxiety return as you bring your wand down and look at harry.

you can feel your body shaking with anger and fear, and also shivering from how cold you hadn't realized you'd gotten. your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven, and nearly on the verge of tears. harry's eyes were still angry, but he gave you a sympathetic look. he promptly took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering frame, enveloping you in a hug in the process. it's hard not to let the tears flow just a bit as you rest your head in his chest. you felt so vulnerable with him in that moment.

"here, let's get you back to your room, yeah?" harry says softly, turning your shoulders and guiding you down the hall. you realize you had sobered up during the ordeal, your eyes focusing and walking straightening out as you follow the corridors. once harry begins guiding you down your hallway, you slow to look up at him with a curious expression.

"how do you know where my room is?"

harry's a bit stunned by your question, searching for an answer before you began to think more. "and, wait," you stop walking and turn to him. "how did you even find me?" you ask breathlessly. harry continues to look guilty as he searches for an answer. smirking, you pull his jacket on you closer.

"professor potter, if i didn't know better, i'd say you were watching me tonight," you tease him in a flirty voice. "surely that's not the case, is it?"

harry looks around you two nervously, clearly starting to feel anxious for his actions. all you could do was smirk. you knew he still liked you.

harry sighs, avoiding your eye contact with a completely red face. "look, i just had a bad feeling about that party, okay?" he says simply. you continue to stare at him with a knowing look. "i couldn't sleep tonight knowing something could've happened to you. something like that fucking kid…" harry gets worked up just thinking about it again before stopping himself and calming down. "i'm sorry. it was wrong of me, and completely inappropriate."

your smirk drops into a soft smile. you can't help but feel your stomach erupt into butterflies hearing him admit he was watching you tonight specifically to make sure you were safe.

you softly put your hand to his cheek, causing him to look at you. he looks apologetic, concerned, and sad, his eyes searching yours as he slightly leans into your touch.

"thank you, harry." you say just above a whisper, your voice genuine and loving.

he sighs again, a bit relieved, a bit sad. his hand goes for yours, holding it for just a moment before he gives it back to you, letting go as he looks towards your door.

"well," he starts off, his voice cracking. "i'll leave you here for the night,"

smiling, you nod and take a step towards your door. you slip his jacket off of you and hand it back to him with a grateful, warm smile. he returns the smile as you're opening your door and waving goodbye at him.

as you're getting ready for bed, you replay the events of tonight over and over. you imagine harry watching you leave your room without you having any clue, meeting up with your friends, leaving the party in a daze, attempting to escape that guy before harry decided he had to step in and protect you.

you felt a bit silly for ever thinking harry's crush on you had stopped. even his subtle clues weren't very subtle thinking back now. maybe back in year 5 you assumed you were crazy for thinking he was looking at you funny, but now, nearing 3 years later, and learning he's liked you the whole time, you couldn't deny his longing gaze.

laying in bed, you decided you had to properly thank harry in some way for tonight, and you knew exactly how.

the next day, you paid a special visit to diagon alley with a friend to buy something special for harry. when she asked why you would ever possibly buy something like that for yourself, you make up some story about needing it for a class. she doesn't believe you, but goes along with it anyway and continues to have fun with you on your sunday out shopping.

you head towards his office in the afternoon when he usually spends his time grading assignments and working on the following week's lesson plan. you practically had his schedule memorized after coming to study with him so often.

softly knocking on the door, harry lets out a, "come in,"

you enter the office and he smiles at you immediately before it falters, his eyes then landing on the wrapped box in your hands. "surprise," you say with a shy voice.

he lets out a huff, looking back at you with a disbelieving expression. "[y/n]..." he carries off.

"it's just a little something," you say as you walk towards his desk, setting it down carefully in front of him. "a thank you, for last night," you tell him.

his eyes move back and forth from the box to your eyes, not knowing what to say. a few moments pass before he stands. "[y/n], i can't accept this…" he sighs. "what i did last night, i mean…it shouldn't have happened that way," he says curtly.

you tilt your head to catch his gaze, giving him a warm smile. "you did nothing wrong," you reassure him. you gesture to the gift. "please," you insist.

harry's shoulders relax, giving you an embarrassed smile as he slides the box closer to him, admiring the wrapping. "this is gorgeous, did you do this?" he asks, pointing at the sparkly ribbon and personalized name card. you proudly smile and nod your head.

harry admires it for another moment before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. he gasps at what he sees.

a signed, hardcover, gold leaf detailed first edition defense against the dark arts textbook from his favorite auror. he had talked to you about seeing it at the bookshop but not wanting to spend the money or not having the place to display it or whatever his excuse was. you had taken note of this comment and when you saw it wasn't as expensive as harry had made it seem you knew it was perfect.

"[y/n]...you didn't…" he utters, practically falling back in his chair as he continues to stare at the cover. you giggle fondly at his reaction. "go ahead, open it up," you tell him excitedly. he can hardly move, but he eventually takes the book out of the box and admires it in his hands. he flips the cover open, sees the signature, and smiles. then, he looks at the inside of the cover and his expression drops.

"i had it personalized, if that's okay with you," you ask anxiously. on the inside of the leather bound cover you had a pressing engraved that said 'harry james potter'.

harry's in shock, his fingers running across the pressing softly. "[y/n], this is…" he trails off, continuing to admire the book as he flips through it, landing back on the inside cover, admiring his name once more.

"thank you." harry says, looking at you with so much love in his eyes it makes your heart burst. it was worth every penny seeing him in awe in front of you like this.

"well, thank you," you respond, smiling, holding your arms behind your back.

harry abruptly stands up, stepping around his desk and pulling you in for a desperate hug. you're a bit surprised, your arms wrapping around his waist as he continues to pull you closer and closer.

after a minute or so of the most comforting hug you've experienced outside of last night in that hallway, harry separates from you only slightly to look down at you. your faces are close enough to feel the breath of the other person.

you just want to tell him, 'fuck it, who cares, nobody's here, just kiss me, please, release this tension', but before you can even consider it, harry breaks the silence.

"i still love you," he says so softly, his face wincing as the words fall from his lips. your breath hitches. love?

"fuck," harry mutters, almost stepping away from you until you pull him closer to you, putting your lips close enough to his they're nearly touching. "please. kiss me. just kiss me. please." you practically beg, your hand finding its way to harry's neck.

"[y/n], we can't, i can't–" "just once, please, maybe it'll stop if we just, please…" you interrupt him, hoping he understands what you're implying, your noses rubbing together.

harry takes a few moments before practically whimpering as he connects your lips to his, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you immediately melt into him, letting the kiss consume you as your hands pull harry closer to you.

it only takes a few seconds before harry has you up on his desk, his hands gripping your ass under your skirt. the cold of the wood on your exposed skin makes you gasp, and harry's tongue quickly slips past your lips.

it's everything you imagined, and the fact that this is happening in his office is just making you even more turned on. you had played this scenario in your head so many times, and it hardly felt real once it was actually happening. and on the desk you spent so many hours at, pining over him and fantasizing him taking you like he is right now.

after a few minutes of making out and needy groping through your clothes, harry pulls away breathlessly. opening your eyes you see he's completely flushed, his hair slightly messy as he nervously takes his hands off you.

you awkwardly clear your throat, your hands falling to your sides and resting back on the desk. harry takes a step away, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. you hop off his desk and adjust your skirt.

the silence between you is awkward, but there's just nothing to say. the kiss only left you wanting more, of course, it was pointless to ever hope it would quell your feelings in some way.

"well," harry begins, his voice shaky and quiet. "that didn't work."

you let out a nervous laugh, coughing to cover it up. "yeah…sorry." you mumble.

harry sighs. "no, i'm sorry. i'm technically your superior, i shouldn't be doing this to you. leading you on, flirting with you, for fuck's sake, following you around after hours…"

you shake your head. "look, i'm not kissing professor potter, okay? i like you, harry. i've liked you since i was 13. i don't want to ruin your position here either, and i'll stop if that's what you truly want…" you choke up just a bit before swallowing it back. "but, just, please, stop blaming yourself. i want this, too."

the silence returns, harry clearly thinking over what you said as his eyes stare off beside you. you're anxiously shifting your weight, watching his face get lost in his own thoughts.

"i can't risk this job," harry says finally. "i don't give a shit about the money, pay me everything in the world i would still want you…" he mumbles. you feel your stomach drop at this sentiment. you want him so, so badly. but…

"but…" harry says.

you smile at him sadly, knowing what's coming. "i can't let down bill, or mcgonagall, or any professors or students here who may actually still like me," he says with a dry laugh. "if we ever got caught, and i just know we would, and what would happen to you…i just–" "i know, harry," you interrupt him, taking a small step towards him.

he smiles at you sadly as well. "and i agree. it's not worth it. well, you're worth it, of course…" you say shyly, diverting your gaze before continuing. "but, it's too risky. you deserve to finish out this semester without that hanging over your head, y'know?"

harry stares at you lovingly, no attempt to hide his adoration for you in this moment. "you're truly incredible. you know that?" harry comments softly.

you respond by blushing and crossing your arms. he hums softly, his smile taking over his cheeks. "thank you, really, for everything, if things were any different, i wish…" harry stumbles. you smile at him again. "i know."

harry returns to his gift, admiring the book in his hands over and over before putting it on the bookshelf next to his desk. he admires it there for a while as well before thanking you again.

as you're getting ready to leave, harry stops you for a moment. "if you don't mind, i'd still love to help you in your other classes. and, just, remain friendly in general still, if possible…"

you melt again at his soft demeanor. harry's such a sweetheart it's heartbreaking. all you want is to kiss him again. it's all you've wanted since he stopped.

"of course."

it's the end of the semester, and you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand you're dying for a break from classes. you've done the best you have in years this semester, and it's exhausted you. but you're incredibly grateful, for a lot of things. your new friends, your rediscovered love for hogwarts and magic in general, your overall improved attitude and mentality.

with special thanks to a certain substitute professor…

harry. this semester was definitely a rollercoaster for you when it came to harry. though, towards the end, things fell into place a bit more as you both accepted and embraced your odd, yet effective routine. professional student-professor relationship in public; smitten, teasingly love-sick old classmates in the comfort of his office walls. nothing further than lingering hands, loving stares, and the occasional compliment towing the line of what's inappropriate and what isn't.

though the dynamic wasn't ideal, you grew to love it for what it was. a simple, longing love that wasn't exactly unspoken anymore, but sure felt like it each passing day as you both pretended that kiss never happened.

that kiss. you swear you think about it every day. you long for harry to grab you like that again, to slip his tongue past your lips again…sometimes, late at night, it's all you can think about. sometimes just the thought of it makes you need to touch yourself, remembering how desperate he was for you, the feeling of his lips on yours, sitting on his desk in his office, just the image of it from outside of your own perspective could bring you to your orgasm alone in your room.

to say you were anxiously counting down the days until classes were over and harry technically wasn't employed with hogwarts anymore was an understatement. though you hadn't spoken about it with him, you felt it was okay to maybe consider that he would want to continue things further with you once his substitution was over. you kept your guard up as you knew he could still be uncomfortable with it while you were a student in general. but a large portion of you was practically praying that wasn't the case. you physically couldn't resist him much longer.

you were staying on campus for christmas this year, mostly just to savor your last holiday here, but also to continue seeing harry if possible.

it was the last day of classes, and you learned you passed all your exams with flying colors. you showed up to dark arts class early to inform harry excitedly, and he congratulated you with the same level of excitement.

