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quintessencewrites · 10 months

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Lil Hobie

atsv Hobie x thick!black!fem!reader

“God dammit, Hobie!”

“‘Hobie dammit, Hobie’ is kinda a redundant statement, love, don’t ya-”

Warnings: SMUT heavy (18+), all porn, no plot breeding kink, slight hematolagnia, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, Hobie's got a God complex, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, Hobie's tryna trap you (consensually ofc), explicit language (as always), and as always, I probably missed some...

Word Count: 2.7k...it's just a little dribble

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @6-noir @ihearttish @vampzxi @verachii @phantomof-themcu @taiiunknown @sapphicvqmpires @pocketsizedpanther @oceean @venusdraco-deactivated20230701

A/N: Kinda proof-read, kinda not, if you find any mistakes, no ya didn't

“Move ya hand, doll-”

The silver hoop pierced through Hobie’s lower lip rolled into his mouth, pinched hard between his teeth. His smirk ran deep through the canyons that outlined his lips and the corners of his nose; canyons that continued through the valley that outlined his pecs and separated his abs into their own cubicle.

The sweat clinging to his dark skin glistened in the headlights of the cars passing outside your window and his abdomen tightened with the strain of restraint that he contained.

“Hobs, it won’t- It’s too-”

His lips puckered to shush you, and a sigh fell from yours. Your cunt clenched around nothing, though Hobie’s mushroom tip kissed your entrance, only pausing there due to your fingertips pushing at his lower abdomen.

“You say this e’ry time, love, and e’ry time, it fits.”

His eyes were dark, glancing over your exposed body and torn suit. His thick fingers ripped your spider-suit to shreds, until your bouncing breasts were free and your dribbling hole quivered from the kiss of cold air.

You couldn’t help but notice every little detail of his face as his gaze ran along your curves. His chin shines, coated in your wetness and the flashback of his pierced tongue abusing your clit sends an electric shock through your body.

His lip ring is crooked, having been twisted over and over between his teeth and the ones above his eyebrow shift everytime his face falls into a pained frown. His thick locs stand every which way, having been tangled with your fingers while his large head sat between your thighs.

His expression was dark, the corners of his mouth curling while the rest of his face remained stoic.

Hobie’s voice was deep and barely above a whisper, his head lowering until your foreheads pressed together. “Move ya hand,” he growled at you, lips barely cracking open fully until they found the spot just below your jaw and his teeth sank in.

Your mouth fell prettily, your plump lips forming a cute little ‘O’, your hands finding their way to the back of Hobie’s neck, burying him further into the crook of yours.

Your senses were flooded; Hob’s lips on your skin, nipping and kissing, his piercing tickling as it grazed your sensitive areas. Warmth spread through you, your walls stretching beyond capacity as your cunt swallowed him whole.

“Shit, Hobie!”

He thrust his thick cock between your legs, bottoming out until his pelvis kissed yours. All eight-plus inches sitting idle, stretching your tight cunt thin. Hobs didn’t dare move, giving you time to adjust while your chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

His came out in spurts, getting stuck deep in his chest everytime you pulled him in further. “Told you it’d fit-”

He swallowed his words the moment your tiny hand flew to close around his throat. Your dark brown eyes were wide, blown with lust.

“Fuck me, Hobs”

His chuckle shot through your system and a moan escaped his parted lips when you clenched around him as the vibrations from his laughter buried themselves deep within you. “Inna minute, doll. It’ll tear you apart if I don’ give you a sec-”

His voice trailed until his words were nonexistent. The collar around his neck that your hand had become tightened, narrowing his airway until the breaths he took became few and far inbetween.

“Tear me apart then, Hobie-”

“Ya lil minx-”

You pushed Hobie away, a movement he wasn’t expecting, and both of you moan loudly as your cunt releases his swollen dick. You’re already missing the feel of him embedded between your walls.

You sat on your knees, back turned to Hobie as the bed beneath you sunk with your movements. Hobie could do nothing but watch, mesmerized by the way your back curved into your ass, so plump and soft that he could sink into it. His gaze brought a burn so good as it ran down to your thick thighs, rubbing against each other at their center, the friction fraying what was left of your suit.

The bed shifted again when you fell to your forearms, behind sky-high and on perfect display for the man standing at attention behind you.

Your suit tore further with the arch in your back, torso pressed into the sheets. Hobie watched, his hand wrapped around his cock, choking it at the base as your manicured fingers snaked around your body, grabbing at your cheeks and spreading them so perfectly until both of your holes were winking at him.

“Tear me apart, Hobie.” You left no room for argument, pushing your hips further and further back until your ass met his front.

Hobie’s brows rose, his smile straight devilish and his hands rose and fell back onto your ass with the sound of thunder. “Wha’ ‘appened to ‘it won’t fit’?” Once more, you could feel his tip line up with your cunt. He couldn’t resist sliding in just slightly; you were so fucking soaked. Slick covered your puffy lower lips, running down your inner thigh. Hobie was about to enter a slip and slide, and he ain’ even know it.

You were writhing beneath his touch, the heat from his body mixing with the heat with yours and turning your bedroom to a sauna. You couldn’t help the quiver in your hips when his dick did nothing more than run along the length of your pussy, spreading your lips and passing over your clit.

The sexual frustration was killing you; it literally fucking hurt. “Hobs,” you mumbled, stretching his name out with a whine.

“Hmm?”

His stupid voice was so damn smug. He loved watching you fall apart before him; whining sloppily, pussy drooling carelessly. He hadn’t even fucked you yet and there you lay, supple figure already putty beneath his fingers.

The very fingers that pressed hard against your hips, sinking into your flesh, gripping hard.

“Hobie, quit playing with me.”

Hobie said nothing, still enjoying the feel of your body beneath his. He had plans to sit there and tease you as long as he wanted-

Yeah, fuck his plans.

He didn’t anticipate you leaning forward, pulling your cunt away from the tease of his cum-coated tip. He couldn’t do a thing but watch curiously when you crawled to the other side of the bed on all fours, dropping slightly to reach over the edge and come back up with something heavy in your hands.

“Wha’ you got there, love?”

This time it was you ignoring him, flipping back around, laying prettily with your back to the sheets and your legs in the air, spread as far apart as your joints would allow.

Hobie’s inhale was sharp, his mouth-watering.

Your head was thrown back, face to the ceiling, but eyes shut to the world. The room was still; the only noise coming through was that of the rain outside.

And then the buzzing started.

The thick device in your hand vibrated viciously, drawing Hobie’s attention to the little thing as you brought it down further and further.

“You wouldn’t-”

But you would. And you did. Hobie stood in front of your bed, discarded for the toy pressed into your clit.

“Oh, my- fuck!”

The rapid vibrations splashed the wetness coating your cunt in every direction and Hobs watched your cum dribble into a forming puddle on the bed.

It felt so fucking good; abusing your clit as Hobie watched. He’d wanted to be the one you came apart for; the one your pussy drooled for, but patience had never been your virtue and you had no time for his playful games.

“You needed this nut that bad, love?”

You could only respond in a string of moans, in words that made no sense.

The bed shifted once again, and suddenly, Hobie was next to you, lifting your body with ease. He sat with his back against the wall, lowering you into his lap until you could feel his pulsing cock against the small of your back.

Your legs remained apart, like magnets that repelled each other and the pressure of the vibrations against your bud intensified when Hobie’s hand covered yours and pressed the toy against you harder.

“H-hob-”

He chuckles at your quite pathetic attempt to cry out his name. “You wanted this nut, baby. Lemme help you get it.”

The tension building in your lower abdomen was fucking fierce. Hobie knew immediately, with the way your moans climbed octaves and your breathing became shallow.

He thought he’d be helping by plunging two fingers deep into your cunt, right where you wanted his cock to be.

All it did was draw you closer to the edge. His fingertips were plunging against the spongy part of your walls, feeling them clench around him.

“That’s a good girl-”

His growled praises were met with shrill gasps.

“Fuck- Hob- Hobs, I’m-”

Something within Hobie was fueled at the sight of you so close, at the sounds of you about to come undone, right beneath him, all over his hand.

