#that should say second place idk where grade lace came from

[veryconfusedunlabeledguy]

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- Silver anon

ty silver anon :) i greatly appreciate that!

[wooyunhwa]

kingdom of welcome addiction | two

view pinned post for masterlist for links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut 

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: blood drinking, choking (like some serious choking you’ve been warned), crying kink, corruption kink, praise kink? idk, mentions of alcohol, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

It had been a few weeks since you’d last summoned San. The last time you’d seen him, he’d gone kind of crazy after tasting your blood. You couldn’t forget the darkness in his voice, his all-black eyes shining demonically as he lost it. He had left without even giving himself a chance to explain himself, he just disappeared to, well… wherever it was that demons went, you supposed.

Every so often, your hand would find its way up to check the scar where he’d punctured your neck. Honestly, you just wanted to make sure you hadn’t dreamt it all. As the days went on, you really couldn’t be sure. Eventually the scar dwindled to a faint red mark, and then to nothing at all. 

The sticky note was still pinned to the wall above your desk, taunting you every time you saw it. Each time you’d think today was the day you’d call him back, and yet, you hadn’t been able to do it.  

Until you were drunk, that is. 

You had a particularly rough day of classes. Your professor had called you out in front of the whole class for a mistake you made on an assignment, and it ripped you apart. When you got home, you had poured out a few pathetic drinks to drown the pain of the day, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your bed and disappear. But you forgot one vital thing. When you drank alone, you got sad. Like, really sad. The tears seemed to flow endlessly, and there was a point at which you even forgot why you were crying—or drinking—in the first place. 

There was a part of you that needed in that moment to not be alone, even for just a second. Embarrassed to call any of your friends over, you turned to the only companion who couldn’t turn you down.

Your demon boy.

You ripped the post-it off the wall, finally ready to use it, drunkenly singing out the Latin a few times until it was comprehensible enough to work.  

He was perched on your desk when he appeared. You stumbled back drunkenly, startled by his sudden appearance despite knowing you were summoning him. You just forgot how jarring it was. 

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” San grumbled. You weren’t sure if he was responding to your sudden summoning, or the fact that you were leaking tears all over the place pathetically, but you couldn’t even manage to choke out a response through your blubbering. 

“This is way out of my pay grade.” He hopped off the desk, sauntering slowly in your direction. “Have you been drinking, hmm? I can smell that cheap liquor from a mile away. It’s fogging up your pretty little scent.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes pitifully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have summoned you. You can leave.”

“I did miss your cute little human face, I suppose,” he said softly. He was standing close now, towering over you. You pulled your gaze up to meet his eyes, and he gave a gentle pet to your head. In any other situation, it would be sweet, but the look in his eyes was chilling. He looked at you like prey, a piece of meat—and yet his words dripped off his tongue like the sweetest honey. “Don’t cry, okay?” 

His thumb drew across your cheek, passing faintly over your lips, collecting tears. He brought his hand up to his tongue, licking it clean of the saltwater, not breaking eye-contact for even a second. “Virgin tears. Almost as good as the blood,” he sang, eyes rolling back in his head in a quick moment of bliss for just a moment before fixing back on your face. “Almost.”

You forgot how alluring he was, his sharp-featured face in particular. There was something magnetic about it, you couldn’t pull your gaze away no matter how intense he was. 

“So why’d you call me, hmm, darling?” He flashed his teeth villainously. “Missed my bite that much? Have something new to offer, perhaps?”

You dropped your gaze, but he tipped your chin up to meet his again almost immediately. “Look me in the eyes, darling. You’re the one that summoned me, the least you could do is give me that.”

“I shouldn’t have called you here. I shouldn’t have even thought—I should have known you wouldn’t care beyond your own interests,” you said, voice hoarse and shaky through your tears. 

He shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

“Asshole.” 

His brows furrowed. “Okay, a little uncalled for. But not entirely untrue.” He placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the bed. It took only a small nudge to plop you down. You felt the effects of the alcohol wash over you. “We can make a contract. If it makes you feel better.”

“What, you’re gonna ask for my blood again?” you scoffed.

“No.”

“Then?”

“Your tears.”

You paused, considering the stakes. “Fine, take them. What do I get?”

He took a seat next to you on the plush blanket, placing a surprisingly comforting hand on your back. “I’ll listen to you. Like, uh… a demon therapist,” he smiled at you from your side, flashing his fangs cheekily. “I promise I’ll do my best to stay serious. I’m contractually obligated.”

“Fine,” you agreed, slightly annoyed at how difficult you found it to resist him. His devilish charm was too much for you—even sober, but especially drunk. 

“Tears first,” he said decidedly, and you caught a glimpse of desire spark in his eyes. 