"i knew you could do it! i told you you were smart." he beams. "i am so, so proud of you, [y/n]."

you want to hug him so badly, he's helped you so much this semester, you wouldn't have cared enough to try and get these kinds of grades without his guidance. but it's too public, and the risk is too high, so you just settle on an awkward high five and laugh emptily.

as other students walk in, you both pretend the moment never happened, and you sit in your seat without looking up from the floor.

the class is simple and rather uneventful as it's mostly everyone's last class of the semester. harry actually hands out christmas cookies hagrid made for everyone, and they're mediocre in taste, but the designs are so adorable you can't resist finishing it.

harry gives you all a speech thanking the class for trusting him to teach this semester, and for being respectful of him and professor weasley's lessons. he talks about how he's always thought about being a professor, but actually ended up despising the paperwork, and just missed his old job, which caused the class to chuckle with him.

he dismissed everyone with a happy christmas, specifically towards you, of course.

your heart aches a little as you leave the classroom and head to your room. you're going to miss harry as a professor, even if it caused complications in other aspects, it was inspiring to see him be so intelligent, helpful, and supportive in class. of course you were biased, you always found him to be amazing, but something about watching him teach a young wizard how to do a spell correctly for the first time just made you admire him so deeply.

you decided to rest for the night, knowing harry would be here for at least another day to collect all his items and clean the classroom up for professor weasley. you could talk to him then, what exactly about you weren't sure just yet, but you knew you had to tie up these loose ends before they drove you mad.

the next afternoon, you're practically one of the only students roaming the halls. most everyone leaves the first day of break to go home, and by christmas there's only a handful of students left.

arriving at harry's office door, you admire it one last time. your little sanctuary away from the world.

you knock, but to your dismay, there's no answer.

you knock again, a bit louder, but still, nothing. you decide to peak in, and notice how barren the desk looks from afar.

fuck. there's no way harry's left without speaking to you first.

you quickly walk to the dark arts classroom just down the hall, hoping he's cleaning and organizing it, but find it empty and dark. your heart sinks. he's gone.

you slowly walk back to your room, deciding you'll grab your coat and visit hagrid to see if harry's with him there. you try not to let your disappointment overcome you, there's still a chance you could talk to him…

entering your room, you immediately head for your coat rack by the window. you start to slip it on when you hear your door close, knowing you left it open on purpose to quickly leave.

you turn around, and it's harry.

you gasp, immediately dropping the coat and running to him, jumping into a hug. he laughs at your reaction, but embraces you nonetheless.

"hi, love," he says softly, resting his head on top of yours. you could hardly contain yourself at the pet name. it communicated so much to you with so little effort.

you look up at him, barely able to believe what's happening. harry looks at you knowingly. this unspoken tension. it was going to be the death of you.

as harry begins leaning in, you crash your lips together with his, immediately engulfing him into a heated, wanting, needing kiss.

harry's more than happy to give in to you. it's clear he's thought about this just as much as you have. he finished all his professor duties as soon as he could so he could officially, finally, be yours.

you guide harry to your bed, pushing him onto it as he gives you an impressed look, clearly intrigued by your repressed desperation.

you crawl onto his lap, immediately pulling him back into the kiss. harry's hands are all over you, finally, after fantasizing about it every night in this very same bed for months.

the kiss is desperate, full of moaning and getting sloppier by the minute. harry's squeezing and slapping your ass so hard you whimper in his arms, your hands gripping his button up tightly.

"fuck, [y/n], need you so bad, please," harry moans into your kiss, his hands sliding up your back. you reach to take your shirt off, left in just a bra and tiny skirt, as you start untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

harry's staring at you with hunger in his eyes. "do you even understand how badly i've wanted you? you and these fucking skirts, you must think i'm stupid." he growls, pulling at the hem of your skirt. you blush and stifle a giggle, overwhelmed with how insanely hot you found this to be.

"think that's funny? you think it was funny when i had to stand in class all day and not stare at your perfect legs through your robe? anytime i gave a lecture and just looking at you turned you into a needy slut," harry grabs your hair, turning your attention to him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt with his other hand. "was that fun for you, hm? did you enjoy teasing me all semester?"

you can't say anything. all you can do is nod. you were so turned on you could hardly think straight.

"i bet it was," he says, examining your desperate expression, his words dripping with desire.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and you help him take off his shirt. his skin was warm, soft, and his shoulders were broad. you moved your lips to his neck, leaving an obvious bite just below his collar to finally mark what was yours.

harry groans, his hands reaching behind your back to swiftly undo your bra. he helps pull it off of you, marveling at your chest. "beautiful," he tells you before attaching his lips to your skin. you hold his head against you, savoring the feeling and sight of harry leaving hickeys along the soft skin of your boobs.

his hand cups one softly as his tongue circles your nipple, watching you through his glasses as you melt into his hands. "harry…" you moan, your hand running through his soft hair.

he continues, starting to suck on your nipple softly with closed eyes, his other hand pulling up your skirt to feel your wetness through your panties.

you immediately whimper and lean into harry's touch, desperate for this for so long. "f-fuck," you stutter breathlessly.

harry smiles, taking his lips off of you to look up at your blushing face. "so wet already," he smirks.

you cover his face with your hands, embarrassed, giggling, continuing to further lean into his hand for pleasure.

he laughs and removes your hands, his eyes full of lust just looking at you in his lap.

"i need you, now," he insists, pushing you further onto his growing erection through his slacks. you let out a breathy moan feeling just how hard he is already. he's just as desperate as you've been for him.

"is that okay?" he asks carefully, watching for your reaction. you laugh a bit. "please. i've waited long enough." you joke.

you help harry take his pants and boxers off, as well as your skirt and panties, leaving you both naked in your room.

he sat back down on the bed, and invited you into his lap again. "just like this is perfect," he says, guiding your hips and admiring your body as you sit with his cock between you two, your eyes barely able to look away from it.

harry pulls you in for a kiss, his hands traveling over your body and stopping at your pussy again, his hand feeling just how wet you are. he moans into your kiss along with you and begins to slip his fingers inside of you, slowly, letting you react to him.

harry pushes further and further into you until you're practically riding his hand, your kiss barely kept together with you bouncing, desperate for more. "please," you insist, your hand gently grasping for his precum soaked cock.

harry smiles, gently pulling his fingers away before letting you guide yourself onto him. slowly at first, you enjoy the feeling of harry's cock stretching you open, whimpering as he watches you intently, his hands supporting your hips. eventually you feel yourself take him completely, your hips flush with his as you start to slowly grind your hips up and down.

harry's a mess, barely able to hold himself together just watching you adjust to his cock. your face twisting in pleasure, your soft whimpers, the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, it was almost too much already.

"fuck, baby," harry's moaning, his hands gripping your hips for sanity. you can't help but giggle, you just love seeing him like this for you after dreaming about it for so long. he's so lost in pleasure already, his jaw slack and eyes dropping.

"i-i'm already, fuck [y/n], you're just so," harry can barely get the words out. hearing him moan your name so filthily motivated you to move your hips quicker, letting your tits bounce in his face as you continued to pick up speed.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's panicking, you can tell he's already trying to hold back his orgasm. you find it extremely hot just how quickly you can bring him to this point. so hot it brings you closer to your orgasm with him, putting your hands on his face to look up at you.

"you feel so fucking good, harry," you tell him, your head rolling back in pleasure. he's in awe of you, his eyes memorizing every single inch of you as you continue to ride him.

"please, please, can you, um…" he takes a second between his words to moan. "please, can you call me professor potter…" he asks, clearly embarrassed by the request.

you rub his blushing cheeks between your hands, his question only making you more turned on. you loved knowing he was just as into the teacher/student dynamic as you had been.

"your cock feels so…so fucking good inside of me, professor potter," you moan, resting your forehead against harry's as you slow your pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him.

harry's eyes roll back, sinful moans escaping his lips as his head falls forward, watching you ride him slowly as he begins slightly thrusting up into you. he looks back up at your eyes, exasperated. "i'm gonna cum if you don't stop," he quietly warns you, clearly feeling a bit guilty at his eagerness.

you smile. "please, please cum for me professor. i've been such a good girl for you this semester, haven't i?" you tease him.

harry groans pathetically. "so, so good," his eyes are closed, his face twisting with each thrust. "then cum for me, please, give it to me," you beg him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your stomach tensing from your own orgasm.

harry's eyes pop open, his gaze on you softening as his hands find your waist, gripping onto you desperately. "[y/n]..." he moans your name again, and you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. your pace becomes a bit slower as your legs start shaking.

harry moans as he starts to spill inside of you, the warm sensation fueling your orgasm as you both hold onto each other tightly, riding out your highs together.

after a few moments of slow grinding and weak kissing, you carefully stand up from your position on harry's lap. you guide him to your bathroom, where you help each other clean up, with a few more inevitable kisses and longing hugs along the way.

you get dressed into different clothes, and offer harry some as well. he declines, instead putting his clothes back on as he tells you he has to bring all his supplies back to his house.

you help him button his shirt back up and tie his tie before pushing yourself to ask the dreaded question you didn't want to know the answer to.

"so," you say softly. "what now?"

harry looks down at you lovingly, but he isn't quite smiling. "well, i'm no longer employed here," he states. you nod your head slowly, allowing him to continue.

"so, while it's not technically wrong, i'd still like to try and take this off campus, if possible," harry chuckles.

you give him a surprised look. "you want to see me again?" you ask quietly. harry can't help but laugh at you, kissing your forehead as he holds your cheek.

"you have no idea," is all he says before he leans in for another kiss, holding you close, knowing you're finally his.