The faster and harder he pumped his fingers into your hot center, the more of your cum he collected in his palm. It was sticky, running between the fingers he wasn’t using on you and his mouth watered, wanting so badly to get a taste.

“Ya close, doll?”

“I-I’m c-c-close,” you dragged the word out between clenched teeth.

“Ya gonna cum?”

“Y-yeah, Hobs-”

Hobie removed the hand still guiding yours that had the vibrator pressed into your swollen clit and pushed it into your lower stomach instead, right where your abdomen met your pelvis.

Immediately, the wetness that worked around his fingers grew, until splashing was all that could be heard with your moans. The cum poured out of you, squirting onto your sheets and Hobie’s long legs, soaking your inner thighs and Hobie’s hand.

The hand that didn’t let up on pumping into you, despite you already coming undone all over them.

“H-hobs, oh my God!”

“It’s me,” Hobie growled right into your ear, his breath tickling the delicate space. “I’m ya god-”

Your high was ending, and slowly you came crashing back to Earth. His fingers slowed their pace but didn’t stop completely and they flinched a bit within you when your hand stung his arm. “Shut up,” you sighed out with relief, finally having gotten the nut that you’d wanted for days.

Your cunt released Hobie’s fingers with a squelch and a moan from both parties. He moved them to hook underneath your thighs, lifting you in the air just slightly while he lined himself up with your center.

The damn thing was pulsing, tip thick and swollen, already shining with precum. Hobie smiled with pride when a pretty moan escaped your lips at the sight of it.

“My turn, yeah?”

His tip buried itself within you with ease, your wetness acting like a lubricant as he slipped almost entirely in.

“Y-yeah, Hobs-”

Your verbal ‘yes’ was all he needed. He couldn’t wait anymore, having watched you fall apart like that. He knew he wouldn’t last long; he was holding back just enough, so that he could bury his cum deep in your womb.

He wouldn’t mind a little Hobie Jr. or Hobie-ette walking around, and the idea of seeing you, belly swollen with his DNA-

Ugh, the thought made his dick twitch hard as he lowered you onto it, stretching you to full capacity until your ass sat flush against his pelvis.

“Fuckin’ hell, love-” Hobie’s voice was strained, his torso tight. “Ya so fuckin’ tight-”

He was always vocal during sex, and it always melted you underneath his touch. This time was no different; the feel of Hobie distending you, the way his dick buried itself in your stomach, God, you almost came again right then and there.

“Shit, Hobs-”

“Can I move?”

Your locs swung with the nod of your head and Hobie took that chance to remind you of your manners.

His teeth were sharp, digging into the crevice where your neck ran and became shoulder. He didn’t let up until the taste of iron landed on his tongue and he quickly licked away the flash of scarlet beading on your skin.

A slow hiss drew from your lungs, as he licked away at the pain he caused until it became pleasure.

“Use ya words, baby girl.”

“God dammit, Hobie!”

“‘Hobie dammit, Hobie’ is kinda a redundant statement, love, don’t ya-”

He couldn’t help but trail away at his words when your body began moving on its own, lifting off his cock until just the tip remained and coming back down on it with a bounce.

His back pressed into the wall hard, bracing himself for the repeat action.

Once more, twice more, thrice more it came; your ass clapping hard against his stomach with his cock imbedding itself further into your womb with each bounce.

“Fuck me, Hobie!” You were screeching and begging, and you truly didn’t care.

Hobs reached around, trapping both your wrists in his own large hands. You had no choice but to relinquish control over to the spider, and you did so without a fight.

“With pleasure, love-”

Those were Hobie’s last words before he threw your body off his cock, only to bring you back onto it with vigor. The sounds of clapping and wetness and whines and moans bounced off the walls and echoed back into the room, for sure being heard by your flatmate in her bedroom across the hall.

A thick white ring was collecting at the base of Hobie’s cock, stretching along the length of his shaft everytime you rose and fell back onto it.

“Fuck Hobs, fuck, fuck!”

Your head tilted back, curly locs dangling in Hobie’s face with an ache that burned in both your shoulders.

“Fuck, baby-” The end of Hobie’s words curled upwards, floating through the air and straight to your ears. “Ya can’t keep squeezing me like that-”

His words were hard, his vocal cords tight. Every part of his body was clenched as he willed back the impending orgasm that was begging to get past his tip.

“F-fuck, I c-can’t help it-”

You were shaking, a writing mess atop Hobie. Both your thighs were slick with wetness that splashed each and everytime your bodies made contact with one another.

“You’re gonna make me cum doll, and I won’t have time to pull out-”

Hobie’s dick was disappearing within you and reappearing with a bulge that outlined your abdomen. The ridge of the veins lining his shaft curved within you so sinfully.

“God, Hobie, don’t. D-don’t pull out-”

Hobie’s brows furrowed even further, a pained frown sitting upon his face. His already merciless thrusts became harsher, drilling you at a speed you knew only Hobie could achieve. “You want my seed in you? I could get you pregnant with words like that.” He pulled your wrists back, further forming the arch in your back until your body was crescent-like.

Your moans were beyond understanding at this point; your tongue forming a language only you and Hobie spoke. “G-get me pregnant, Hobs-”

Hobie’s eyes darkened, his cunning grin spreading from ear to ear. “Eh?” His torso left the wall, his face right beside your ear as he whispered into it. “You want my babies, love?”

He knew your response before you could verbalize it, your clenching around him was his answer already. A deep, lengthy groan left his open mouth and you could feel his dick jump within you.

“Want me to get you pregnant?”

You could feel the warmth begin to pool between your thighs. Hobie’s cock was already leaking, his restraint broken.

“Ya tryna be my baby mama?” Hobie groaned as though it pained him.

“Fill me up, Spider.”

Your verbal consent was all Hobie ever needed. Within the next second he was emptying his balls in your pussy, just as you’d asked. It was warm and thick, and your cunt was coated in it. The pressure within you grew to be too much and your own release came soon after, mixing your cum with Hobie’s as it trickled around his dick, still pulsating within you.

Hobie released your arms, allowing your back to fall against his chest with a relaxed breath while his cock stayed buried deep inside you, ensuring none of his seed went wasted.

His lips pressed delicate kisses into your neck, your back, and shoulder with praises falling from them.

You sighed into his touch with his arms wrapped around your torso, resting gently on your lower abdomen.

Silence fell over the two of you like a warm blanket and you relished in the feeling before Hobie opened his mouth and ruined it.

“I think we should name him Lil’ Hobie-”

“Absolutely not.”

#hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #astv hobie #hobie smut #hobie brown x reader #astv smut #quintessence writes #quintessencewrites

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main-character0 · 27 days

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"I’m Better, huh?” [Pt. 1]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Seo Changbin x fem! reader (poc-coded)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ After your boyfriend of 7 months cheats on you for the second time, you ask his best friend to pick you up from the club. Little does he know, Changbin was the one you wanted all along.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ warnings: No uses of (Y/N), cursing, implied drinking, cheating (since they never really broke up lol), angst, mention of murder (IT NEVER HAPPENS), please lmk if I missed anything!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ a.n: I'm SO EXCITED to finally post this!?!?!?!? Part two will be up when the depression subsides and I start to write again lmao. also minors DNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ wc: 2.4k (2,429)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ smut warnings: none for this part!!! only making out ig??? and being naked in a shower.... you'll see ;)

“Binnie, where are you?” You groan into the phone pressed against your ear. You rub your other arm with your free hand, finally feeling the frosty air biting into your exposed skin. You rub your thighs to at least create some friction for warmth. You can see a cloud of air escaping your mouth as you sigh into the speaker of your device.

“I’m turning into the parking lot now. Do you see me?” Changbin’s voice rings through your ear, his words giving you the hint you need to look for his car now. You see the headlights before you see the sleek noir Camaro pull up to the front door of the club. You rush down the concrete stairs as fast as you can in your black one-inch heels. Changbin is already out of the car and opening the door for you.