You nodded, shuffling your butt on the bed to face him. You expected him to run his fingers over your face, like he had earlier. Instead, he brushed his thumb over the side of your face slowly, dancing along the cut of your jaw, then leaned in to brush his lips over your cheek. You flinched as his lips connected with your skin softly, and you felt the distinct wetness of his tongue brushing over the surface. He lapped at your tears through deliberate, drawn-out kisses, and the cold metal of his lip ring felt unexpectedly nice drawing over your cheek. 

His hand came around to the back of your head, lacing his fingers in your hair to steady you. It was incredibly sensual, whether he meant it to be or not. He moaned pleasurably at the taste of your tears, though he didn’t have the same animalistic hunger he seemed to have when he’d tasted your blood. Probably for the best. 

“You’re so cute when you’re crying. Like a helpless little lamb. If I weren’t supposed to be nice to you right now, I’d have a half a mind to make you cry again,” he purred against your ear. 

His other hand threaded around the small of your waist, like he’d done when he drank your blood before. And you couldn’t lie, you kind of loved it. His position was unexpectedly romantic: one hand cupped around your waist, the other laced in your hair, delivering soft kisses and licks across your cheeks. You closed your eyes to get a better idea of the sensation, fisting your hands needily in the silky fabric of his button down. 

You felt him pull away suddenly, an amused smirk dancing up on his lips. “Someone’s getting spicy. This wasn’t in our contract.” 

Fuck. Something in your mind was telling you to kiss him. Not just telling, but more like screaming at you. Fucking kiss him. His lips looked so soft and alluring, so dangerously off-limits. You leaned in slightly, magnetized by his aura, only to feel him pull away entirely. 

“Okay. I’ve had my fun,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, roughing it up messily, giving you a perfect view at the cut of his jaw. “Now I hold up my end of the deal. You talk, I listen.”

Do we have to talk? you thought, annoyed. I’d rather just make out.

You gritted your teeth together as you tried desperately to shift your thoughts away from kissing him. But you couldn’t help but think about how his lips would taste against your lips, how his tongue would dance sinfully against yours, his fingers laced in your hair—god, what was wrong with you? It was probably all the drinks you had, making you unnecessarily sad and even more unnecessarily horny for your hot demon errand boy. You needed to get it the fuck together. 

You pushed away your fantasies for the night, as hard as that was. For the next hour or so, you lamented to him about your rough day, even going into a few things that had happened in the past week. He listened thoughtfully, carefully, though in the back of your mind you knew he was only being so attentive because he was ‘contractually obligated.’ 

You poured your heart to him, feeling incredibly vulnerable under his concentrated gaze. Though this time it wasn’t entirely predatory, but more like interested. Caring, even. You doubted that even was possible. Even so, as you talked, you felt more and more connected with him. 

For a moment, he seemed almost human. 

Summoning San became an almost nightly routine for you. 

You’d summon him, have him help you with mundane activities like homework, cleaning, cooking—whatever task you could think of to keep him around as long as possible. Of course, he couldn’t turn you down unless you didn’t have a reasonable counter to give him. 

Each time you summoned him, it seemed as though he cared less and less about the contract and seemed to enjoy your company a bit more. Not that he’d ever unveil that information to you—he always gave into your mundane proposals begrudgingly, but there was a glint in his eye that said he wanted to be there, even if he wouldn’t admit it yet. 

“You know I have other clients, right?” he’d joke. “You can’t summon me every night.”

“Oh, so you’re cheating on me?” you’d tease back. 

“Don’t worry,” he’d say with a charming wink. “You’re my favorite human.” 

“Not that there’s any competition, but you’re my favorite demon.” 

You loved the playful banter between you. He felt somehow easier to talk to than any human you’d met, perhaps because there was little to no social pressure involved. Something about your dynamic felt almost boyfriend-ish, in a way—if you could consider being a glorified errand boy a boyfriend-ish thing to do. He rarely divulged any personal information about himself, but you got to know him through the littlest things. His small habits, the things that made him laugh. 

You couldn’t believe it, but you were falling for him slowly, like some sort of pathetic schoolgirl crush. The highlight of your day was the minute you could conjure him, even just to see his face smiling in front of you, that familiar devilish grin as he appeared in your room. 

There was still something that felt entirely off-limits, though. Sure, you’d let him drink from your neck a few more times—each time he’d get better at controlling himself—but you weren’t sure how to cross the line from there. He’d been so forward on the very first night you met him. He even asked to take your virginity, which of course you outright denied. But even if it was a joke, if he was just messing with you, the idea swirled in your mind every now and again. You even dreamt of him a few times. But he hadn’t mentioned it since. 

It was late in the night. You had summoned San to do some menial house chores, as you usually did, in exchange for dinner and a back massage—something you weren’t even aware demons needed. San had explained it to you, but you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the inhuman-soul in a human-vessel dynamic, so you chose not to question it too hard.