574 notes · View notes

jeonjcngkook · 1 year

Text

motor head | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre(s)&au(s): motorcyclist!jungkook, situationship / friends-with-benefits, angst, smut, pwp rating: 18+ word count: 10.2k+ warning(s)&smut warning(s): they r a little toxic w each other btw ! possessive jaykay n jealous jaykay bcs he literally cant see you around other men !!!! QATAR JAYKAY W LONG CURLY HAIR ALL IN HIS EYES LIKE PRINCE CHARMING 🤤, tattoos !!!! all out !!!!!! — thats a warning on its own :)))) - i may have also given him a giant rib tattoo bcs i hate myself that much 🤭 jaykay rides a motorcycle just in case u havent already guessed 🥲😲, biggest cawk jaykay, dirty talkinnn’, size kink bigger than his muscles !! he uses his motorcycle as a giant sex toy 🤲🏻🫠, clit play while driving, rough kisses, love bites, rough oral sex (m rec), face fucking (f rec), thigh riding & dry humping, vaginal fingering (f rec), anal fingering (f rec), spitting on her face n spitting on her ass, 💦💦, 👉🏻 degradation kink & praise kink 👈🏻, vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex on top of a motorbike, multiple orgasms, power play sksksk, jealousy sex (????? ye kinda), orgasm denial(s), creampie. summary: jungkook doesn't like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it. beta(s): @jeonspub & @pjmparadise banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics

A hand fists into the back of your tank top and pulls you upright from your bent position. Looking behind you, you come eye-to-eye with Jungkook who looks like he reached his final limit with you. Seeing red, he is quick to push the man out from behind you, watching as his body struggles to keep himself standing at the force.

“Jaykay, what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?” The orange haired man you know as Jimin asks. “The little lady is just having some fun, don’t be such a spoil sport,” he jests — clearly loving the agitated reaction he is getting from Jungkook if the snarky grin on his face is anything to go by.

Jimin reaches out for you once more and drags you back towards him. He presses your back into the warmth of his chest, legs parting to accommodate you against him as one of his hands rests on your hip and the other on your thigh. You swallow when something hard presses into your ass and you fidget against it, hearing Jimin moan against your neck.

You watch on as Jungkook’s expression changes from pissed off to full blown rage within a blink of an eye.

Between you and Jungkook, things are complicated to say the absolute least. You have a past behind you as the girlfriend of a neighbouring rival gang that go against Jungkook and the rowdy crowd he hangs with. It started with sneaking around with each other behind your then boyfriends back before you took the plunge and found yourself with Jungkook indefinitely.

But things between you both aren’t as easy as it seems. Yes, you had left your boyfriend for Jungkook, but you and Jungkook had never made it official with each other.

To put it bluntly; you left your relationship with your ex for a situationship with the city’s notorious bad boy. Plainly put, you’re still single.

You laugh lightly as Jimin taunts Jungkook. You aren’t friends with any of these guys, having only met them twice before. You aren’t stupid, you can spot a hot guy when you see one and Jungkook’s so-called best friend Jimin was exactly that.

Like mentioned, you are single after all.

You tilt your head to the side to let Jimin place small kisses on your neck; both of you watching for Jungkook’s reaction. Within the snap of your fingers, Jungkook is ripping you out of the grasp of Jimin and pulling you into his arms. “She’s coming with me.”

Jungkook looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to move in the direction of his motorcycle. His heavy black boots kick the stones from under his feet as he nears his motorised vehicle, leaving space for you to hop on eventually; however, you don’t move.

“Maybe I want to stay with Jimin,” you taunt, knowing just how to push his buttons.

You watch as Jungkook rolls his eyes, pissed off and annoyed at your bothersome behaviour tonight, unsure as to what or why you’ve decided that tonight of all nights you want to wind him up.

“____, you’re testing my fucking patience. Get on the bike.”

Staying still, you keep yourself standing between the two men. You look back towards Jimin, who looks to be enjoying the scene in front of him — Jungkook tends to get what he wants when he wants, so watching you not give him that makes Jimin snicker.

The sound of Jungkook’s motorcycle comes to life as he presses into the throttle lever as far as it possibly goes, a roar of the engine tearing through the cloudy night.

You turn around to find Jungkook with his helmet over his head, leather gloves adorning his fingers as the wheels on his bike move against the gravel.

“W-wait! Jungkook, wait!”

The engine dulls down as you walk towards him. Jungkook passes you over the spare helmet he reserves for you when you ride with him as you easily slide it past your hair.You don’t need to see his face to know that he has the victory smirk on his face. Lifting your leg over the carbon fibre of the bike, you manage to slot yourself between Jungkook and the glass window at the front.

Once again, Jungkook presses into the throttle and the bike engine rumbles beneath you both as he navigates the vehicle out of the lot, leaving everyone else behind.

It’s been fifteen minutes of silence between you both. Nobody dares to say anything through the intercom. In those fifteen minutes though, you’ve managed to slide into a dangerous position as Jungkook steers you both down narrow streets. The motorbike vibrates at the base just below the seat and you can’t help but feel every single part of it.

You moan out loud into the intercom in your helmet, not trying to hide the pleasure that suddenly rakes through you. Deep vibrations from the hard metallic cylinders below the carbon fibre body rattle your body as Jungkook adjusts your position on the bike.

His palm applies enough pressure to push your body down, watching as your back straightens out as your chin lies against the frame of the motorcycle, giving Jungkook a clear view of the road in front of him. In your new position, you slide yourself back into Jungkook’s crotch, meeting the leather material of Jungkook’s pants and in turn trapping you in between his hard psyche and the body of the machine beneath you.

Jungkook is still in full control of the motorcycle. He presses the throttle and ups the motorbike into a higher gear. Feeling the wind pick up as you zigzag through the highway, watching as the streetlights illuminate the wet asphalt before they threaten to dim into full darkness.

The vibrations between your legs get stronger as Jungkook revs the engine, picking up speed and knowing exactly what reaction he is spurring out of you. You hear a small laugh from Jungkook, and it’s almost torturous, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

From behind you, you can feel his eyes watching you as your legs try to close themselves to alleviate the throbbing in your core but you come up short, having the metal of the motorcycle come in between. You grind your ass further into Jungkook; feeling his cock harden at your movements.

Without thinking, you rub yourself further into the luxury Italian leather of the seat, chasing the vibrations as your pussy overflows with your own lust. You want nothing more right now than to trace your fingers past the hem of your leggings to peel away the lace that is now fully sticking to your folds uncomfortably from your arousal.

“Give me your hand.”

Removing his hand from the handlebars, Jungkook finds your wrist and wraps your fist around the rubber handle. “Press down on the throttle,” he instructs, voice stone cold and laced in confidence. You do as you're told, letting your fingers grip the lever, pressing down until it doesn’t go any further.

Behind you, Jungkook adjusts himself, fighting against your own movements; a deep gritty growl vibrating from his chest, almost mimicking the engine of his Kawasaki Ninja H2R bike. Your eyes widen in surprise when you feel something thick and hard pressing against your ass. Your cheeks warm at the realisation, your lips parting as he purposely pulls you further into him.

Jungkook’s now free hand slithers under your arm and past your clothing to place it on your hip. Your hands begin to gather sweat as he massages the skin almost comfortingly — but you know better… especially after the environment he has just pulled you out of.

“J-Jungkook, isn’t this dangerous?” you stutter nervously as your heart rate picks up. You feel Jungkook sit up a little straighter from behind you, one arm still holding onto the brake lever.

His fingertips run along the band of your leggings teasingly before his fingers dip underneath the cotton band. You can’t help but spread your legs wider on either side of the body, an instinct that has been scorned into your mind. A silent plea for Jungkook to move his hands further down. To cup your wet pussy and slide his fingers inside. To finger fucking you on the highway under the glittering city lights just to eliminate your lustfulness.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your arousal leaks further into your dampened thong.

“Jungkook?”

Ignoring you altogether, you feel three fingers press into the material of your underwear. The motorcycle below you shakes as you struggle to concentrate on the road. Jungkook’s hand finds your clit easily and begins to rub soft and slow circles. He switches the direction of his fingers, leaving you on the edge, never knowing what next he’s going to do.

“Why are you so wet, darling? Was it me or was it Jimin that got you so dirty?” He goads through the intercom — the first thing he has said to you since leaving the parking lot.

At the accusation towards Jimin, your blood runs cold. It definitely wasn’t Jimin but Jungkook had some audacity to even ask when he’s three fingers against your clit.

“We aren’t doing this if you’re going to assume like a dick.”

Your hand finds his wrist as you grab at it, keeping him in place to continue playing with your pussy. You lick your lips as his fingers peel past your thong, sliding them up and down your slit to coat his fingers in your cum before sinking two of them inside of you, instantly knuckle deep.

Your cunt clenches around his digits as your mind goes dizzy with desire.

Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you, feeling the heat in between your legs before he inches his fingers back inside. A rhythm of steading thrusting starts, making sure to curl them up when his knuckles meet your clit.

“I don’t think we — shit — we should do this. It’s — fuck — so dangerous.”

Jungkook is still able to navigate you around the city with one hand with your help but as the pleasure and lust courses through you from his fingers, it makes you dizzy, losing your vision on the road slightly.

“Want me to stop, darling?” Jungkook purrs into the built-in microphone.

The way his fingers fuck into you is deliriously fucking good. He knows how to reduce you to nothing but a whimpering mess for him in so many ways. You don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

And Jungkook knows. He always knows.

It’s like he can read your thoughts and leaves you hanging by a thread as he rips his hands away from your sodden core; pulling you away from any sort of pleasurable burst that was about to wash over your body any minute now.

The gasp that you exhale echoes through both of your bluetooth speakers is ear pinching as you try to come to terms with Jungkook denying you your opportunity to come. It leaves your eyes watering, pussy fluttering against nothing.

“What the fuck was that?” You pant, and a deep growl of dissatisfaction blends into your words spitefully.

The motorcycle slows down to a stop as it reaches its ending destination. Jungkook removes the keys to the garage from his pocket, clicking the buttons to open the entrance to his workshop.

The sounds of a heavy metal garage door thunders in your ears as you’re driven into the main area of the repair store. You watch as Jungkook’s leaden black leather boot wiggles under the motorcycle against the bottom of the bike to pull the kickstand out to allow it to stand on its own.

He is the first one to remove himself from the motorcycle, opting to run his hands through his now helmet messed hair. You follow his lead and will yourself to lift your leg over to the other side. It’s difficult to stand with the shake in your body. You’re unsure if it’s the adrenaline coursing through you or the lingering arousal you endured from the heavy vibrations.

Once you’re off the bike, you watch Jungkook off to the other side, pacing back and forth. He looks like he is having an internal battle with himself, so deep in thought that he may as well have forgotten you are there with him.

A distressed pair of leather pants hug tightly at Jungkook’s thighs, perfectly snug against the muscle underneath — all sorts of thoughts running through your mind at just how delicious his legs look in the material. It’s sinful and fucking mouth-watering.

Made from soft black leather, his jacket has a number of badges stitched securely onto the front and sleeves. With added stripes in sanguine red and olive green, the overall look of the jacket contrasts well against the black leather. To give it a more classic ‘biker look’, Jungkook has gone as far to wax the leather material to create a more vintage, edgy worn out effect.