You ungracefully clamber into the car, pulling your tight skirt down to cover more of your thighs. You observe that Changbin’s gaze rakes over your thighs once, twice before he closes the door and walks around the car. He raises a hand to the bouncer, and the man dressed in a suit returns the gesture.

Once Changbin enters the car, he shakes his head playfully, turning his head toward you. A smile plays along his lips as he fastens his seatbelt. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend’s girlfriend.” He tells you, exiting the parking lot. You watch his hands as he turned on his signal to make a right turn. “You should be saying, ‘you’re lucky we’re friends.’” You giggle, covering your mouth with a manicured hand.

He glances over at you before smirking. “I- “

Ding, ding, ding!

A beeping noise startles the both of you, and he looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Put on your seatbelt, bunny.” He commands, nodding his head toward your seatbelt. You scramble to put it on, and as the seatbelt clicks in place, you look at the man escorting you home. Your eyes turn soft as you explore his side profile with your eyes. Yet, you can’t help it as your gaze starts to trail over his arms, his pecs, his hands. Your mind starts to wander, as you imagine his pinning you up against the wall, kissing you harshly with those plush lips of his, holding your hands above your head with one large hand.

“You good?” Broke you away from your R-rated thoughts very quickly. You blink twice before nodding. “Just zoned out.” You explain. Changbin nods. You return your gaze to the road in front of you, watching as artificial lights blur together. Then, you see it. A singular drop turns into many, and they rush down the window, some merging together. In a way, it represents your relationship with your boyfriend.

One tear turns into one more, with you convincing yourself it’ll be over soon. But it never ends. They keep coming, so many of them dropping that they seem to blend, losing track of how many have fallen by now. It’s like the sun will never shine again.

You went through his phone today. He left it open on the couch as he went to get a glass of water. You guess he wasn’t expecting you to notice the constant buzzing of his phone, or perhaps he wasn’t expecting the notifications. Swiveling your head in the direction of the kitchen, you confirm he wasn’t looking, and stand up to grab his phone. You sit where he was once sitting, clicking on the most recent notification. You notice the green icon and conclude someone was texting him. Quite frequently.

Your jaw clenches as you catch a glimpse of a red heart emoji. The messages load onto the screen and tears prick at your eyes. You grip the device tighter, and your white acrylics dig into the screen.

My boo: When u comin over hun? ❤ Don't tell me ur still w/ that lil girl lmfaoo

My boo: Still can’t believe ur staying with her ong

My boo: She’s cute n all but I'm obv better

Sent 2 minutes ago

You were trembling like crazy, trying to stop yourself from murdering your boyfriend in the kitchen. This was the second time. The second time you caught your boyfriend cheating. The first time, your girlfriend sent you a bunch of sobbing emojis and a picture of your significant other holding hands with a coworker. They were walking down the busy streets of the bustling city you lived near.

You confronted him about it, close to leaving, but his begging stopped you from leaving all those months ago. You wondered if it was the same girl from the picture. You heard an obnoxious yawn approaching the living room, so you hastily locked his phone and threw it to the side.

“Imma be leaving here in a minute. I’ll be back soon.” He mumbled, stretching his arms over his head. You nodded silently, not a word falling from your lips. He took that as your approval and left to your shared room. You sat on the couch for a few more minutes, and stayed there, even after he kissed your cheek as a goodbye. Does he kiss her with those same lips? The same lips that used to say, ‘you’re my only’ to you?

Then, it hit you. You’re not worth shit to him. He’ll never care about you like he used to, when you were the only one. Were you ever the only one? You stood up hastily and rushed to your room.

You were gonna get drunk tonight. And you were gonna forget about that son of a bitch.

Yet, here you are, reminiscing about what had happened this afternoon. “Bin, I need to tell you something.” You whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. You look down at your thighs, and your sorrow runs down your face and drops onto your leather skirt. You attempt to wipe away said tears, but they just won’t stop. Like the rain, you so long to feel on your face, masking your troubles.

It seems as if Changbin had noticed your tears and promptly said, “We’re going to my place.”

☂‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

You clutch a pillow to your chest as you explain what you had seen on your boyfriend’s phone. As you continue to speak, it seems as if he gets angrier the more he processes what you’re saying. “Fuck. I’ll kill him.” He grits out, clenching his fists. The veins in his arms become more prominent as he does that, and it kills you to not tell him how you’ve felt all this time. “Don’t. It’ll just make things worse.” You say wearily, burying your head into the white throw pillow. You hear the man hosting you sigh before you feel a drop on the couch next to you. You lift your head to look at him properly, but he’s already embracing you.

You gasp softly, genuinely surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for Changbin to hug you like this, but due to the situation, it was unexpected. Your nose wrinkles up as you turn to hug him back, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. You sob into his shoulder, and he rubs soothing circles on your lower back. He easily maneuvers you onto his lap, his hands running up and down your sides.

Once your sobbing dies down to little hiccups, you pull your head away from the junction of his neck and shoulder. Your mascara is running down your face in black streaks, and you spot black pigment on his neck as well. Changbin stares deeply into your eyes, his hands still rubbing your waist. He glances at your lips, silently asking for permission.

You bite your lip as he moves his hands to your plush thighs, once again sliding his hands back and forth. After a moment and you don’t answer, he asks out loud. “Can I kiss you?”

You answer by gently yet firmly pressing your lips against his. It feels as if coals are rolling down your throat as you kiss him, and those coals drop into your stomach and become warmer. It’s as if the metaphorical coals are being ignited by your passion for one another, and after being held back for so long, have since stored more and more heat.

Changbin’s tongue prods against your lips, and you open your mouth slightly against his, so he can explore your mouth slowly but surely. You moan softly as you kiss sloppily, all tongue battling and teeth clacking. After a few moments, you reluctantly pull away from his soft lips. Your eyes are half-lidded, and your lips are swollen. The bold red lipstick you wore was smudged on your chin and the corners of your lips.

“Binnie,” you pant. “Can I wash up? I kinda look...uh...” “Stunning?” He finishes your sentence for you. Even though you were the tipsy one, he seemed drunk of your affection. As if he’s been craving it for a while now. Like you. So why stop now? Well, you didn’t want to look like a total hobo in front of Changbin. “Stunning?” You repeat, giggling. “Well, thanks but I think I want to wash up, if that’s okay.” You say, gazing into his coffee-tinted eyes. He nods automatically, then shifts under you giving you the impression he wants you to get up. You move your weight off him and stand up, once again fixing your skirt.

Changbin starts walking in the direction of his hallway, and you follow him dutifully. He leads you to a large bedroom, cozy enough for you to think it’s Changbin’s room and not a guest room. “You can use my bathroom. I’ll go grab some towels and a washcloth.” He smiles at you, before walking out of the room. You sit down on the bed, waiting for his return. You take in the decorations of his room leisurely, appreciating the 2Pac posters and large computer setup. Maybe for smaller music production jobs? He probably has a larger desk at his workplace.

Changbin walks back into the bedroom holding a white, soft-looking towel and a similar-looking washcloth. You thank him as he hands you the cloth. “You can use my soap.” He tells you as you walk into the bathroom. You hold up a thumbs up without turning around and shut the door behind you. You decide against locking it because you trust him. More than you realized.

Only when you step under the steady flow of warm water, ridding your face of the semi-natural makeup, do you start to confront your possible feelings for the man whose shower you were in. Did you like him? He was always a bit too touchy with you. At the time, you were madly in love with your boyfriend. You need to call things off with him, and soon. You’ll only suffer more if you stay with him. Changbin, on the other hand, is probably the best choice for you. He’s humble, loyal, funny, handsome, ripped as fuck, and super sweet. You can honestly see an amazing future with him.

As you scrub the remnants of the night from your skin with Changbin’s alpine sage soap, you begin to think deeper into your life with him. A small child, maybe two, running around the kitchen as Changbin softly scolds them for causing so much ruckus as mom tries to cook dinner. You giggle and wave a hand dismissively, assuring him it’s okay. He walks up behind you, wrapping two beefy arms around your middle and kissing your neck. “I love you,” he would whisper.