Today, something felt different about him. He was flirtier, sexier, more outlandishly charming than usual, if that was even possible. You watched him scrubbing your countertops like your hot demon maid—you even went so far as to dress him in an apron you spent a little too long picking out at the store—marveling at the small of his waist cinched in with the fabric tie. 

“Enjoying the view?” he teased with a playful glance over his shoulder, wiggling his hips. 

“Ugh, I was until you did that,” you joked back. “C’mon, that countertop isn’t gonna scrub itself.”

He gave his hips another shake, chuckling as you trained your gaze on his ass. “You’re so cute when you’re drooling over me. Get it together, darling. You’ve still got a massage to give.”  

He was just joking around with you, you knew that. He was probably just as charming with his other summoners, or his ‘clients’ as he called them. But he was right, you couldn’t help but drool over him. It was moments like this where you fell for him, hard, pretty much flat on your face. You wished so desperately for him to be human right now, just for a second. You wanted him to give you a sweet, squeezing hug, kissing your forehead. You wanted to feel his arms around your waist, pulling you in close. You wanted to ask him on a date. You wanted him. 

But you’d have to settle for watching him clean your house. God, what was wrong with you? You couldn’t have caught feelings for a human boy?

And now you had to give him a massage, which wasn’t going to make it any better. 

He laid himself face down on your bed, face resting gingerly against your pillow. You straddled him, setting yourself down gently on the back of his thighs. You had admittedly never given a massage before, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. Your hands explored below the hem of his shirt, lifting up slowly to reveal the soft, perfectly tanned skin underneath. You were able to get a better view of his proportions, the way his waist curved in so delicately and then up into his beautifully broad shoulders. He was fit, but not too muscular, slender, but not too thin. He was absolutely immaculate. 

You rubbed circles in his back, drawing out the sweetest moans from his lips as you massaged down on his muscles. “I may be cursed with this human body—ah—but this does feel kind of amazing,” he admitted in a voice slightly muffled by the pillows. 

You worked at his muscles until he seemed satisfied, even rolling your palms around his neck and shoulders to hear his sweet groans of pleasure. It was unbelievably enticing, and you felt dampness pooling between your legs.  

When you were done he rolled on to his stomach. You watched in awe at the rise and fall of his chest, the tip of his chin accentuating his sharp jawline. You didn’t want him to leave. 

He stood himself up from the bed, shaking his muscles out a bit before smiling cheekily, flashing his fangs as he always did. “Looks like our contract today is complete. See you tomorrow, hmm?” he winked. 

“San wait—”

“Yes?”

“I want another contract.”

He paused to contemplate, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip in thought. He cocked his pierced eyebrow up, stepping forward to close the distance between you. “What’s that, little lamb? Are you finally gonna let me take that pretty little soul?”

You swallowed, mustering up the courage to make your move. “I want you to kiss me.”

“You—what?” he sputtered, clearly caught off guard by your proposition. 

“I’m asking you to kiss me,” you repeated.

You watched his eyes go dark, slightly hooded as he trained his gaze back on you. In contrast from his lighthearted mood earlier in the day, he looked particularly lustful as his eyes found your lips. 

“So, if you want to make a contra—” 

He was on you before you could finish your sentence. His hands found your hips, squeezing tightly to pull you against him.

His lips lingered over yours, the warmth of his breath washing over you like soft waves. He didn’t stay there for long, pulling your lips against his fully. He tasted like heaven, hell, and everything in between. You craved for him as thirstily, barely coming up for air as your lips rocked slowly against each other’s. One of his hands was laced in your hair, the other steadying against your neck. For a moment, you forgot he was even a demon at all, except for the inhumanly exquisite taste of his lips.

He pulled away for only enough time to choke out his next words in a low growl. “I guess I’ll make an exception on the contract this once. Once.”

He bit playfully at your bottom lip, lightly twirling his tongue around the surface. Then harder. You yelped as his fang sunk in, tearing off a small piece of flesh. He smirked against your lips, drawing his tongue across the blood with sensual breaths. His hands came to your shoulders to swivel your hips around, backing you into the wall next to your door frame, caging you in with his body. 

“I always forget how good you taste,” he purred in your ear. He grasped at your body hungrily through your clothes, like he was ready to rip through them at any moment.

You could have stayed there forever, his body trapping you against the wall, lips on you like he would never have another chance to taste you. But he pushed away suddenly, his eyes flashing a demonic black for a moment angrily. 

“Fuck. I have to go. I’m getting another call,” he hissed through his teeth. 

“San wait I—” 

But he was gone. 

Your knees gave out under you weakly, sliding your back down the wall, staring at the empty space he had occupied. He wasn’t yours. He wasn’t your boyfriend, or even your friend. He was a demon. You couldn’t afford to forget that for even a moment. 

It was just too good to be true.