Jungkook catches you staring at him as he unzips the top coat, revealing a sleeveless navy blue ribbed sweater-like shirt under the classic looking jacket. Throwing the leather over his shoulder, it lands in a heap behind him and you can’t help but watch as it falls heavily on the grimy concrete floor.

But what catches your eye is the arm covered fingers to shoulder in tattoos — not a dribble of skin left untouched, and you feel yourself itching to run your fingers over the words, patterns and shapes. You swallow hard as you watch as he crosses his arms over his chest. Your eyes land centre to his bicep; the colours within the intricate artworks being put to more good use as they show off every single tight muscle in his flexed arm.

With all the effort you are able to conjure, you’re able to rip your attention away from his body, but not fast enough as you look up to see Jungkook smirking.

“What are you playing at?”

Either Jungkook doesn't hear you or he’s heard you perfectly clear and he is doing everything he can to completely ignore you. And judging by the raise of his eyebrow piercing which catches in the night light like stardust and the light scoff that you hear, it’s the latter. Typical Jungkook.

This isn’t something you’re not used to. The push and pull between the both of you is scornful. Filled with aggression and fiery delight. It’s sickening yet all too consuming at the same time. It’s every reason why you find yourself unable to stay away from him, and vice versa.

Your eyes scan around the workbench in the repair store, striking gold as you find a tape measure underneath piles of tools and equipment.

“I’m talking to you,” you throw the measuring tape at his back to grab his attention. Your words are comparable to a snake spitting at its prey — filled with poison and ready to fight.

Your back is pressed against the adjacent wall, shortly followed by a pair of plush lips pressed against your own. The breath is knocked from your lungs and you’re unsure if it’s from being herded against the wall so abruptly or having Jungkook steal the air from such a bruising and breathtaking kiss. Either way, you hum in venomous delight as you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slither past your teeth and entangle with your own.

With one hand pressed against the wall next to your head and the other holding you still by the waist, you find yourself enjoying every moment of the dominance spilling from the man in front of you.

You reach your hands to his waist to roam underneath his ribbed crewneck style tank top, gripping the material in your hands and pushing it up and over his head. You take in his body. Completely bare for you — another tattoo etched into his beautiful skin. A Japanese traditional dragon. You see the tail starting at his hip as the body is drawn with pristine lines and dotwork all the way up his ribcage.

Wisdom, bravery and strength — traits both the dragon tattoo and Jungkook behold and symbolise. Although, his wisdom seems to vacate the second it comes to you.

You continue to take in the full sight of him. His torso is lean, and his chest and shoulders are broad and incredibly built. You have never seen anybody like him — and you doubt you’ll find anyone like him again. Healed scars, old abrasions, and bruises cover his chest and ribs and your fingertips gently travel upwards until they meet the tender marks.

His skin looks almost soft as the only format of light from the dim lamps and moonlight outside illuminates against his form. A hiss leaves his lips as you run your hands up and down his flesh, watching his eyes close tight.

“We could have got hurt,” you whisper, the words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook doesn’t want to think about his past battles in war — not right now.

Jungkook manages to slot his leather clad thigh in between your thighs, prying your legs to open wider for him. Your leggings only did so much to conceal your arousal, yet it didn't help that there is a dampened spot in the middle of the fabric;thankfully, he can’t feel it through his own pants, yet.

“You already hurt me, _____.”

You can barely recover from the intrusion of his thigh as you lift your head, looking at Jungkook dead in the eyes as they glare down at you, dark and filled with arousal of his own.

The garage is dark and dingy looking. The smell of oil, gasoline and sweat roaming around the room. It’s somewhat fitting to the man in front of you right now. Yet as his eyes darken and you’re only now taking in your surroundings, a shiver rakes through your body.

Jungkook presses himself further into you with his thigh, watching the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, a loud moan you are unable to suppress is loud and clearly heard by you both.

“W-what do you mean?” Like before, Jungkook’s gloved hand finds the waistband of your leggings once more, playfully grabbing at the elastic before taking the material back and letting it snap against your skin gently. With his free hand, he travels up your tummy, the feeling of your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertip brings him a sensation of delight. He brings it further up your body to skin over your clothed tits, squeezing over the lace as he grinds his thigh further into your cunt.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Jungkook’s eyes are stone, piercing through you entirely.

Your nipples harden at his movements, eyes rolling back into the back of your skull as you try your utmost best to keep your breathing steady and under control. It’s increasingly hard to do so when Jungkook flexes his quadriceps, giving you hard muscle to drag your aching, leaking pussy over.

“With Jimin.” His hand withdraws from your body, keeping you in place with his thigh as he straightens himself back to full height, only adding to his dominant aura. It makes you feel small underneath him.

A tear is heard throughout the small room and a chill suddenly finds its way creeping up your body. You look down in horror to find the thin material of your vest has been torn in half right down the middle. Your eyes quickly find Jungkook so you can demand why but before the chance finds itself, leather is skimming the skin of your neck until it finds you by the throat. His fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck just enough to slow down your breathing, a silent warning to not say a word.

“You went against what I told you today, didn’t you?” Jungkook is the first to cut through the silence with a rhetorical question, in his honeyed voice.

You have a habit of talking back to Jungkook, never liking not having the last say in your tiffs. You open your mouth to answer but once more Jungkook is quicker in thinking, knowing you far too well, and adds a little more pressure to the side of your neck. You can’t help but groan in near delight as the light headed feeling begins to crawl up on you ever so slowly but not before you manage to get some words out. “Did I?

Jungkook remains still. His eyes boring straight into your own as if challenging you to talk back to him once more.

Nothing. Silence.

The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing between the both of you and all you do is let out a snort of laughter, as if this whole time it’s just a game.

“I just wanted to join in with you and the boys,” you say once more through gritted teeth. “It isn’t my fault Jimin fucking likes me, is it?”

“I don’t think Jimin ‘fucking liking you’ is the issue we have here, sweetheart. Letting him grind his cock against your ass in front of me and my boys is the problem we have.”

It didn’t matter how hard Jungkook’s hand was wrapped around your throat, the laugh that you let out was audible enough to taunt Jungkook. This was dangerous. You are in a small space filled with oils and gasoline tanks that in a single moment threatens to blow up if you keep playing with the fire inside Jungkook.

“You should have been the one to take me out on your bike then, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.” You lower yourself further onto his thigh, using your lower back to rest on the cold wall behind you. With everything in you, you use it to your advantage to keep you in your sitting position, essentially sitting on Jungkook’s thigh as you begin to press down harder, moving your hips back and forth to fuck yourself on him.

“Things may have gotten a little out of hand when he was showing me his bike,” you slide the straps of your bra off of your shoulders to pull the cups down and let your tits spill out. You feel the fingers on your throat loosen lightly, Jungkook’s eyes flickering down as he watches you grope your tits in your hands yourself this time. “He may have bent me over it a little too much and he may have pressed himself against me a little too hard when showing me the paintwork; but when was any of this my problem?”

No response comes from Jungkook. Instead, his grip on your neck falls completely in turn for slapping your hands out of the way to fist your boobs in his leather fists himself, watching as the skin peeks through the spaces of his fingers. The feeling of air returning to your body spurs you on further, gives you a newfound energy that you use to fuck yourself with. You’re so desperate to come that the pace of you riding his thigh increases, pleasure shoots up your spine and you let out a cry of arousal, your body is so wired it feels like your clit is making direct contact to his cock on every stoke.

In fact, Jungkook does nothing to stop you from chasing your high — what's strange is that he starts to encourage you to use him to get yourself off. He lifts his leg higher and further into you, flexing his thigh as tight as possible as he plants his hands on either side of your waist to help guide you, pushing and pulling you with both hands.

“Jungkook, kiss me,” you plead, voice light.

“No.”

Your eyes snap open at his denial to your request. He has never denied you a kiss before. Jungkook loves making out with you so this is brand new territory for you to be in and you’re unsure if you’re enjoying the answer. You don’t have the option to ask why before you get your answer.

“Don’t deserve it.”

Your eyes become glassy as little tears fill your eyes. Not because of Jungkook’s rejection, well, a little because of that, but because he fucking smirks as he tells you no and continues to pulls you harder into him.

Jungkook leans down towards your mouth and you follow him, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours, thinking he was just playing games with his previous refusal. But at the last possible second, he twists his face away from yours until his lips are grazing against your earlobe, grunts of pleasure and warm breathing warming your skin.

“I fucking love how wet you get for me,” Jungkook croons as he takes your earlobe in between his teeth and grazes it lightly. “I’ll kiss you when you’ve come.”

You jerk your hips erratically against his thigh faster and faster, your climax in fucking sight. “Jungkook, it would have felt so good to have you bending me down on top of the motorcycle instead,” you start, words etching a repetive image in Jungkook’s mind of you and Jimin once again. “To feel your arms around me. Your weight on top of me, your cock hard and heavy against me —, " you moan, continuing to grind against him, watching how Jungkook twitches and swells under the leather of his pants.

This time it’s Jungkook’s turn to groan, trying to angle his body in a way that his cock is beneath you, to have you aide both yourself and Jungkook at the same time, but to his dismay he can’t find it; the material not being too kind in stretching enough for him.

Your breathing becomes stuttered as a string of swear words leaves your lips as your orgasm washes over you. And as promised, Jungkook finds your jaw in his hand and brings your face up to meet his own before crashing his soft cherry red lips against your own.

He kisses you deeply with soft lips and a wet tongue that presses into the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Your lips part obediently as you glide your tongue against his own. The taste of desperation and lustful desire on the tip of both of your tongues and you can’t help but moan softly, so saccharine sweetly for him.

In between the kiss, you feel a large hand at the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair as they tug at the root to pull you away from his mouth. Jungkook’s rougher nature starts to make an appearance and you can’t help but squirm in anticipation of what is to follow. The thoughts of him pinning you down just like you had asked in the midst of your pleasure moments ago swirls in your mind, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.

“If I had been anywhere near you earlier then I wouldn’t have been able to fucking stop myself from being the one to bend you over, waist down against my own bike just to fuck you hard and rough in plain sight of everyone around us.”

A puddle forms in your mouth at his words; unable to swallow as you picture the image in your mind of Jungkook doing exactly that with a crowd around you. You know he has a vouyeristic nature and a tendency to participate in exhibitionism but knowing he would go as far as too fuck you in front of a group of his friends, strangers to you, sets your body ablaze.

A fresh wave of arousal pools in your already soaked underwear as you muster up the courage to move around his thigh once more. But unluckily for you, Jungkook removes his thigh from between your legs and gives you a dry humourless laugh as he sees you trying to put the imagery in your mind.