A heavy knock on the door startles you thoroughly. You squeeze the soap a bit too hard in your fright, and it practically jumps out of your hands. The bar hits the floor of the shower with a loud clatter, and you hear Changbin make an alarmed noise. “Bunny?!” He calls, just loud enough to carry through the wooden door. In your scurry to grab the soap without getting your hair wet, you forget to answer the distressed man. “I’m coming in!” He declares, shoving the door open aggressively. You only notice that he opened the door after you stood up, clutching the soap that got you into this mess in the first place.

You glance at the door, which is now allowing a gust of cool air to flow into the humid bathroom. Blocking most of the doorframe in girth, not height, is the person you were just fantasizing about. He’s staring at you, way too hard. A vein is popping out of his neck and he’s trembling. But the weirdest thing is the pink flush on his cheeks. It does not occur to you to cover your intimates as your gaze trails lower and lower.

He’s hard.

You can see the outline of his dick in his gray sweatpants, and damn, does he look big. He clears his throat, and you look back into his dark brown hues. He is biting his lip, yet his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he’s fighting himself. There’s a lustful glint in his eye, and he looks just about ready to jump in that shower with you. Your mind clouds with the thought that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do. So, with all the confidence your body can muster, you lift your hand up and simply beckon him over with a finger.

His body sprang into action, like he was waiting for you to give him any hint you want him on you. He shucks his clothes off in record time and slides open the glass door to step in the shower with you. You back up into the shower’s wall, the cool bite of the tile reminding you of just a few hours ago how the cool gust of winter air blanketed you. Only an endless display of a dark parking lot, and nothing on your mind. Comparing that moment to now would be like comparing ice and fire. Stark contrasts to each other. Now, your skin was burning, and thoughts were running laps around your brain.

Changbin’s eyes lock on yours, the water pouring from the shower head flattening his curly hair. You reach your hand up to push his charcoal hair off his forehead so you can see his eyes better. His larger hand follows yours, and places itself on your own.

“Do you want this?” he asks, running his thumb across your knuckles. He kisses your palm once, twice, waiting for you to answer.

#changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #seo changbin #stray kids #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #FIRST FIC ON HERE YIPPEE

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fishsticksloser · 9 months

Note

Could you do a Pav x Reader where Reader always has their mouth on Pav when they cuddle, he doesn't know why u til one day reader goes CRONCH

Bitey!Reader

Spiderverse x gn!reader

Warnings: fluff, biting, some suggestive themes but nothing explicit

A/N: I decided to do all of them because... Brain rot. I couldn't stop thinking about everyone else as well as Pav. Another late post...

Miles

He's not a biter

Well...

Sometimes he bites, but more if you ask him to

He doesn't do it on his own accord

He's not really a fan of being bitten

But you like it so he puts up with it

Though Mikes does ask you to cool it a little in you're in public or something

He prefers you biting places like his arm or shoulder

It keeps his hands free so he can continue drawing but allows you to bite if you want

Pav

Bite all you want

He's not much of a biter, but will never say no to you

He'll let you bite wherever too

Pav doesn't really mind

Maybe just not in public, but you've never really done it

But beware, Pav will bite back at some point

And he does occasionally

Normally he bites your cheek or neck

But has been known to bit the back of your hand when you're holding his

Gwen

Not a biter

Won't even bite if you ask/beg

Doesn't like that you bite either

The first time you bit her she smacked you

She thought you were trying to fight or something

But occasionally let's you bite

She's just not a big fan of it

Sorry 🤷‍♀️

Noir

Personal headcanon that Noir and Hobie have sharp canines

So you better believe this man likes to bite you

He loves biting your neck the most

Grazing his teeth against you skin

Leaves marks but only where they can't be seen, he's a gentleman of course

So by all means, bite him

Loves his neck and chest being bit

The first time you did it, he was stunned

Peter had to sit there for a minute and just cool off

Than attacked you so...

Hobie

Like I said above, mans got sharp canines

So he absolutely bites

Loves biting your neck, chest, stomach, thighs, ass

Hobie loves biting everywhere, all the soft skin

You better believe he leaves marks

Deep purple and blues

Absolutely wants to have marks on him too

You start biting his neck?

Terrific, but not his favorite place

No, his favorite place to be but is his hips and waist

You start that and he's gone

Miguel

Prefers to be bitten than to bite

His fangs have paralytic venom so he doesn't want to hurt you

I'm going with comic version for his extra bits (like fangs, claws, and spinnerets)

He can't retract them, so he tries to never bite you

Does he want to?

God yes, he wants to bite you so bad

But he's terrified of paralysing you

So bite him to your heart's content

Definitely enjoys his pecs and abs being bit more than anything, but he'll take what he can get

Peter B.

Peter is a bit iffy on biting

Sure he enjoyed it, but only in the bedroom

Did he stop you from biting him other times? No

But he doesn't really react unless he's in the mood

He'll bite sometimes but prefers to leave it for you

But when he gets going, he'll bite wherever you want

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fairytail-whathesays · 5 months

Note

Please may I have Fairy tail Gray x Lucy headcanons?

Lucy doesn't often say this but Gray probably has Lucy's favorite form of magic in Fairy Tail besides her own. She very much agrees with Erza's assessment of Gray's Ice Make as being a very beautiful form of magic.

Gray is pretty much what Lucy envisions when she pictures "ideal boyfriend" and it takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize it. She probably would've started dating him sooner were it not for a certain Juvia-shaped deterrent. Likewise, it's canon that Gray is attracted to Lucy.

Gray is actually very fond of Lucy's writing, and it gets him started reading more than he ever did before. He wants to be able to know what Lucy's talking about when she starts going off on some spiel about her favorite book series of the week...and it works.

Lucy's favorite genre is romance, while Gray favors murder mysteries. They meet in the middle with the noir genre, which both of them enjoy.

Gray's stripping habit has, over the course of the series, cooled down into more of a simple shirtlessness habit (probably helped by the existence of belts). Lucy is hopeful that with a little more time, they can axe it completely. She's far and away used to it by now, of course, and that's not to say she necessarily dislikes it...

We've all seen how Lucy gets when the topic of guys comes up, especially the potential of dating one--she's shy, nervous, dithering, and overthinks, but in the end she cleans up nice and puts her best effort in. What she doesn't know is that Gray kind of goes through the same thing, endlessly back-and-forth-ing about what to wear, what to say, how to behave, and worrying how he'll come off and what to do...but they meet up and their first date goes very smoothly.

It takes a long time for Gray and Lucy to actually touch each other, and I don't necessarily mean biblically. They just aren't super touchy-feely by nature and it takes a minute for them to get comfortable enough with each other that Lucy does things like hold his hand or lean against his shoulder, or that Gray gets an arm around her shoulder or waist.

It's a little bit of a surprise for both of them--Lucy barely notices Gray's shirtlessness most of the time, but when she accidentally brushes against his waist after they become an item, suddenly she's hyper-aware of his half nakedness. Likewise, Gray's eyed Lucy up before, but he's suddenly very aware of how ungentlemanly it is once he's actually dating her. They're both shy and it's cute.

Lucy has never had a boyfriend before Gray--but Gray has had exactly one (1) girlfriend before. It was Cana, and they dated for a very short time. Surprisingly, this ends up not causing the friction Lucy thought it would, and Cana ends up being a great wingman and source of info on all Gray's behaviors and likes for Lucy's benefit.

Similarly, Gray goes to Levy and Erza when he needs advice on Lucy, since they know her best. Both of them are very happy to see Lucy with someone reliable and honest like him.

Said it before, I'll say it again, these two are one of the few that would actually work as a marriage. Lucy doesn't even need to consider it for a moment when he proposes, she says yes almost before he's finished the question.

Between Gray's wizarding work and Lucy's book sales, they're able to save up enough to go on their first vacation together relatively early. Gray takes her to Bellum, the homeland of Ur and where he studied Ice Make under her after Deliora destroyed Isvan. It's a nice time for both of them.