You didn’t discuss the kiss further, not for a while at least. He’d made a few passing comments on his nightly house calls, but you hadn’t dared bring it up again in conversation. However, on one night in particular, you had summoned him without purpose. You were admittedly lonely, and frankly, a bit horny. You wanted company, and he was always on call. 

“Yes, my liege?” he teased with a bow as he appeared in your room. And there was that intoxicating smile again. 

“Will you just talk to me tonight?”

“Okay, darling. And what do I get, hmm?”

“No contract.”

“You know that isn’t how this wo—” 

“I want to know you’re not just here because you have to be tonight. But if you really don’t want to be here, you can leave. You know the way out.”

He sighed heavily. “Y/N, you know this isn’t—”

“Please.” 

You saw the look on his face soften, and he gave in with a nod that said ‘fine, but just this once’.

You talked across from each other on the bed for a while, talking about anything that came to your mind, though not much about him. He mostly listened, cut in a few times with a quip or a cheeky comment, but kept his eyes trained on you with complete concentration otherwise. You actually hadn’t expected him to be such a good listener. Better than most humans you knew, anyway. You loved the moments where you caught a glimmer of humanity, although you knew that wasn’t possible. The only human thing about him was his body, after all. 

As you made conversation, your mind wandered elsewhere. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, his crimson eyes shining like rubies. You felt completely intoxicated by him, as you always did. He was entirely tempting and yet felt completely off limits, even though you had entertained many times the thought of him fucking you. The thought flickered through your head even now. You imagined every rise of the muscles in his chest, sweat glistening on his skin as he towered over you. You imagined what his dick might look like, sliding in and out of you. You imagined his lips all over your body, every curve of your skin, every inch of you from head to toe.

The tension in the room grew thick as you watched his mouth, concentrated on every movement, every flick of his tongue, the faint glimmer of his metal lip ring, the fangs glistening under his slightly parted lips. There wasn’t an ounce of subtlety in the way you watched him, and he slowly stopped moving entirely, focusing all his energy on to you again. You craved the intense heat of his gaze now—you were no longer uncomfortable with his severity, only further entranced by how it pulled you in. You were entirely in his trap. You leaned forward, initiating the kiss, and he leaned in to meet you. His tongue slid against yours, and you reciprocated fervently. He tasted incredible, and the way he moaned against your lips indicated he felt the same about you. “You’re intoxicating,” he purred, his heavy breaths sounding like music in your ears. You wanted him, entirely. Since the moment he’d first appeared you’d wanted him.

Your hands explored his chest, his arms, the small of his waist—everywhere you could touch, you did. His chest was rock-solid, a beautiful display of muscle sculpted beautifully on his core. You felt every desire you’d ever had compounding at once within you, it rocked through you like a wave: the need to be touched, held, fucked right this moment. Although you’d never done it before, at least with another person, you had plenty of experience with the vibrator in your room, and recently, with picturing San as you pleasured yourself. Either way, if you had done it with another human or not, it probably wouldn’t have even mattered—he wasn’t human at all, in fact. What he was was danger wrapped up in an alluringly human-like package.  

“I want you to fuck me, San,” you said confidently, letting the words the drip off your tongue, slowly and deliberately. 

Your bodies were nearly flush, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His finger traced along your jaw, a low grumble rolling up through his throat, coming up through his teeth in a hiss. “You can’t tempt me with that kind of offer,” he growled, and the way his fingers trembled as they met your skin indicated his ultimate self-control. “I don’t think you understand how I can get...”

“I saw it, San, before. Remember? I’m not scared of you,” you countered. But that last part was kind of a lie.

“I can’t,” He took a final step closer, closing any remaining gap between you. “Fuck… you don’t understand how… delicious you look to me right now,” he hissed through his teeth, his voice getting rougher and deeper as he held himself together. “I can’t help myself. It’s like some sort of animal instinct.”

“San, please. I can handle it. You even admitted you wanted my virginity the day we met.”

“I was joking back then… sort of. I might be soulless, but I’m not heartless. I couldn’t hurt you.” He gritted his teeth, restraining his heavy, lusted breaths.

“So you don’t want to?”

“Fuck, I do… I do more than anything. Every time I look at you I picture myself destroying you—”

“Then do it.”

“Gah, you—fuck.” He planted a few restrained kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck. He dragged his fangs along the taut flesh, threatening to sink them in. “I can try to hold myself back. No promises.” 

“Please, San,” you whined. Your hands fisted the silky fabric of his shirt, drawing his chest as close to yours as possible. 

“Mmf,” he grunted against your neck, digging his nails into your waist hungrily. “Fuck, you taste like a drug.” He pulled back, his eyes darker now. His usually crimson irises looked nearly black in his state of temptation, so much so that you could barely make out the whites of his eyes. He looked more like a demon than ever before, the wicked aura almost possessing him. He shook his head, as if trying to purify himself. “I can’t—I’m gonna hurt you. Don’t do this to me, I’m not going to be able to—” 

You pulled down the collar of your shirt, revealing your shoulders and a hint of your chest. His eyes went hungry, trained on the soft curve of your collarbone lustfully, wickedly. “I’m giving my body to you, please... Take it.” 