“I can’t believe you’d fucking let me do that. Look at yourself — it’s pathetic.”

“I didn’t say I would let you do that.” Jungkook raises his tattoo arm and lands it on the wall behind him, keeping the other side free, knowing that if you wanted to leave, you would take the exit.

“You didn’t have to say anything. I can read it all over your body. Why else did you end up getting on the back of my motorcycle again tonight? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for a night cruise… not with me.”

You swallow hard as Jungkook bends down again so he’s face to face with you.

“Your mouth is watering for me. Your heart is pounding and I can fucking feel it. And now, the lower I get,” he stops to lick at the ring at the corner of his mouth and your eyes flit down to watch as he does. Watching as his tongue runs along his lower lip, wetting it as he goes before his tongue slithers back into his mouth and protrudes at the corners. “I can feel the desperation clinging to you for me to kiss you right now. Slow. Hard. Passionate. My tongue running down your neck. Taking in the smell of your arousal,” he punctuates his words by letting his palm squeeze at your tit again and sliding his hands down over your bare ribs.

Your eyes flutter shut as your hand firmly grips his wrist. Jungkook stops his movements, waiting for you to stop what’s going on between the two of you. But it never comes. Instead, you tighten your grip on his wrist and begin to slither it towards the elastic of your bottoms once again.

“Then what?” You moan, anticipating his next movement.

It’s clear to see that Jungkook is just as affected by this as you are. The deep movement in his Adams Apple suggesting he is swallowing hard to keep himself under control gives it away.

“Then I’d slid my fingers right under here,” and he does but goes no further than the lace hem of your underwear, “I’d make you come first around my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then on my fucking cock,” he whispers the last part as he presses himself into you, making you feel just how aroused is his. His cock, thick and hard against your pelvis. “Fast, hard, rough sex that you know deep down you’re craving from me right now.”

His fingers stop rubbing against your skin, forcing you to look up to find him with his eyes closed and jaw clenched together. “Too bad I’m not going to be the one to give it to you… Go ask Jimin, he seemed up for it.” The last sentence is said with spite as if the name of his best friend is nothing but searing poison dripping from his own tongue.

Stunned into silence, you roll your eyes. Of course this is still about Jimin. “Fuck you.”

Though his back is turned to you, you watch as Jungkook stops in his stride and opts for twisting his neck from side to side — cracking of his bones heard in the eerie quiet. You can’t see his expression but you know you’ve possibly overstepped the mark but right now, you can’t see anything other than blind vicious venom for the man in front of you.

“What did you say to me?”

Ignoring the warning bells that ring and rattle in your head over and over, you tell yourself you need to do this.

“You heard exactly what I said. You’re so caught up in your own messed up thoughts that you can’t see that I’m standing here right in front of you. I’ve always been right in front of you. You fuck me when you please but then you’re so quick to toss me away the second something so miniscule gets too hard for you to deal with. You pick me up just to throw me away like an old toy a child doesn’t want anymore. I’m not yours to just use and tear apart when you want. You don’t care about those around you enough to think about the repercussions of your shitty actions. So fuck you.”

You toss your head back in relief that you have finally been able to lift the dead weight off of your shoulders. If this is how you and Jungkook will end, then at least you did it with your pride intact standing up for yourself. You let out a deep breath as you try to zip up your jacket to cover your torn clothes.

With your head down in concentration, you’re unaware that Jungkook has come back and reaches for both your wrists, pinning them against the wall above your head, and he doesn’t look happy. His eyes are narrowed, glaring into you as if he can see through you, burning holes straight into the granite behind you. His jaw is flexed, shut tight, and his nose is scrunched up at the tip — not in the way you’ve come to love, but in a way that carries fear.

“Well if you aren’t mine, then who is it you belong too, huh?”

“That’s not what I mea-.”

Your sentence is cut off as his lips crash against yours hard. His teeth instantly pull on your lower lip to allow himself the satisfaction of tangling his tongue with your own. The kiss is passionate, filled with loathing and untold love for the other. Your eyes shut slowly into the kiss as you fight your wrists out of his hold in favour of wrapping them around his neck and pulling him against you forcefully.

You tug at the roots of Jungkook’s hair, breaking the kiss and watching as saliva connects your lips to his still. Your own body shivers as you take in the state of his hair dishevelled from your tugging and the motions of his chest rising and falling over and over in quick paces from being out of breath with just one kiss.

“Tell me. Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”

One more tug at his hair and you regain your fight. “You have no right to think I belong to you. Not anymore.”

“You like it when I do though, don’t try and fight what you already know to be true,” Jungkook answers, his voice low and gravelly.

Once again, Jungkook’s mouth is back on you with fiery desire. Teeth and tongue clash against each other in the fight for dominance within the kiss. You relinquish, knowing damn well that you would never win anyway, but the fight is part of the fun. He captures your lip back in between his teeth and nips hard enough that a tingling feeling reaches your lips, and you think he’s kissed you hard enough to draw blood. If that’s the case, Jungkook isn’t one bit bothered. Jungkook’s drawn blood before — the lashes and scars on his body are a testament to that.

Jungkook’s mouth detaches from yours and travels across your cheek toward your ear like he did earlier.

“You’re mine, you got that?”

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you spit, looking back at him with hooded eyes.

Jungkook sucks on your neck just below your ear, knowing exactly how to provoke you. The sweet spot on your body that only he knows. His mouth is greedy and careless as his teeth nibble hard at one spot and then another before his tongue immediately soothes the burn of your flesh. And yet all at the same time, you never want the burn to stop. You want him to keep going — to fully burst into flames and burn you with him.

But it isn’t like he was wrong. It didn’t matter how often you fought it never took away from the fact that you were absolutely, irrevocably his. A truth you cling to, never wanting that to change. And it may be toxic to fight and fix it with a fuck but right now you can’t help but need him right fucking now.

Jungkook just laughs, working one of his hands up to the nape of your neck to grab your hair and pull hard at the roots. You don’t fight back the moan that escapes your lips and instead you welcome the action with a salacious grin, feeling him exhale against your warm flesh.

You can tell he is needy as he furthers himself down to your chest, arms pulling the jacket off of your shoulders, ripped vest along with it. He continues to suck in mouthfuls of your skin, watching as it darkens and then placing more tiny little kisses around the sensitive area.

“I honestly hate you sometimes, Jungkook.”

Every moan, every whimper you release is for him. Moving your head side to side, you give Jungkook an all-access pass to every part of you. You shiver at the thought that the next time you’re with his friends will be when you’re going to be marked up all pretty, teeth marks and love bites littering your neck, chest and skin. Visible proof that Jungkook has claimed you as his.

“Want you on your knees, need to see how badly you wanna be mine.”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you obey his words as you lower yourself to your knees right before him. With your head at the same height as his hips, you can see the hard length straining against his right thigh. Jungkook doesn’t waste time undoing the two buttons above his bulge before unzipping his leather pants — the sound of it ringing loudly in your ears and your mouth drools at the thought of what is to come next.

Jungkook pulls the tight leather down to his mid thigh, just enough for you to see his cockhead poking out the seam of his Tom Ford boxers. It’s a bright pretty peach shade, smeared in white slick from the precum that has been gathering since the start of the night.

“You hate me all of a sudden, yeah?” Jungkook asks mockingly, a growl vibrating from his chest.

It doesn’t even matter how often you see his length hard and ready, it always leaves you speechless, wanting nothing more than for him to take the words out of your mouth and replace it with his cock.

Noticing that your eyes are trained on his dick, Jungkook’s hand immediately plunges into the band of his boxers and fishes his cock out for you to admire fully. The pride is written all over his face as your mouth drops open slowly and you lick the corners of your mouth, then the skin of your lower lip. Jungkook bends down at his waist and tilts your head to the side to face you away from him before he spits on your cheek, a loud whimper leaving your lips. Jungkook watches as your head turns back towards him, eyes filled with lust as you feel it drip down your face.

“You want to hate me that much but look at you covered in me,” he degrades as he pulls you towards his cock and smears his spit and precum around the side of your cheek. “You can’t hate me that much sweetheart.”

You hear him sucking air through his teeth as your hand reaches up to run your fingertips over the protruding veins that run from the flushed, weeping mushroom head down to the base before handling his balls in your palms and giving one tight squeeze. You smile to yourself knowing just how affected he is. Affected by your touch, how it’s you that brings him to a halt. He hisses as your hand wraps around his shaft.

He is long, hard,and sensitive to the touch. Thick from base to tip, deep purple veins are prominent against his skin which decorate his cock so prettily within the wetness of pearly pearlescent cum. Your hand is barely big enough to close around him fully, making Jungkook laugh dryly at your feeble attempt.

However, you’re quick to shut him up as you squeeze his cock a few times, feeling him throb, his body tensing.

The yellow street lamps continue to stream through the small window and it’s just unfair how a dingy alleyway lamp can compliment him so beautifully. It creates a halo-like backdrop around him, almost teasing you enough to think heaven really lost their most sacred one; only you know that Jungkook is nothing but sin and inevitable danger. He runs a hand through his curly onyx shaded hair, allowing multiple curls to fall into his face and in front of his eyes and you can feel the desperation within you become all too consuming as it swallows you whole.

Taking his length into both of your hands, you feel how heavy it is in your hands, and you ache to feel the weight of it on top of your tongue. The glisten of cum leaking from his slit tempts you enough to unlock your jaw and pull yourself forward towards him. Your mouth wraps around his head the smallest amount, teasingly, eyes staring straight up at Jungkook as your tongue circles his slit for his taste.

You savour the saltiness of his pre-cum, making sure to suck at the slit to paint your wet muscle with more tangy goodness. Starting off slow, you kitten lick the head, coating his cock in saliva to ready yourself for taking him in further.

Your mouth sinks down further, passing his cockhead and taking in some of the delicious thickness of his length. Your lower lip drags over the underside of his cock, massaging the vein with every suck.

“Ah shit, such a good little cockwhore,” Jungkook hisses into the open, steadying himself with one hand on the wall behind you.

Looking up at him with lust behind your lashes, you keep eye contact with him as your mouth slowly makes its way further down on him and Jungkook closes his eyes and inhales a long deep sigh and lets it out through his nose as he groans. “Yeah, looks like you fucking love me or is just my cock down your throat you’re falling for?”

Jungkook’s words are accompanied by a tender hand to the cheek where the mixture of spit and cum has dried up. His thumb caressing you back and forward. You close your eyes and focus on taking him deeper into your mouth. Your willpower takes hold of you as you sink further down until you feel your nose touch the small hairs at the lowest part of his tummy where his pubic hair rests.