NS/FW:

Gray really unlocks Lucy's explorative side, because wow, she's never had a guy intimately before...and there's no better person to explore with than Gray. His gentle and curious style of sex matches up well with her inexperience and shyness.

Lucy discovers a lot that she likes about Gray's body. Her favorite parts of him are, in order, his collar, his waist, his back, and his pecs. Gray's never been viewed as a sexual entity before save for Juvia, and that much always made it uncomfortable, but Gray gains a new appreciation for his body and starts to enjoy feeling attractive.

They have remarkably good luck since it was ages before either of them remembered condoms were probably a good idea. No early pregnancies.

Gray held Lucy's hand all night after their first time.

Gray's lap is always open for Lucy, usually in private but maybe sometimes in public too when they're clubbing or just feeling possessive of one another.

Lucy can and will go out wearing Gray's clothes the morning after--his jeans included. Gray encourages it, since he's fine being naked anyway, although he usually restricts himself to Lucy's house until she comes home. Usually.

#theletterhorrorlover #graylu #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #shipping #headcanons

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myoldboyfriends · 1 month

Text

Nathaniel Noir

#buns #pecs #nathaniel noir #nathanielnoir #athleticism #vids

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training4theapocalypse · 7 months

Text

Finders Keepers Ch 14. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: SMUT, Face-fucking, Oral Sex (M and F receiving), Domestic fluff.

Summary: You welcome some new arrivals to the D.A. Headquarters - some expected and some less so.

A/N: YOU get a cameo, YOU get a cameo, YOU get a cameo. Everyone who went to Hogwarts gets a cameo.

Masterlist

tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 14: Preparations

You wake up with a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your body. Not caused by fear - now that you have a plan, the memories of Azkaban have temporarily stopped plaguing your dreams - but nerves. Today’s the day. The day that everyone you could trust with a broom was coming to Seafarer’s Beacon.

Dawn leaks through the portholes of the lighthouse, illuminating your bedroom in a soft haze. Every day the colours have been different - as the mornings become colder and later, the light becomes less saturated. This light is a rare sight for an October morning, you think, as the orange glow seeps into the room. It’s far from unpleasant but you turn to the broad figure lying on his side, his breath making his shoulders rise and fall gently as he faces away from you, and scoot in closer, shielding your face from the light.

You slip your hand through the gap between McLaggen’s arm and his body, pulling yourself as close as you can to his muscular back. In the dawn sunlight, you can see his freckled shoulders up close. You try to resist the urge to kiss them all in case you wake him up. Well... maybe just one. Or two. Or three.

“You’re so annoying in the morning,” he grumbles as your lips trail across his shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m too nervous,” you whisper.

He inhales sharply and rolls over. The sun illuminates his messy, curly, bed hair like a golden halo. “It’s today,” he says, realisation sinking in as he opens one bleary eye. “What time is it?”

“Sunrise.”

McLaggen groans and pulls you to his chest. His arms feel tired and heavy wrapped around you. “You’re about fourteen hours too early.”

“McLaggen,” you say, your face pressed against his pecs. “You’re squishing me.”

He closes his eyes and yawns as his arms refuse to release you. “A small price to pay for waking me up at the crack of dawn.”

You wriggle slightly, finding air between the pillow and the crook of his neck but he doesn’t let go.

You don’t mind.

You don’t mind one bit.

You like the feeling of his arms around you - an impenetrable fortress to prevent you from leaving the bed. He nuzzles into you, his morning stubble brushing against your temple.

“Do you want breakfast?” you whisper, feeling wide awake.

“Too early,” he mumbles.

“I might practise my Patronus in the garden. I’m this close to getting the hang of it.”

“No,” he says grumpily, refusing to let you go.

“You could come with me? Watch the sunrise?”

“No,” he repeats firmly and pulls you tighter to him still. Your leg slides between his and you feel a hard bulge against your thigh through the thin fabric of his boxers. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure you’re not awake? I could take care of this…” You ask, slipping your hands between your bodies. His erection twitches when your fingers lightly graze him.

“It just happens in the mornings.”

“I know, I know,” you say, lifting your head and sucking sweetly on his earlobe. “But I can still take care of it for you.” His slow, sleepy breathing pauses for a second as your fingertips stroke him through his boxers. “...You wouldn’t even need to open your eyes,” you murmur, tempting him.

“Fuck,” he breathes and his grip loosens on you purposefully - just enough so you can wriggle under the sheets, kissing his abdomen as you go.

McLaggen always smells good in the morning wrapped up in your duvet. Warm. Comforting. Like musk and laundered linen. He remains on lying his side as your lips find his cock in his boxers, pressed up against his stomach. Being so intimately isolated under the sheets makes colour rise in your cheeks and your core tighten. You caress him and run your lips over the fabric.

When you pull his boxers down and the second you run your tongue from his base to tip, Cormac groans - a tired, wistful groan like he’s having a pleasant dream. But you intend to make it feel more like a wet dream. A sopping wet one, you think, as warmth leaks from your pussy.

His thigh muscles tense when you wrap your lips around his length and swallow as much of him as you can. Cormac moves his hips slightly into your hot mouth but pauses waiting for your reaction, making sure he’s not suffocating you. Instead, you grab the back of his muscular thigh in encouragement, pushing your face into the mound of soft, trimmed hair and feeling the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat.

He keeps moving his hips lazily, sliding his cock in and out of your mouth as your tongue works, rolling around the underside of his length. You don’t even need to move your head in time with his movement.

You pull his thigh up so he’s pinning your shoulder and moan around him as you lie on your back so he can gently move in and out of your mouth. Your eyes water. It would be overwhelming if he wasn’t trying so hard to restrain himself and not gag you.

Your clit throbs as the thought of him choking you with his cock forms in your mind. You realise how badly you want him to lose himself - that you want him to fuck your mouth like you’re just a warm, wet hole for him to wake up to. You could happily die here, suffocated to death underneath his thigh.

You grip onto his backside and force his cock deeper down your throat and his muffled whimper tells you that he’s burying his face into your pillow. It drives you wild thinking about him trying so hard to keep himself under control - forcing himself to hold back. You respond by sucking and swirling your tongue, tilting your head back as much as the restricted position allows. You pull tighter still, bringing his hips into your face until you gag.

“You alright?” Cormac pauses when he hears you struggle but you make an irritated “mmmhm”, noise around his cock and refuse to let him pull out. There’s no stopping you. He lets out an agonising, strangled noise and much to your own satisfaction, you feel him surrender to his desires.

The contrast of the beautiful, romantic light in the room as he holds on tight to your pillow, sinking his face in the lingering scent of your shampoo and the obscene, wet, sloppy noises you’re making under the duvet stirs something in him.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly, tensing everything in his lower half as you take him further.

He pushes himself down deeper into your throat. You can’t move anymore - all you can do is lie there and take it as he starts thrusting his hips. He’s so devastatingly overpowering - every one of your senses is taken over by him. All you can hear, see, touch, taste and smell is McLaggen fucking your face.

You grip onto him through watering eyes for dear life.

“Oh, fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna -” he whines into the pillow and you hum in encouragement, the vibrations in your mouth and throat send him over the edge and with a final, shuddering drive of his hips pressing up against your face, you feel his thighs tense and his cock throbbing against your tongue.

Cormac groans and hunches his body, breathing heavily into the fluffy down of the pillow as he empties himself down your throat. You swallow quickly and slip his cock out of your mouth, gasping for air.

“Are you okay?” he asks quickly, raising his head and pulling the sheets back so cool air hits your flushed face. He hadn’t expected to see you looking so irresistibly messy. A gorgeous, dishevelled look on your face as your lips glisten with saliva and his soaked cock pressed up against your cheek.

“Yeah.” You take a calm, deep breath and drag yourself back up to lie on your pillow.

Cormac props himself up on his elbow to look down at you. He combs wet strands of hair out of your face with his fingers and brushes a tear from your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re so pretty.”

You chew your bottom lip. You don’t feel pretty. And it’s not to do with your current state after sucking Cormac’s cock.