His voice was a low growl, and he seemed to be restraining himself with everything he had left. Thick, enraged veins bulged from his forearms as he grasped at your waist. “I’m telling you, I’m going to lose control… you’re not gonna recognize me.”

“I know. San, please. I’m asking you to take my virginity.”

He finally snapped under your words, his eyes almost fully consumed with black now. His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking gently at the soft skin around it. His desperate clawing nearly tore the fabric of your shirt from your skin as his kisses feasted on you hungrily. You tipped your head back, his lips and tongue eliciting soft moans from you as they danced along the top half of your chest.

His voice was so deep now it nearly rumbled, barely sounding like the San you knew. “You’re delicious—fuck—even better than I remember.” 

His hands pushed you back against the pillows with more strength than he probably meant to use, nearly knocking the wind out of you with his force. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, and you yelped in surprise at the sting of his teeth in your flesh. You felt the distinctly wet and all-too-familiar sensation of blood as the canines pierced your skin. He licked it clean, his whole body shaking with desire as your blood washed over his tongue. He sang the most beautiful moans you’d ever heard into your skin, lapping up every last drop clean from where he’d punctured you. 

You had grown addicted to the sensation of his teeth on your skin and his tongue licking up the blood, like some sort of weird demon-vampire fetish you had never considered before. You laced your fingers in his hair as he worked his way down your chest, tearing away the fabric of your shirt apart with his hands like it was a wet piece of paper, and he didn’t stop until the mess of torn fabric that used to be your shirt slipped off of you easily. His lips kissed and marked your breasts as he worked his way down, then ripped off your pants with the same distinct sound of fabric being torn through like it was nothing. 

His dark eyes gleamed hungrily as he met your gaze. He used his tongue sinfully between your thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he kissed and licked around the seam of your panties. You were soaking wet now, the fabric of your underwear entirely drenched from the anticipation. Not just from today, but from the past few weeks of fantasizing about him completely wrecking you. His fangs gripped into the wet fabric, nearly taking your skin with it as he pulled your panties out from between your legs—the only piece of clothing he hadn’t entirely torn off.

“What a cute little human pet,” he purred seductively in your ear, dragging his fingernails across the cut of your jaw. You winced as he drew his hand over your freshly bitten wound. “It’s too bad your blood won’t be so sweet after I’m done with you, hmm, darling? Maybe just one more time, hmm?”

You felt his teeth sink down into your shoulder, and he pulled you entirely flush against him as he bit down with more ferocity than before. You cried out against him as he slipped his tongue delicately over the wound. His hungry grip around your waist grew tighter with every lick. 

“San—ah—” you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as he soothed your wound with his tongue, hands coming up to squeeze your breasts.

“I could drain you right here,” he growled harshly, but there was still lust coating his words. You felt his dick harden in his pants as he pulled his teeth from your skin, leaving the aching sting of the fresh wound on your collarbone. You felt a bit dizzy now, not only with lust but also from losing quite a bit of blood to his tongue. He stood up suddenly, stripping like clothes meant nothing to him, ripping them off and tossing them to the floor. His breathing was less like breaths and more like throaty grunts. You were able to marvel at his naked body for only a second before he climbed on top of you, forcing you to lie completely flat under him, his broad shoulders closing you in completely.

“Such a cute human,” he praised, marveling at your smallness, your complete powerlessness beneath him. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, his body caged you in from all sides—it’s a good thing you didn’t want to. His eyes were intense, predatory, but not entirely possessed like he had been before just at the mere taste of your blood. You were surprised by his restraint he seemed to be holding on to. “Tiny, powerless… I want to hear you beg for me,” he purred into your ear. As he awaited your response, he lapped gently at the wounds he’d made earlier, collecting the remaining blood on his tongue with a needy moan.  

“Please, San—” you started apprehensively, unsure of exactly what he wanted from you. Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke, and heat rose in your cheeks. 

He clicked his tongue twice. “Tsk, tsk. I forgot, she’s too pure for this.” 

“Fuck me. Please—” 

“That’s better darling.”

“I want your cock, please, San.”

“I don’t want to hurt you baby, but you’re too fucking tempting. So cute and helpless beneath me.” He drew one of his hands lightly across your chest, dragging his fingers along every curve. “Begging. Embarrassed. It’s adorable.”

His hand drew over your stomach. Hips. Thighs. Then, finally, between your legs, delivering a small, fleeting taste of the pleasure you’d been searching for all night. You bucked your hips up involuntarily under his touch, and he drew his hand back teasingly. His eyes, hooded with desire, were fixed on your face, reveling in every reaction, every small noise that crept up through your throat. Darkness crept through them, nearly entirely black now. He looked like a real demon. 