Moans fall around his cock as you feel your own arousal pooling in your centre, wettening your inner thighs as you squeeze them tightly to ease the thrumming inside your pussy. One of your hands falls to his balls, cupping them and gently massaging them. The hand that isn’t currently holding his body weight finds the roots of your hair once more and tugs it hard at the sensation.

“Lean back honey and let me fuck your mouth.”

Jungkook’s cock falls from your mouth, leaving your lips connected to his cockhead by three thick slivers of spit cum mix. Your knees ache now and your throat burns but you know that you will do anything to please Jungkook so you decide to sit back on your bottom and rest your head against the cold wall as Jungkook’s thighs move either side of you.

With you now pinned up against the wall, you open your mouth once again and let Jungkook press forward, enveloping his whole cock inside your mouth. Your eyes squeeze tight as you start to gag around him. The sounds of you struggling to accommodate his thickness spurs Jungkook on further as he starts to piston himself in and out of your mouth over and over before halting his movements and holding himself at the back of your throat. Mascara from your lashes starts to puddle under your eyes as you struggle to breath past the thickness stuffed in your mouth.

“Relax your mouth, honey,” Jungkook croaks out, too lost in his own pleasure.

Doing as you’re told, you manage to relax further which gives Jungkook enough room to push past the tightness of your throat to fuck further into the tight tunnel.

“Shit, such a good girl. You’re so wet around my cock; oh f-fuck baby, take it, d-deeper.” The words of encouragement made you smile the best you can, even with a mouth filled with cock. He pulls out once more and your body gasps for as much air as you possibly can before he is back inside you.

Your gag reflex plays up every so often as Jungkook fucks into you like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see you. Focusing on your breathing helps aid the intrusion as he keeps up the hard rhythm he has his hips going in.

Feeling his hips stutter, you know he’s close. You moan loudly around his dick, the vibrations coating his shaft as he lets out the loudest moan he has of the night. You swallow around his cock, making sure to hollow out your cheeks the best you can, wanting nothing more than to see the man you love come completely undone, spilling his love for you into your awaiting tongue.

But it’s like he can read your mind as he removes himself from your mouth, watching as your eyes widen in confusion.

“Wha-why didn’t you come?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

Leaning down, Jungkook pulls you back to your feet and then lifts you into his embrace, his hands under your ass to keep you steady as you wrap your own arms around his neck and legs around his tiny waist to secure yourself. Jungkook presses you against the wall and leans in to kiss you again. It’s not gentle but it isn’t as rough as his last few kisses have been. His tongue is still insistent but you allow him to meet your own tongue with no hesitation. You feel his dick twitch against your inner thigh.

“If I'm going to come, then it’ll be inside your pussy.”

You whimper at his promise and kiss him hard on the lips again as he walks you both away from the wall. You’re lowered back onto your feet, Jungkook taking a hold of each of your shoulders and turning you around until your back is facing him.

Realising you’re standing in front of Jungkook’s motorcycle, you swallow hard at what’s to come. His hands slide down your back, following the trail of your bare spine before stopping at the small of your back. His heavy booted foot slithers its way in between your thighs and pries your legs open, watching as they spread for him.

What comes next is a shock to you. Jungkook crouches down below you, one palm on your clothed ass cheek and the other in between your legs, rubbing back and forth on your pussy. The damp spot grows with every flick of his fingertips on your clit and Jungkook makes sure to apply added pressure to the sensitive nub as he rubs.

With no warning, a tearing sound from behind you is heard and your mouth falls open in disbelief. Cold air meets your ass and that’s when it dawns on you that Jungkook has completely torn your leggings from the back. Your body hurls forward as he continues to tear the cotton material until your full ass is exposed to him. Mortification and unadulterated desire creeps up on you, warming your skin and setting your tummy alight at the realisation of the situation. But Jungkook doesn’t finish there. Grabbing the lace of your underwear, he pulls with all his strength at the article of clothing and rips them apart too. They stay on your body by your hips but the middle of your underwear is torn and dangling in between your thighs, pussy now in his vision.

Your pussy drips embarrassingly for him as your legs stay spread wide for his own enjoyment and pleasure. It’s so fucking degrading and yet you can’t seem to get enough of pleasing him.

Taking the situation into your own hands, you grab at your asscheeks and pull them apart to give Jungkook all the access to your dripping core. “Jungkook? Look how wet I am for you, baby.” You wiggle your ass left and right and back again, taunting Jungkook to touch you.

“Filthy fucking girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass. A hand is lifted and is brought down just as quick to slap you across your left asscheek.

You snort at his attempts, knowing just how to rile him up. “Is that all you got?” You grin and even though he can’t see you, you know he knows you’re grinning. He can hear it in your tone. You arch your back slightly, sticking your ass out toward him.

He slaps you once more, this time to the right listening to you hiss at the contact, prompting him to smack you again on the other side, and again back on the left — alternating cheeks until your ass is searing warm and you’re a babbling drooling mess. Jungkook dips his hands back down in between your legs and a string of curse words are sworn out loud when he finds your pussy wetter than when he started.

“Please Jungkook, I want you,” you beg, knowing you mean it in more ways than one.

You're waiting for Jungkook to do something as you stand there in front of him, pussy dripping and skin searing. Looking over your shoulder, what you didn't expect was for Jungkook to walk away from you towards his workbench filled with all kinds of equipment for fixing up bikes. You watch as he picks up something red but his body shields most of the item from your prying eyes.

He comes back and you see that the item is long and dangles from his hands as he holds it in two hands. Jungkook picks your hands up from holding your ass and places them at the bottom of your back before binding the item around your wrists.

It’s when you feel the thick PVC that you realise he has tied your hands with a pair of jumper cables. What is even more mortifying is after he finishes tying up the leads, he bends you forward onto his bike with your tits pressed against the leather of the seat in the exact same compromising position that Jimin had you in earlier in the night. But this time it’s Jungkook, and you’re bound to his liking awaiting his cock.

“Don’t fucking like seeing what’s mine with anyone else… especially not fucking Jimin,” he snarls.

Jungkook spits from behind you into his palm and grips his cock, fucking his fist in eager strokes at your bound bent state right in front of him. He pushes his cock down to swipe through your folds, catching your arousal and coating himself in your wetness — a messy concoction mixed with his own cum and spit.

“Whenever you’re in this position, you’ll be reminded that I’m the one who fucked you raw on their motorcyle.” Jungkook pushes into you at the end of his speech while his hands slither to your hips and grips the skin tight.

Usually Jungkook preps you before he fucks you, using his fingers and tongue to open you up for him — stretching you wide to fit his thick length inside but other than him finger fucking you earlier in the night, there was nothing.

The bulbous head of his dick presses further into you until it finally passes past your tight hole, stretching your cunt open, the burn welcomed almost immediately as your head falls forward and you whimper at the pained pleasure.

You manage to keep your breathing steady as your lips are caught in between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning further. Your cunt flutters around him as he continues to push himself forward; struggling to take him in fully from the lack of foreplay. You can only thank the high heavens above that Jungkook let you use his thighs to get off, to get you wet in preparation of his cock because without it, you’re absolutely sure that he would have had you apart just like your clothing. Soiled and ripped into two halves.

“So big…” you whisper, beginning to feel the lightheadedness creep over you.

Jungkook helps slightly by pushing you off his cock until it is just the tip sheathed inside your cunt before he pulls you right back into him — his cockhead already pressing against your cervix as your pussy stretches to accommodate him — moulding itself into the perfect shape just for Jungkook. Folds white and creamy each time he pulls out, just how he likes it.

Your walls relax enough to allow Jungkook to start pulling and pushing you onto his cock. You spread your legs further for him, the new space allows your body to accept him easier. Jungkook swears as he eventually bottoms out within you, hot and swollen.

“Am I giving you everything you wanted, sweetheart?” Jungkook snarls, “my little cocksleeve.”

Your mouth drops open as Jungkook keeps rolling his hips into you, feeling every inch he feeds into your greedy cunt. The bike beneath you both shifts and you hear the metal from the kickstand below grind against the floor, the machine threatening to fall but this only goads Jungkook to fuck you harder.

All that radiates from Jungkook right now is power and dominance as he completely takes over your body, using it as his own personal fucking toy. His cock manages to glide inside you with such ease, reaching deep inside of you. Each thrust accompanied by a feral grunt, as if he is putting everything he has into each pump of his cock. The sounds of the skin of his hips and thighs meeting yours fill the darkened room. Your duet of moans loud enough to be heard on the other side of the town.

“God, Jungkook! You fuck me so good — keep going — .”

Jungkook keeps up his pace, fucking into you rough, breaking his own promise from earlier. He sinks his cock back in with ease, the squelching of your cum, and skin slapping mixed with your harmonious moans fill the room. The site of your ass rippling with every thrust makes his mouth water. His hand grips your flesh and lets his fingers dig in, giving it a spank… and again twice, and thrice for his own pleasure of watching your body bounce for him.

Reaching forward, Jungkook finds your clit and circles it with two long slender fingers. You tremble beneath him, feeling your body tense as your orgasm approaches.

“Want to play with your ass,” he goads, knowing exactly how much satisfaction you gain from it. Undeniably, him too.

As quick as his fingers find your clit, they are removed and you almost let out a whine of disappointment. You’re not fast enough to give him an answer to his question before Jungkook takes his two fingers and presses them against the tight ring of your asshole, teasing little circles on your hole.

The sensation gives you flutters in your tummy, your pussy clenching at the promise of being completely filled with every part of Jungkook. Without warning, he presses his two fingers further, breaching your tight hole and immediately curling his fingers inside.

The feeling of his fingers inside your ass as he fucks your pussy makes your cunt flutter around him, which also allows your ass to tighten around his fingers too. Your hands try to reach out for Jungkook but the movement brings a nasty reminder that your wrists are still tied by the jump leads, leaving you craving to touch him even more.

You can't do anything but lie against his motorcycle as he fucks into you from behind with a ruthless pace, pushing your body into the bike.

You cry out when he finds that earthshaking spot inside of your ass. "Yes, right there," you cry.

Grunting, Jungkook makes sure he concentrates on that spot in your ass. Pulling his fingers all the way out, spitting on them to lube them back up and then pushing back into you knuckle deep. The sounds of his cock fucking into your cunt, wet obscene squealching sounds, his fingers in your ass and the slapping of skin picks up and it’s the most erotic sounds the both of you have ever heard. It may be the best sex you have both ever had.

It doesn’t take much more — just a few more drags of his fingers in your tight ass with his tattooed fingers as he continues to impale you right down on his cock until you cum, almost blacking out from how forceful your orgasm is. It's breathtaking and you can't keep your eyes open as he fucks into you, spurts of your cum splattering him as you struggle to breathe.

Jungkook moans, pushing harder into you while you are still working through your orgasm. Cunt tight and pulsing around his length, he smirks when you squeal out his name again.