When Sirius Black escaped Azkaban all those years ago and his photograph was plastered over The Daily Prophet, you thought he had a grim, haunted look on what you could tell was a previously handsome face. You remember thinking that maybe committing the atrocities he was arrested for had tarnished his looks - a darkness that had consumed him so visibly from the inside out.

Then it was announced he was innocent after all. And now, you realise, the darkness that was apparent on his face wasn’t from committing any crime but from being in Azkaban itself.

And although you had only spent two months in Azkaban, you could see shadows of the same hollow look on your own face every time you looked in the mirror.

“I never thought I’d get to wake up next to your beautiful face again,” he says, his bright green eyes full of concern as they take in your worried expression.

“It feels like a different face now.” You look down at your tank top and underwear as you lie here, spread out on the mattress next to him. “Different body too.”

You know he’s thinking something. You wait to hear his opinion. McLaggen’s a lot of things but he’s no liar. You know he’ll tell it like it is.

“Different doesn’t mean worse,” he says softly, running his fingertips down and across your collarbone. “In an ideal world, if this war ever ends, I want us to grow old together. And we’ll both look different.” He smirks. “Unless you decide to leave me when I start going grey.”

“Well, you’re going to be a total DILF. I’ve seen your dad, remember?”

His dad. Cormac exhales through his nose in amusement at your slip-up and gives you a small smile.

You’ve already forgiven Mr McLaggen after he risked so much to get you out of Azkaban but Cormac has been more stubborn. Once the Daily Prophet had confirmed that McLaggen’s dad hadn’t been arrested and was in fact leading the manhunt for you, Cormac and the rest of the D.A., he hadn’t mentioned his dad at all. You both knew Mr McLaggen couldn’t dare contact him without fear of messages being intercepted.

He doesn’t say anything about his dad. It’s still a sore spot. Instead, his warm hand pauses and rests on your stomach. “Well, if we ever have children of our own… lots would change.”

You watch his hand on your stomach rising and falling as you breathe, understanding his meaning.

“Do you… would you want that? Kids, I mean?” You look up and meet his gaze again and he nods.

“Yeah, you?”

“Not with everything that’s going on right now. But maybe one day…”

And for the first time ever, you can see it so clearly in your mind’s eye - you and McLaggen chasing after a tiny toddler on a broomstick, zig-zagging all over the place like the miniature version of him in his framed photo on his bedside table.

You grin. “Actually, fuck it, we could have so many that we could start our own Quidditch Team.”

He laughs. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“And I suppose we’d have some tough decisions to make.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, which national team would they play for?”

“England, obviously.”

“No way.” You wrinkle your nose. “I can’t believe you’re already turning the kids against me.”

Cormac chuckles and leans down to kiss you. When you think about your future with him, you’re barely able to think two steps ahead. But he has it all planned out. Even at Hogwarts, he was quietly making plans in his head about what was next for the two of you.

As his tongue slides against your lips, opening your mouth for him, his hand on your stomach moves down and slips into your underwear. It’s an unexpected surprise after your tender moment but you’re ready for it all the same - still soaking wet from sucking his dick.

Cormac drags two fingers along your slick folds and drags your wetness up and over your clit. He presses the rough pads of his fingertips against you in tiny circles.

When he pulls back from the kiss, he draws his tongue along the side of your neck while his hand still works between your legs. A moan escapes your lips louder than you had intended.

“Shit.” You stretch your arm out, finding his dad’s borrowed wand on your bedside table. You look at the door and point the wand. “Muffliato,” you whisper and the low buzzing of white noise hums around the bedroom door. You can feel yourself squirming already underneath him, chasing the impending high. “It’s - it’s early. I don’t want to - fuck - I don’t want to wake anyone up.”

“Anyone else, you mean?” he smirks as his fingers that were toying with your clit slip between your slick folds and penetrate you.

“I’m not sorry,” you pant needily, grinding into his palm as his fingers curl into your soft walls. “Not if this is what happens when I wake you up early.”

You feel the deep stretch of his fingers inside your cunt as he pushes against your g-spot - those thick fingers that were just made for being a Keeper tapping firmly right where you need them.

“I’m just rewarding bad behaviour right now, aren’t I?” He tuts, watching you arch your back so he can press deeper. “I should really stop.”

“Please, Cormac,” you whimper and his eyes light up wickedly when he sees the anguished expression on your face. “I’ll - I’ll be good. Just don’t stop.”

Cormac tilts his head thoughtfully and withdraws his fingers to brush over your clit again. “See, I don’t think so. Nobody’s going to be awake for hours. I could spend the whole morning making you beg until you cry and nobody would have any idea.”

“You - you wouldn’t,” you pant. You lift your hips trying to feel the pressure of his fingers again but his reflexes are too quick. He lifts his hand in sync so the pads of his fingers are barely grazing your throbbing clit.

He clicks his tongue in admonishment. “Yeah… No, I think I will, actually.”

You whine when his hand leaves your underwear to pull your top off. He crawls on top of you, and despite your complaining and pushing on his shoulders, he ignores the searing heat below your waist and turns his attention to your chest. Cormac runs his tongue along the underside of your breast and finds your nipple, sucking on the hard nub of sensitive skin and gently rolling it between his teeth.

His mouth feels heavenly on your skin but fuck, why is he insistent on drawing this out? Breaking you apart piece by piece.

While he’s preoccupied, you slip your hand between your legs and slide your index finger across your poor, neglected clit. You chase the sensation, feeling yourself start to tighten down around nothing.

Cormac pulls back to move to your other nipple but stops when he sees your hand between your legs.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do I have to put you in a body bind curse or are you going to behave?”

You quickly withdraw your hand.

He ignores you. “Because I will.” He glances at his wand on the bedside table. “I’m not even sure if you’ll be able to cum if you can’t squeeze -”

“No,” you say abruptly. “No magic. Just you. Please. I’ll stop.”

“Good girl,” he says before moving down the mattress, placing light, barely-there kisses down your abdomen as he yanks your underwear down. Cormac pauses, his lips hovering inches above your swollen clit. You’re so pent up that the feeling of his breath is almost like stimulation on the throbbing clutch of nerves.

He lets out a heavy sigh and you whine impatiently, desperate to feel his tongue against you. You’re so fucking wet that you can feel an embarrassingly damp patch under you on the bedsheets.

“God, you have such a pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he asks, running his middle and index fingers down your glistening wet lips, taking care not to touch your clit. He knows you so intimately by now but you still blush furiously when he looks at you like this.

“Cormac,” you sob, trying to keep your hips planted firmly on the mattress when all you want to do is buck upwards and have him take you into his mouth. You know that any impulsive movements will only prolong this torture he’s putting you through. You run your fingers through your hair, just to give your hands something to do that isn’t pressing his face into you.

“My poor baby…” he pouts, watching you intently as you throw your head back, trying your damnest not to look at him, your fingers grappling your scalp as if clinging onto your own sanity. “Hey, c’mon. Keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs, his stubble pushed against the flesh of your inner thigh.

“I - I can’t,” you wail at the ceiling. He’s so stupidly hot - you can’t bear to see him there between your legs in this state. Using both his hands, he pulls your hips closer, his blunt nail digging little crescent moon-shaped grooves into your skin.

“Yeah, you can.” His hot breath fans against your pussy. “You will or this stops.” You tear your eyes from the ceiling and look down just in time to see his jaw fall open and his wet, pink tongue draw a stripe along your entrance. Cormac laps up your juices, using the flat of his tongue to taste your arousal flooding his mouth. You writhe when his nose presses against your clit as he buries his tongue between your folds, fucking your entrance.

The way your legs tremble on either side of his head and the way your hips squirm under his face gives him an ego boost. He loves it when you’re pliable for him like this. So eager and willing to do whatever he says just so you can feel his touch.

You’re exactly where he wants you. Grateful to him. Begging for him.

“Do you want me to touch you here again?” he asks, teasing you with his fingertips, barely entering your soft, wet folds.

Your stuttered breath catches in your throat. “Y-yes.”

“‘Yes’ what?”

“Please, Cormac,” you beg. “Pleasepleaseplease -”

Cormac closes his lips over your clit and you cry a garbled mess of words.