“What a naughty girl. Practically dripping for me. I thought you were pure, hmm? What happened?” he sang condescendingly, a smirk twitching up on his lips. “Be a sweet little pet for me now.” 

He pushed his hips flush with yours, his cock aligning up against you. A low growl ripped through his throat, digging his fingernails into the sheets with a terrifying display of force. “This is probably gonna hurt, darling,” he purred. “Look me in the eyes. I want to see your cute little face as I ruin you.” He tipped your chin up to meet his eyes just as he rutted his hips in for the first time. 

The tip slipped in easily, but you couldn’t help but wince at the sensation. You’d tried toys before, but nothing could compare to the size—or feeling—of the real thing. “Ah—ah San, it—it kind of hurts,” you whined, your face twisting a bit as he pumped a few times, slowly and shallowly. He watched your face with blackened eyes. 

“You have no idea—” Thrust. “How hard—” Thrust. “It is to—” Thrust. “Keep myself from destroying you.” 

Your broken cries echoed loudly as his mouth came down on your wounds once again, delivering wet, desperate licks at the bloody remnants of the punctures he created. It stung harshly, and a single tear escaped your eyes. He pulled away from your chest, positioning himself completely upright, dick still halfway inside of you. You got a good look at his hard chest, an immaculate display of muscle. An unidentifiable tattoo snaked down his right side. He looked almost statuesque poised above you. 

“Such pretty tears. My little lamb,” he praised with a low growl, sinking his fingernails into the flesh of your thighs. “Fuck—tell me I can ruin you—” his fingernails dug deeper.

You nodded, urging him on. You initiated it, you wanted it, even if he scared you a bit with his harsh gaze and his tightening grip threatening to mark up your skin. “Yes. Please.” With a single thrust he bottomed out inside you entirely, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. You tossed your head back, but you could still feel the heat of his stare following your every moment, taking in every curve and scar of your body. “Good little human,” he praised, stroking your thighs as he thrust in again. Every movement he made overwhelmed your senses entirely—a lethal mix of the sting of your wounds, the sensitivity of his hands exploring your thighs, the feeling of his dick stretching out inside you, and finally, how much you craved him. 

His hand came up to your throat, latching on to it with a steady viced grip. His eyes went hooded, hungry as he squeezed the air from your lungs. Harder. Tighter. His fingers viced around your neck with dizzying force. You squirmed beneath him, clawing at his hand desperately. TV static buzzed in your brain, and the world went blurry. You just barely caught a glimpse of his black eyes fading back to red before your vision slipped away into darkness. 

Your eyes shuttered open to the familiar image of your ceiling. You recognized you were in your own bed, fully clothed, tucked under the covers neatly. Before you could survey your surroundings, San’s face was above you, eyebrows slightly furrowed, tilting his head as he looked down at you. You’d never seen his eyes so soft.

“Look, she’s awake.” His voice was calmer than usual, warmer. “How do you feel?”

“Like hell,” you croaked, voice hoarse as you choked out your words. 

“I don’t say this often...” he started, placing a hand on your head. “But I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have even done that in the first place. I went too far.”

“I—what happened—”

“You blacked out. I, uh, well... I choked you until you passed out. I told you, it’s hard for me to control myself like that.” 

“Did you—”

“Of course not,” he interjected, not even letting you finish. He knew what you were implying. “As soon as you stopped moving it snapped me out of it.”

You dropped your gaze, recalling how you saw his black eyes turn to normal right before you lost consciousness. “Right. Uh… thanks.”

“I like my prey fresh, anyways. It’s not fun when I can’t watch them squirm.” And there it was. His devilish smile again. His tongue twitched across his lower lip, playing with his lip ring absentmindedly. He quickly cleared his throat when he saw the unamused expression on your face. “I hope… uh, I hope at least you were having fun before—you know.”

You nodded in response as you tried to sit upright in the bed. Bad idea. Your vision went dizzy, and a rush of pain pounded through your skull. “Ah—ow, fuck.”

“Should I get you some water or something? Whatever it is that humans want when they hurt.” 

You rolled your eyes at his pointedly un-human response. “Sure, water sounds fine.”

He retrieved you a glass from the kitchen, setting it on the nightstand. “I hate to do this, but I’ve been here for way too long,” he started hesitantly. You could see the regret in his eyes. “Without a contract too. I could get in trouble for this.”

“It’s fine, you can go,” you muttered. “I could use some sleep right now anyway.” 

He nodded quietly, administering a small, strangely awkward pat to your head. “Right. Well, uh… get some sleep.” 

You barely blinked before he was gone, but it didn’t matter anyway. You were asleep before you could even take a sip of the water he’d gotten you. 