“Another.” He demands, keeping up the harsh slap of his hips.

Jungkook fills your ass with a second finger this time. The arrival of his middle finger is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit it alongside his forefinger perfectly. You feel your muscles constrict around his fingers at the new intrusion. Your cum spilling out of your used pussy as Jungkook fucks you raw like his own filthy possession. Like his own dirty fleshlight.

Your head turns swiftly to the side to see Jungkook above you. His hair is in a disarray, small droplets of sweat hiding behind his tresses of hair, allowing strands upon strands to stickily cling to his face. You watch as his abdomen flexes with each stroke, the deep V lines of his pelvis appearing and disappearing with every thrust. His cock exits you covered in your white viscid lust from your first orgasm as your second nears.

“I’m coming —,”

He looks monstrous with eyes dark and dilated with lust as his lips are caught in between his canines, expression clouded with carnality. He looks so beautiful like this. In the midst of his own pleasure.

You feel your body tense all over as your second orgasm rips through you. “Right there, please, I-I’m coming,” you scream, head blank and dizzy from the pleasure as you come all over again. Your body is tense and tears fall from your lashes and coats your cheeks in wetness. You mewl and scream, Jungkook plunging his cock harder and harder into you, coaching you through your high.

Pulling out of you, Jungkook pulls you off of his bike with the jump cable lead in his hand and guides you to your knees. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as your mouth envelopes him once more, opting to suck on his cock rough and fast.

He gathers his fists on top of your head to still your head as he begins to fuck into your throat with renowed vigor. Your eyes close as you taste both your own cum and Jungkook’s salty essence all at once. You relax your jaw to allow Jungkook to push himself past the tightness of your throat as he gives out a feral grunt with every stroke of his cock.

“So eager to have your mouth stuffed with my cum, aren’t you!?”

You hum at the praise, mouth too full to tell him exactly how it makes you feel as you squeeze your eyes closed in pleasure. With one final thrust, Jungkook stills his hips, his cock blanketed by your oesophagus at the back of your throat, leaving you gagging and coughing. Spurts of warm cum paint the back of your mouth as you feel him slide out of you as he reaches his orgasm. White sticky cum coats every part of your throat, tongue, and cheeks as you look up into his eyes, tongue hanging out for more.

You both put your lips back around his dick and suckle softly on the tip, tongue teasing the slit for more cum. Jungkook falls back slightly, using his elbows to prop his weight up against the workstation his tools are on.

You pull away from his cock, making a loud ‘pop’ as your lips leave his head. You shower his dick with small kitten kisses, feeling it soften against your lips.

“Jimin will never be able to fuck you like I do, sweetheart, just remember that.”

Again, warmth radiates all over your body at his words — the knowledge of you being his and his only gives you a prideful buzz.

Titling your head to look at Jungkook, who is towering over you, you smile a sweet saccharine smile and wink. “Jimin will never be able to fuck me like you,” you agree. “But what about Taehyung?”

note: pls don’t be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <3

3K notes · View notes

zeltqz · 10 months

Text

unwind with me | haruchiyo sanzu

pairing. ex bf!sanzu x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

synopsis. when sanzu doesn't take you breaking up with him seriously.

content. mentions of murder (bonten antics), pills, sex under the influence, sanzu being in denial, clingly obsessive haruchiyo, toxic relationship, sanzu broke into your house, so implied stalking ig? no violence though

taglist. @insayninthamembrayn @mrsharuchiyo @thisbicc @Mishueb @littleoanh @gennysuga @wenumsmol @foreshadxw @meuw02

authors note. IM BACK BITCHES (kinda sorta idk) i know i promised to post like days ago but things happened so..........yeah my fault my fault

“This is me,” you said with a small smile to your date. The uber driver stopped outside your house as you dug through your bag for your keys.

“I had fun today,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours. His warm brown eyes stared at yours as you fought back the urge to kiss him. It’s late, the sun set long ago, the black sky littered with stars and the mood was just perfect. If there was another moment to kiss him it was now.

As if he was thinking the same, his eyes dropped down to your lips as his tongue darted out to wet his own. You leaned forward first, closing what little gap was left between both your bodies and you kissed him, slow and sweet.

The driver watched the slow kiss through the mirror and frowned. “How adorable. But you need to leave my car. I have other stops to make.”

The two of you pulled away, having forgotten your surroundings and you cleared your throat, bidding goodbye to your date and the driver and slid out of the car. When you looked back at the car, he had his hands in a phone gesture and mouthed Call me , making you giggle as the car drove off. You bit back on a shit-eating grin as you made your way up to your door. If it wasn’t for the love struck haze in your mind, you would’ve noticed how weird it was that your door was already unlocked.

Stepping inside your house, you flicked on the light, humming to yourself as you kicked off your shoes. You grabbed a sorry snack from the fridge and began to dig into it as you thought back to your day. This was the fifth date your friends set you up on this week alone. Each of them were exhausting and boring; the men mediocre at best, only talking about themselves the entire time and rarely asking you questions about yourself, your job or your life.

Today however, exceeded all your expectations. Not only was he nurturing, kind, and caring, he also paid for all your things despite telling him you could afford it, listened to you talking about your life and remembered bits and pieces to bring up later. It shocked you when he remembered a short joke you made earlier and even brought it up later causing you to break out into laughter.

Despite being the lovely person he was, there was still something missing. Compared to your ex boyfriend who quite frankly was crazy. You shook your head, refusing to think about Haruchiyo right now when you’re trying to move on.

With a sigh, you walked over to your living room with the intent to watch some TV, and yelp when you see Haruchiyo reclining on your couch like he lives here. Like you didn’t break up with him last week. He even had the audacity to put his filthy shoes on your furniture just because he can.

“Get out.”

He looked away from the TV and over to you. With the darkness in the living room, his face looked even more haunting as the TV screen lit up half of his face, his mouth stretched into a chilling smile that sent shivers down your spine. If you had something other than a teaspoon in your hands right now you would’ve dashed it at him.

“But you just got here…” he said with a frown.

“And you need to leave. Right now. B—before I call—”

“Call who? The police? You know Bonten basically controls them, right?” He leaned back against the couch, stretching his long arms out and smirked at you. “I practically own them. They worship me baby.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. I won’t call the police. But you need to get out.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, all teeth at you. “Nice to see you too.”

You felt like you had 400 pound shackles on your feet with how heavy your footsteps were, but you stopped in front of the couch. “Why are you here?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Can I not see you? Check up on you?” The fact he looked genuinely confused made you want to rip your hair out.

“You have a phone. I have a phone.”

“You blocked me,” he cut you off, narrowing his eyes.

You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting back a scoff. “Take the hint.” You leaned closer to his face, hoping the closeness would make your words actually enter his ears not float past him. “We. Broke. Up. I do not love you anymore.”

Haruchiyo hummed, stroking his chin, looking up at the ceiling. “No…No I don’t recall us breaking up.” He looked back down and smiled playfully when he watched your serious face fall. “I remember you telling me to fuck off and die though. That’s what you told me.” He shrugged. “Nothing about breaking up though.”

“Huh?” You blinked at him, hands clenched to your side. “It’s common sense!” You took a deep breath, stepping away from him to pace around your living room, all the while he just leaned forward, grabbed the snack you dropped on the table and began to eat it.

“You know what. Fine.” You crossed the room once more, stopping in front of him. “I want to break up.”

He shook his head taking a bite of the Oreo. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I want to break up.” You meant every single word and you noted the exact moment he realised you weren’t playing around. His mouth fell into a flat line and his eyebrows creased as he frowned.

“You don’t mean that,” he repeated, standing from the couch. You took a step back when he kept walking towards you until you hit the wall. His eyes flashed dangerously as he glared down at you. “Take it back.”

“No,” you spat back, holding your ground. Deep down you knew it wasn’t right for you to be provoking him like this, not with a track record like his. But you were sick of being submissive. “I—I mean every word.” You had to force the words out, hoping with each passing the weakness inside you left with it.

But the second you stuttered it all went to fail.

His smile only grew. “That so?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Why’s that?” He pouted, his whole demeanour condescending as he brushed his hand over your cheek. The faint tingle of his fingers brushing along your skin had your lip trembling, fighting the urge to flinch away from his touch. He’s so scary. “C’mon, tell me why? What did I do?”

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat. “You’re dangerous, Haru.”

He snickered a little. “Common knowledge, sweetheart.” He moved his hand down to your chin, fighting your face up to his eyeline. “What else?”

From the corner of your eye, you can’t miss the tattoo on his forearm. The permenant, constant reminder that Haruchiyo will always be who he is. When you first saw the tattoo, you let ignorance consume you, thinking he just liked the design, but now you know the true meaning behind Bonten and their motives, you know Haruchiyo’s job excuting people he thinks are traitors. The fact when you asked for his body count and he only shrugged made you want to puke. You can’t look at the tattoo the same anymore, neither can you look at him the same.

“You kill people.”

“So?”

“So?” You blinked uselessly at him. “Are you serious? Y—you can’t just kill people Sanzu! It’s—”

“It’s Haru to you.” He had the audacity to roll his eyes but at least he removed his hand from your face. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

You crossed your arms together and shook your head. “No. Not anymore.”

His lips twitched up into a smile, the corners of his scars following suit. Those same scars you used to kiss every night and tell him they’re beautiful and unique do nothing but scare you even more. “Do you remember what you used to say to me?” he started, slowly tilting your head to the side by your chin.

“I used to say a lot of things.” You swallowed harshly, hoping he doesn’t feel the tremble of your jaw.

“You said that you love me,” he muttered, distracted by your lips and how sexy they looked under your ceiling light, “that you cared about me…swore that you’d never leave me—”

The memories of each moment fill your mind, the images of kissing him goodbye, squeezing him tight and begging him to stay before he could leave, pouting when he told you he couldn’t stay the night because he had “work to do”.

Vaguely, you wonder that if you knew what ‘work’ consisted of, would you have let him stay the night?

“That was before…”

“Before what?” He looked at you confused, intrigued.

You took a deep breath, swallowing your emotions down. “Before you lied to me about who you were and what you did!” Your voice got higher the more you spoke, and you hated the way you sounded and the way tears fell down your face. “I fell in love with the guy before I figured out who you were. You’re a fucking murderer and I don’t love you.”

The silence was deafening, filled with nothing but the dull sound of your AC, the water from the tap dripping slowly into the sink, and the sound of your heavy breathing as you tried to calm yourself down.

He backed away and started laughing. It was a low chuckle that slowly erupted into something more, a full fit of laughter and you couldn’t help but feel so small, like the punchline of some unknown joke.

“What’s—what’s so funny?”

He can’t stop laughing, even after he slapped a hand over his mouth to conceal it. “Nothing—nothing. It’s just—fuck. You’re so dumb.”