Oh fuck, everything burns and tightens when he sucks on your throbbing clit, swirling his velvet tongue around in circles. Heat sears through your entire body. Your walls twitch - fuck you need something to clamp around.

And then, as if reading your mind, - pressure.

Cormac’s fingers slide into you and curl up, stroking against your G-spot. You wail - a gut-wrenching, primal sob that makes you glad that you cast a sound concealment charm - as molten pleasure shoots through your body.

“That’s it. Let it out. Cum for me.”

You feel so weak that you can’t even grind yourself against his mouth. All you can do is lie there and ride out the wave as he expertly makes you unravel.

It’s chaos. It’s wonderful.

“Oh god,” you wail as your orgasm makes every pent-up nerve ending in your body explode in ecstasy.

When your pussy stops contracting and convulsing around his thick fingers, he removes his mouth and looks up at you with that arrogant smirk that lets you know that he knows what his touch does to you.

He slowly withdraws his fingers from you and crawls up your body to kiss your lips. You smile against his mouth, tasting your arousal on his lips.

“You dickhead,” you laugh. “I hate you.”

“Oh, yeah?” His arms scoop under your shoulder blades and your brain doesn’t even have time to catch up when he rolls over, pulling you on top of him. “You love me,” he murmurs into your ear, squeezing you tight against his muscular frame.

“I do,” you tell the crook of his neck, feeling your heartbeat still pounding against his.

You lie there with your eyes shut, feeling his warm skin under yours. Even the way you fit around each others’ bodies feels perfect as you slump against him. You could easily fall asleep again like this.

“Come on, then. Let’s get up,” he says.

“No, you were right. We should go back to sleep.”

“I’m awake now.” He stifles a yawn unconvincingly. “Besides, you really need to work on… work on producing a Patronus.”

You inhale his warm, comforting scent and let out a deep sigh. “Just five more minutes. Please.”

His hands find the duvet and he pulls it over your exposed back, cocooning the two of you in the cosy fabric.

“Five minutes,” he whispers, his slow breathing in sync with yours as you both drift off again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours after sunset, after McLaggen has sent his German Sheperd Patronus to Azkaban to keep Eddie company, you, McLaggen, Katie, Cho and Leanne stand on the dark cliffside on tenterhooks as the cool October wind whips your faces. Nerves crack silently between you, none of you daring to speak as you stand and wait for your new arrivals.

There’s a cracking like a whip in the night and Marietta Edgecombe apparates a few yards away.

“Marietta!” cries Cho and the two of you rush over to embrace her.

“You didn’t fly here?” you ask when you’ve finally released her.

“From London?! God, no,” says Marietta, twisting her broom handle in her hands. “I - I’m still not sure about this guys. I’m really rusty on a broom.”

“We’ve got all day tomorrow to practice,” you reassure her. “Just within the boundaries of the Fideleus Charm but you’ll pick it up. It’s like riding a bike - you never forget.”

Marietta’s face drops. “I can’t ride a bike either,” she whispers.

You understand her anxiety. She’s risked a lot to be here - by all accounts, she was safe in her ministry job. But now she’s joined you at headquarters, effectively exiling herself from both the Ministry and her mother by going into hiding. On top of all that, now she has to ride a broom across the perilous North Sea on a dangerous mission to Azkaban.

“You can do it. For Eddie,” you look at her sincerely and she gulps.

“Look, there!” says Leanne, and the five of you whip around to look out over the English Channel.

You had expected your international arrival to arrive later. You squint into the darkness.

Or were those arrivals?

As the two figures get closer, you recognise Rodger Davies’ square, broad figure pressed tight to his broom as he speeds towards you. Your stomach twists. Who is with him? The plan required as many people as you could muster but the last thing you needed was an unwelcome surprise.

“Oh my god…” says Cho.

“Is that -?” says Katie.

“It’s Krum,” says McLaggen, looking slightly star-struck. “It’s Viktor Krum.”

Davies and Krum touch down on the clifftop as the five of you stare in stunned silence. You pull yourself together, mustering all the authority you can. It’s like the day before a big Quidditch game - you know that you need to get the team on-side and make sure they have confidence in the plan. That they don’t see you waver.

“Captain,” you say, grasping Davies’ hand.

“I hear that’s what they call you now,” he smiles.

“If they know what’s good for them.”

He pulls you into a hug and slaps your back but you cling onto him tight.

“What the fuck is Viktor Krum doing here?” you hiss in his ear through gritted teeth so the others can’t hear.

“You can trust him. I promise,” whispers Davies. “He’s a decent bloke.”

You want to believe him. When you were only thirteen he put his trust in you and made you Raveclaw Keeper. Even though the stakes are much, much higher, now it’s your turn to trust him.

“If he gets us caught I’ll kill you.”

“I don’t doubt it.” You let him pull back from your embrace and he grins. “Good to see you, Keeps.”

“You too… and you brought Viktor Krum?” You smile at his companion, pretending like you’ve just noticed him.

“Vell, the Quiddith season has been halted and I vos not doing anything else,” he shrugs. “And besides, I like Britain. Lyon is too hot.”

“McLaggen, why don��t you take the boys back to headquarters? We’ll wait here for Wood.”

“You’ve got the wands?” McLaggen asks Davies who nods and lifts his shoulder, shrugging the bag slung over it. “Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Rodger did not tell me ve vould be staying with a group of such nice-looking girls,” says Krum, when McLaggen closes the lighthouse door behind them.

“Yeah, well don’t look too hard at Keeps, she’s -” starts Davies.

“My girlfriend,” finishes McLaggen firmly, drawing his shoulders back as he walks over to the pantry.

“Oh? I thought she was going out with Alicia?” asks Davies.

McLaggen shakes his head and finds a few cases of ale that his Uncle had left. “Not for a while now.”

“Crikey, I didn’t know she was into blokes.”

McLaggen tries to keep his face neutral. He knew from the way Katie and Leanne had banged on about Davies at school that he was a good-looking guy. McLaggen had eyes too, obviously but there was clearly something about him that girls liked. He’d managed to pull Fleur Delacour at the Yule Ball, after all.

And he knew you admired Davies. Even revered him for giving you a shot in the Ravenclaw Team. He didn't miss the extended hug you gave Davies when he arrived.

But now McLaggen wonders if Davies, like some of the boys who knew you in school, had just thought you weren’t worth pursuing because they had assumed you were gay.

“So how’d you manage that one?” chuckles Davies, as McLaggen hands him a bottle of ale.

“It’s not really any of your business, Davies,” says McLaggen firmly. Davies doesn’t look offended - he just holds up his hands in apology.

“Sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just - I’m surprised.”

“Is this the bossy one?” interjects Krum, accepting a drink from McLaggen.

“Yeah, that one,” laughs McLaggen but he bristles slightly hearing Davies laugh too. Like Davies thinks he knows you as well as he does. He tries to suppress the small pang of jealousy inside him. It’s the day before you’re all supposed to be working together as a team. He had to keep things friendly.

Krum stands at the window sipping his drink, looking out thoughtfully. “And the other girls?”

“Single. Except Marietta, I think.”

“This is good.”

“Come off it. Like it’s hard for famous Quidditch players to pull?” asks McLaggen, not quite forgetting that Davies probably falls into that category too these days.

“You vould be surprised,” grumbles Krum, furrowing his thick eyebrows together as he sits down at the table.

The three of them make small talk about Quidditch until a few moments later, the front door opens into the kitchen and in spill the newest guests. McLaggen looks up scanning the faces. Cho, Marietta, Katie and Leanne. He grins when he sees they’re followed by his old Gryffindor housemates Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnston followed by you and -

Alicia Spinnett.

Viktor Krum’s surprise arrival was one thing but this is entirely different.

Your ex-girlfriend was not supposed to be part of the delegation arriving here with Wood and Angelina.

McLaggen had spent enough time with Alicia in Gryffindor and in the D.A. to have no concerns about either her flying or her ability to carry out the mission. But he didn’t like the idea of Alicia living here in close proximity to you. Especially when it was she who had broken up with you.