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Met Gala || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter go on a mission to capture Harry Osborn at one of the most heavily guarded places; the Met Gala. 

Word Count: 2k

Author’s note: I watched Ocean’s 8 and Hoco back to back and thus, this fic was born. 

Warning: Fighting?? Creepy dude??? IDK man a busted lip?

-----

When you were recruited for SHIELD, you knew you would be needed to fight alongside the avengers or workaround in the advanced lab in the Helicarier but never in a million years did you think Fury would send you and Peter Parker on a mission to infiltrate the Met Gala. Celebrities you stalked all day on twitter were now inches from you, wearing gorgeous ensembles from famous designers you could never pronounce and you were hardcore fangirling.

You tried to keep in your excitement as you looked across the room, seeing your favorite actors and influencers all mingling together without a care in the world. You were breathing the same air as Beyonce and Harry Styles, dear god, life felt great. Little did they know, this event had been hijacked by New York’s charming new villain, Harry Osbourn. Your mission with Peter was simple; find Harry and take him back to SHIELD’s headquarters for questioning without causing a mass distraction.

As you reached for a crystalized champagne glass off of one of the server’s silver platter, you hear a tsk sound off in your hidden earpiece inside your earrings.

“ Drinking on the job,” Peter clicked his tongue as he looked behind his shoulder, scouting you from across the ballroom,” your mother would be so disappointed.”

You smiled and took a small sip, taking in the room,” I’m blending in Parker. You should do the same.  As for my mom, I’m in the same room as Idris Elba so I think she’ll be more jealous than upset.”

You took a quick glance towards Peter, who was sitting at a vacant table. He wore a black suit with a thin gold and blush material lined thinly along either side of the opening of his suit jacket. The inside of the suit was a simple white button-up that had no buttons at the top, revealing a bit of his chest.

While it was the Met Gala and you were excited to see what kind of flashy SHIELD had managed to get, they went the opposite. They gave you a black, long sleeve gown with a delicate lace pattern towards the bottom of your dress.  Even though it was already out of your comfort zone from how fitting it was, the dress had a deep V cut on your chest that gave little to the imagination. While the dress was flattering, you knew you could’ve settled for your old prom dress when you heard that the gown you were wearing was two times the price of your apartment.

“ My little Peter Parker looks like he’s going to a Las Vegas communion,” you teased as you gave him a distant longing look,” but you look nice. You should wear suits more often, maybe then you could get a girlfriend.”

“ Ouch, Y/N,” Peter laughed, even though his heart stung a bit,” just because you look like that doesn’t mean you can go around breaking my heart.”

Even though Peter couldn’t see you from where you were, you still felt your cheeks to see if it was noticeable that you were blushing hard. Ever since sophomore year in high school, you had always hopelessly flirted with Peter but his attention was always Spiderman this and Spiderman that. It wasn’t until your senior year that you both would flirt with each other shamelessly yet that made things even harder for you. Now you weren’t sure if he was just joking or actually flirting with you and you could only blame yourself.

“ Keep your eyes open for Harry, not me,” You said as you finished your champagne glass and set it down at a table,” but I like the attention so you may continue flirting with me after we’re done with our mission.”

You heard Peter gasp loudly followed by silence which made your heart stop. 

“ Peter? Peter do you have eyes on Harry?”

“ No! I think Blake Lively is about to come up and talk to me, bye!”

You craned your neck and sure enough, you picked Peter out of the crowd and saw the goddess herself sitting next to him smiling. Lucky bastard. You kept your eyes glued to Peter as you collided with someone.

“ Woah watch yourself there,” You heard as you felt your anxiety raise through the roof. Please don’t let it be Pedro Pascal, please. I would die from embarrassment if I just bumped into the Mandalorian, Pedro Pascal, himself.

You apologized but when you hesitantly looked up, hoping it wasn’t a famous celebrity you had obsessed over, your heart dropped. Harry Osborn.  

“I’m sorry but do I know you?” Harry asked as you thought quickly of what to do,” I swear you look familiar.”

You weren’t prepared to see him so soon, your plan of attack was to find him not for him to find you. You snapped yourself out of it and focused on what you knew best, flirting.

“ No, you don’t. Trust me, you would remember a face like mine,” you said smoothly, feeling your confidence boost from the energy of the night and most likely the dress.

Harry smirked,” I like you already. I’m Harry, Harry Osborn.”

Oh you knew. You knew everything about him from the countless files that SHIELD had provided you. His estranged father was Norman Osborn and is the president of Oscorp, one of the leading multinational corporations in the US. Harry was around the same height as Peter, standing at 5' 10, weighing 170 pounds, and had dark blue eyes that held more than just a charming sparkle. You knew how he liked his coffee, why he hated Halloween, where he vacationed when he was in grade school, and when he lost his virginity. Knowing how much intel SHIELD had on Harry was not only scary for him, but for you since who knows about dirt Fury had one you aswell.