“I—” You blinked at him.

“You knew exactly what you were getting into when you dated me. You’re not fooling anybody with this act of yours. You like the thrill, don’t you? You had this mindset that you thought you could change me, right? That’s what this is about?”

“I didn’t— No. I di—”

“No,” he cut you off, standing in front of you again. He placed his hand on your waist and tugged you closer. “You did. You just don’t want to accept the truth.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fought back a whimper when you felt his lips by your ear, your legs turning weaker by the second when he whispered, “You can’t accept the fact you’re in love with someone like me.”

You inhaled sharply when he licked your earlobe. “I don’t love you.”

He hummed softly by your ear, and you hated how the sound calmed you. If it wasn’t for the fact your heart was beating so fast it might as well have jumped outside of your chest, you know you would’ve forgot about everything he did or made you feel and melted into his touch.

“Why don’t you love me?” His lips tickled your ears as he whispered, voice full of emotion and it almost pained you to spend another second with him this close to you. His face turned, his nose sliding against your cheek leaving a compellingly warm trail until he stopped by pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was far too short for your liking, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved when he pulled away, untrusting of your own body to have the strength to pull away yourself. “What did I ever do to you?”

“N—nothing…”

“So why do you hate me?” When you shook your head and tried to look down at the ground, he lifted your head up back to his.

“Stop it,” you grumbled, trying to shake out of his grip but froze when he pressed his forehead against yours. Green eyes peeked down at yours, and your stomach ached when you saw the heat in his eyes. “I don’t hate you Haru… I just—” You struggled to find the words for the sudden inner turmoil you were facing regarding your feelings. “I don’t know.”

“So you love me? Hm?” He nudged your face back to his when you looked distracted. “C’mon.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You love me just like I love you. Look at me.” He gently shook you. You flicked your eyes up at him, shiny with your tears that had his thumb tingling to wipe it off, or lick it off. Either option has him satifised.

Licking your tears though will probably creep you out even more and it took him this long to calm you down, the last thing he’d want is to scare you off again. So he chose the latter, wiping your tears away as he shushed you.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I got you.” You started to cry harder to the point he needed buckets to clear it all away. He pushed your head into his chest and you wrinkled his shirt with how hard you gripped it, and sobbed silently. “You’re getting my shirt wet, baby.”

“Shut up,” your voice was watery as you stifled a laugh, embracing him in a tight hug. The tears didn’t stop until he pulled your face away, holding you with one big hand on your cheek.

“Lemme make you feel better, baby.” He doted kisses along your cheeks. You shook your head and snifled.

“I can’t.”

“You can. Look at me.” There was a hint of demand in his voice that had you forcing yourself to meet his gaze. He licked his lips as he looked searchingly across your face. He was leaning forward and your eyes squeezed shut when he met your lips in a kiss.

His hand slid down to your back, pulling you towards him till your chests touched. Your arms ached with the need to hold him back, wrap his arms around him to embrace him the way you want him to.

“Haru, n—” He sloppily kissed you again, pushing you back against the wall.

You moaned into his mouth when he moved his hands to your ass, squeezing and holding it in a painful grip as his tongue devoured your mouth, licking along yours. He always kissed sloppily, loving nothing more than to pull away and watch the string of spit break. One of his hands moved upwards to carress your waist, squeezing gently as he slowly slid up your shirt, his fingers tickling your stomach moments later.

You broke the kiss to switch angles, holding him by the back of his neck, pressing your chest as close to his as possible in an unspoken request for him to go further. He lifted you off the floor and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Your mind was screaming at you for letting yourself slip between the cracks of Haru’s fingers again, but your body was aching, rolling with heat that only Haruchiyo could extinguish.

With that, he flopped you onto your bed, kneeling between your legs and started to unbutton his shirt. “I missed you so fucking much,” he said, throwing his shirt somewhere into the dark corner of your room.

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from saying it back.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, digging into his pants pocket for a baggie of MDMA pills. He placed one on your tongue, and slotted one on his, letting it dissolve on his tongue before leaning down to lick into your mouth. This was the level of sloppiness he’s craved, rolling his tongue against yours, sucking on it until you caved, running your hands along his chest until they reached his pants.

You hooked a finger into his belt loop, unbuckling the item and sliding it off him. He broke the kiss to look down at your hands as they disappeared into his pants, his mouth dropping open as you brushed his cock lightly. “F—fuck…”

“Feel good?” You whisper in his ear, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

“Yeah,” he murmurred, leaning down to lay a littany of sloppy kisses down your neck and chest. You lifted your arms up and helped him remove your shirt before he was groping your chest.

His hands slid under your body and unfastened your bra, tossing it in the same direction he disposed of his shirt. “Never seen someone with better tits than yours, fuck.” He sat back and squeezed them together, enjoying the sight of his hands alone covering your whole breast. “You’re so sexy.”

His head lowered close enough until he latched onto a nipple, his tongue circled around it as he licked and sucked. Your chest stuttered in your chest as his warm mouth made you dizzy. “Haru.”

“Hm?” He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. “What’s wrong?”

The effects of the pill had your mind blanking and sensations intensifying. Every vein in your body was on full alert as you felt the raw jittery energy run through them. “Keep going.”

He grinned as he watched your trip start and began sucking down your stomach. Your hands bunched up his hair, unaware of the tight grip you possessed when his tongue stopped above your abdomen. He all but ripped your pants off, leaving your underwear on and continued his journey to your thighs.

“Haru, come on,” you whispered, impatient. You were just as hungry to see him between your legs as he was to eat you out.

“Fuck…you look really good…” he murmurs as he raked his eyes down your body, focused on the spread of your legs. He hooked his finger under your panties and tugged on it, your slick attaching to his finger and he licked his lips. “So wet already?”

“...shut up.”

He chuckled and began pulling your panties down. Two big palms spread your legs to make enough room for his face. His eyes sparkled with admiation like he’s eyeing the worlds holiest relic. The moonlight bouncing from the window only made your wet folds glisten, paired up with the way the drugs melted through his system made his mouth water. He got a little lost in the moment when he slides a finger through your folds, relishing in the hitched moan that left your moan.

How he missed that sound. How he missed your sounds.

Your little breathless ‘please’ was lost behind closed ears when he licked a long stripe on your cunt. A muffled slur of his name slipped from your mouth as he slowly ate you out, focusing on the way your wetness felt on his tongue. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking obscenly so that your back arched off the bed.

Drinking from you is so addictive and sweet he thinks he might cry if he has to pull away. He pulled you closer, your body being dragging along the sheets as he continued to devour you. The closer your body was, the more hungry he felt, and his nails dug into your numb thighs painfully.

His tongue lazily licked up and down at your clit until your legs were squeezing his head, shifting restlessly on the bed to get him away from you.

“H—haru, fuck fuck fuck,” you whimpered, pulling his hair aggressively as your body shook with pleasure.

“Not yet, baby. I’m not done,” he spoke into your pussy, moving back to your clit. “Wanna lick you dry, holy shit.”

“I can’t—” You whined, trying to push him off you. After a couple more scratching and tugging, he pulled away, the bottom half of his face soaked in your slick.

“If you can’t even handle my tongue, how can you handle my cock?” As if to prove his point, his cock was thick and hard in his boxers when he stood up, moving to kneel between your legs.

Watching Haruchiyo strip was like a holy rite, the way his dick sprung out from his boxers. Especially when he began palming his length, pushing more and more precum from the tip with each jerk. Your mouth watered as you sat up slowly to get on your knees, moving to the end of the bed where he stood.

You wrapped a hand around his cock, making his hips jerk forward when you began to lap at the bead of precum beading at the tip. He let out a faint moan at the way your lips suctioned around his cock, the warmth of your mouth making his head spin the lower you sunk down.

“Just like that…” he bit his lip drawing blood as you started to bob your head up and down. Your jaw ached from the stretch and it took everything in you not to choke, but you wanted to please him, so you endured it and took him as far in as you could.

The second your nose brushed his pelvis, his hand flew to the back of your head and held you down there, head thrown back, mouth flopped open as he let out puffy breaths with each passing second your throat convulsed around his cock.

He pulled you off and positioned you onto all fours, rubbing and smacking at a single cheek. “You know what you do to me?” He licked his lips, moving his cock between your thighs and began to slowly fuck them.

The heat of his cock plus the wetness between your legs made you slowly fuck back, face tucked between your arms. His cock is nestled perfectly between your thighs and to tempt him more, you squeeze your thighs together, fighting back a laugh when he groans.

“Oh, it’s like that huh?” He pulled out and you never felt more empty despite him not even fucking you yet. “You wanna keep that same attitude in five seconds?”

“Wha— fuck!” you moaned out, nails scratching the sheets when he sheathed himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh my god! F—fuck!” Your body bounced back against him as he held your hips, fucking into you like you’re a fuck toy, submissive and pliant.

He threw his head back, closing his eyes as your pussy squeezed and gushed around his cock. He fucked you till you’re stuffed, your walls dragging along his cock with every thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbles, voice borderline shaking. He stopped moving and spanked you again, making you jolt. “Fuck back onto it.”

“N—no,” you managed to stutter out, still keeping your stubborn demeanour.

“No?” His thrusts came to a stop.

“Don’t stop.” You frowned, straining your weak muscles to look behind you, but he shoved your face back into the sheets.

He bent forward until his back was flush against yours, and spoke into your ear. “I said fuck back onto it.” He dug his hands into your hair and lifted you up. “You gonna do as I say?”

“Y—yes.” He let go of your hair and moved back and watched with wild eyes as you slowly pushed off his cock and back down. “O—oh my god,” you moaned out, digging your face back into the sheets as you continued fucking yourself on his cock. Every now and then he’d slap your ass and groan into your ear, all sinful and low enough to spur you on and go crazy on his cock even more.

Sanzu practically felt your whole body go numb as you silently screamed into the sheets as your body trembled. Your orgasm was intense and he snapped his hips forward, making your silent scream a yelp as he pinned you back down to the bed, fucking into you with the intent of cumming inside you. You could feel his hips stutter and after a couple seconds, he slammed once more then there was a wet squelch and a moan followed by heavy panting.

He pulled out and sat back, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Your body was stiff and limp and the lack of energy made it hard for you to move. After a couple seconds, you heard him slide off the bed and begin looking around your room for his clothes. In the time it took him to change back into his clothes, you managed to lift yourself enough to roll over onto your back.

After fixing his belt, he pulled out his phone and read a message from Mikey before putting it back into his pocket. “I gotta go. Got more business to take care of.” He winked at you, taunting you now that you know the meaning behind his ‘business’ and swiftly shut the door behind him.

#—tr </3 #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu imagines #haruchiyo smut #sanzu smut #tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers x reader

2K notes · View notes