“McLaggen!” says Wood cheerily and McLaggen gets up to shake his hand. “Angelina told me you never replaced me as keeper when I left Hogwarts. What happened there, mate?”

“I had to make do with Weasley after Cormac ate a pound of doxy eggs for a bet and ended up in the hospital wing right before tryouts,” scolds Angelina playfully, pulling McLaggen in for a hug and punching his shoulder.

“Ah, well. We still won the cup without him,” says Alicia. “You alright, Cormac?”

“Yeah - yeah, you managed without me,” says McLaggen breezily, rearranging his face from a slight scowl into a smile before letting Alicia give him a quick hug.

“Barely. The last thing Wood told me before he left was that you were his preferred choice,” says Angelina as Wood claps McLaggen in commiseration on the shoulder.

“All in the past now,” shrugs McLaggen, rather wishing that his dismal school Quidditch career and a few other things from that era had remained in the past. “Who wants an ale? Or we’ve got beer somewhere.”

“You’re giving everyone alcohol?” comes a voice from his other side and he turns to see you with your arms crossed, giving him a stern look.

“Shouldn’t I? They’ve come a long way to be here.”

“Right, you lot - ” You address the room and they quieten down. “- one drink maximum. I want everyone to have an early night tonight and clear heads tomorrow.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” nods Davies giving you a quick, two-fingered salute and you beam at him. McLaggen narrows his eyes. Great, now Davies is in the good books, he thinks to himself.

“Wait, why is she the Captain?” asks Wood and Angelina elbows him in the ribs.

“She just is, Wood,” says Alicia rolling her eyes. McLaggen’s lips tighten. Alicia didn’t even go to Hogwarts when you were the Ravenclaw Captain - why is she so keen to call you that?

“You all know why you’re here - you’re the best fliers we know. Some of you are world-class -” you nod to Krum who tilts his bottle towards you, pleased at the special acknowledgement. “And we need your help freeing innocent muggleborns from Azkaban.”

Using McLaggen’s dad’s wand, you conjure a large piece of parchment that spreads itself across the large table.

“So listen up. Here’s the plan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When McLaggen has shown everyone their rooms, you look up from clearing the kitchen table as he descends the spiral staircase. It’ll be a tighter squeeze than planned with your extra additions having to bunk up together but nothing unmanageable for just a couple of nights.

“Everyone settled in then?”

“Yep,” he says, a little more shortly than you’d expected.

You put the last empty bottle in the bin and look at him with concern. “What’s wrong? Sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you with the beer thing -”

“That was nothing,” he says, not looking at you as he starts rolling up the parchment on the table with your enchanted drawing of Azkaban and various moving diagrams representing different positions on brooms.

You frown. It’s not like him not to speak his mind.

“Cormac,” you say softly taking the rolled-up parchment from his hands and putting it on the table behind you. “Tell me. Please.” He looks edgily up at the staircase for any signs of movement. You link your arms around his neck and feel his shoulders unstiffen under your touch. “I can see gears whirring under here,” you say, pushing his hair back. “Only just. Your hair’s so curly when it gets this long,” you grin.

He twists his mouth into a reluctant smile before sighing. “I’m fine. It’s cool.”

“Is it Alicia being here? Ugh, I didn’t know she was coming either.” You frown.

“You seemed pretty chummy on your way in here.”

“She was telling me she was almost captured by snatchers when she found Oliver and Angelina. I was just glad she didn’t get caught... Even if it means she’s ended up here, I suppose.”

Your explanation seems to reassure him because he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

“You never told me Davies fancied you either,” he murmurs and you pull back to give him an incredulous look.

“He - what?! He said that?”

“Not in so many words. He just seemed extremely interested when he found out you didn’t exclusively date women.”

You scoff. “He’s probably just surprised.”

He looks down at you. “That’s what he said. But I know what guys are like… I think he was disappointed he missed his chance.”

“Davies is not interested in me like that,” you say, studying his green eyes as they look at you unflinchingly. “And even if he was, I’m not interested in him.”

He doesn’t reply. You can feel him holding something back.

“Cormac?”

“I…” He swallows thickly. “I just think the pressure is getting to me. And Alicia turning up today… It just made me wonder what things would have been like if she had never broken up with you.”

You too had always wondered what it would be like if you saw Alicia again. You thought the anger you felt last summer would bubble to the surface again when you laid eyes on her but when her dark brown eyes met yours outside the perimeter of the lighthouse, they crinkled in a smile and you felt like you were greeting an old acquaintance and nothing more.

Maybe, maybe, if you hadn’t met Cormac McLaggen, you’d feel differently. Maybe you’d feel bitter. Maybe you’d still be pining for her.

But you did meet McLaggen.

You and Alicia brought out the worst in each other. Your fieriness set Alicia’s burning stubbornness ablaze until it combusted into a ball of Fiendfyre. But with Cormac, it’s always been different. He’s the only idiot who’s ever been brave enough to keep your fire lit and come out the other side feeling warmer.

“Well, there’s no point thinking about that because she did. And I wouldn’t give her the chance to do it again.”

He pauses. “You gave me a second chance.”

“That’s because you’re you, Cormac.”

You had barely been broken up with Alicia for a few weeks before you made Amortentia in that first potions lesson together with him. It smelled like him - without you even knowing what he smelled like. That meant something. It had to. You take a deep breath and inhale that same scent that made you reconsider everything you thought you knew about yourself at the start of your seventh year.

“I - I’ve never told anyone I’ve been with that I loved them. Because I didn’t know what it really felt like until I met you,” you say. “I’ve always been ‘too much’ for other people. Too abrasive. Too obsessed with Quidditch. But you just… you just accepted all those things and didn’t try to change them.”

“Why should I? I like you just as you are.”

“I know. And ironically it has changed me. For the better... I can’t believe there’s something more important to me than playing Quidditch now.” You hold his face with both your hands, feeling the rough stubble on his jaw under your palms. “Someone.”

Everyone knows McLaggen has an ego. But you can tell it’s fragile tonight. You need him to know how you feel about him. That you don’t just love him in a vacuum. That it doesn’t matter who else is here. That’s it’s him. It’ll always be him.

“I’m sorry.” He says eventually, cupping your face too. “I’ll try to stop being so possessive.”

“I mean…” You pull yourself closer to him and look up into his eyes. “As long as your feelings aren’t hurt in the process, I suppose I don’t mind you being a little bit possessive.”

“Oh, is that so?” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” you smile. “Don’t you remember what you said to me right before we kissed for the first time?”

His eyes move up at the ceiling, looking thoughtful. “Not really. Something about how you looked in your dress?”

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a laugh. “What you actually said was that if I fancied Zacharias Smith, you’d kill him.”

“Well, I stand by that.”

You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, his fingers entwine with your hair as he tilts your head up to deepen the kiss. You massage your tongue over his and he tastes like alcohol - it reminds you of the night of Slughorn’s party all over again. It’s like you’re back on the freezing Quidditch stands again with his cloak covering you but all you wanted to do was rip it off and have him take you right there on the frosty wooden benches.

He seems to read your mind.

“Right, -” he squeezes a handful of your bum. “- get upstairs so I can fuck you so hard that everyone will hear who you belong to.”

You laugh. If anyone else had dared say that, you would have told them off for being presumptuous. Let them have a piece of your mind and tell them that you don’t belong to anyone.

But McLaggen isn’t just anyone. You’re his. And he’s yours

“Cormac, we’re not going to be loud - we’ve all got a big day tomorrow. And besides, I need to be able to sit straight on my broom.” Despite your objection and the sensible voice telling you that you shouldn’t, you feel your cheeks turn pink.

“Fine, I’ll go so slowly that you start crying again.”

“I was not crying.”

“Yeah, yeah...” He gives you an arrogant smirk that makes you fold. Because both of you know he left you a sobbing, weak mess this morning.

Without warning, and before you can protest any further, McLaggen picks you up and hoists you over his shoulder, making you squeal and giggle as he starts climbing the steps up to your bedroom.

Chapter 15: Freedom

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