“ Michelle Jones,” you said on the spot, not wanting him to know your real name. He reached for you hand to shake but instead, placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

You smiled politely even though you mentally rolled your eyes. You just needed to get him somewhere private so you could take him out with the tranquilizer that Peter had in his pocket.

“ So Harry, what brings you to the Met? You must be pretty influential to get an invite,” you said as you started walking away from your spot, knowing that there was an exit behind the staircase and that Harry would follow you.

“ I would call myself an entrepreneur,  I dabble in some tech companies here and there. Just changing the world one robot at a time,” Harry shrugged as he followed next to you, taking the bait,” I bet you’re probably into something along the lines of modeling.”

You couldn’t help yourself but to let out a lousy laugh as he held a set of double doors open for you, leaving an empty hallway,” That’s cute but no,  I’m one of the leading programmers at Stark Industries. But sure, I guess I’m just a pretty face too.”

“ Brains, beauty, and an attitude? Well today’s my lucky day then,” he flirted as he placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in close to your ear,” let’s get out of here yeah?”

You almost showed your visibly disgusted expression on your face but you hide it well underneath a sweet smile,“ I admire your boldness and while I am very flattered, I have a boyfriend. I think he would actually love to meet you, let me just go find him.”

“ Y/N, there you are,” Peter’s voice piped behind you as you watched his face fall for a second and then recover,” who’s your friend?”

Your smile faltered,“ R-Right, this is Harry Osborn, Harry, this is my boyfriend...Ned.”

Peter shook Harry’s hand as Peter tried to hide a grin from the fake name,” Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry nodded and looked between you two as Peter placed his arm around your hip, bringing you closer,” Well Ned, you’re a lucky man. She’s very smart and might I say very beautiful.”

Peter clenched his jaw as Harry looked you up and down longingly as if he could see straight through your gown. You felt Peter’s grip on your waist tighten but he knew that he had to stay calm so he didn’t compromise the mission.

“ Yes, Y/N is the whole package,” Peter said a bit more confidently as he gave you a small kiss on the cheek,” aren’t you baby?”

Before you could open your mouth, Harry interrupted and took a step forward,” That’s funny, she told me her name was Michelle.”

Peter looked back at your face and while you were now panicking on the inside, you only nodded in response,” Michelle Y/N Jones. Only my close friends call me Y/N.”

“ Really?  You know, now that I’m really thinking about it,” Harry looked between you two and pointed at Peter,” you look like a...Peter Parker. And you, Look like a Y/N L/N. Which is funny because I know two people who work for SHIELD who are allegedly after me. Funny huh?”

Your breath hitched and without thinking, Peter lunged at Harry and the two wrestled to the floor.  You watched as the two struggled on top of one another before Harry got the upper hand, giving him a few good punches before he started to choke him.

You looked at the cart next to you and grabbed a bottle of Champagne before slamming it over Harry’s head. In an instant, Harry slumped over on top of Peter who breathed a sigh of relief.

“ D-Did I kill him?” You asked as you dropped whatever was still intact of the bottle.

Peter shook his head, taking in your appearance. While you didn’t have any physical marks on you, your hair that was neatly tucked into a bun was now loose and all over the place.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Peter asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his lip was definitely busted,”Y/N I am so sorry about blowing your cover and I’m sorry that you-”

You leaned over towards Peter and planted a light kiss to his cheek, which made him instantly turn red. You didn’t know what came over you but the damage was done, now you just had to get out of here.

“ Less talking and more lifting,” you said softly as you both looked down at Harry who was very much unconscious,” The car is waiting downstairs for us so I’ll grab his legs and you grab his arms?”

“ I can carry him myself,” Peter said and you knew he could because of his ‘super strength’ but you shook your head and insisted over a hundred times that you were a strong, capable woman.

Peter took one last longing look at you since his face couldn’t get any redder and nodded as the two of you both lifted Harry down the private staircase. The two of you said nothing, only sharing an occasional groan as you used most of your strength.

“ So what, are we dating now?” Peter asked as he accidentally bumped Henry’s head against the railing.

You huffed and stepped carefully, not wanting to trip over your dress,” I know I drank like three glasses of champagne but I would definitely remember if I asked you out, Parker.”

“ Well you introduced me to  Harry as your boyfriend.”

You stopped moving and placed Harry down on the stairs, your muscles that you hardly ever worked on were already aching. You placed your hands on your hips and shook your head,” Okay well, I technically said you were Ned so that means Ned is my boyfriend.”

You swallowed and looked up at Peter,” But if this is your attempt at trying to ask me out then yes, I will go out with you...only if you carry Harry the rest of the way.”

Peter hid his huge grin and only shrugged plainly, even though he wanted to jump out of excitement,” Fine by me.”

You watched as Peter lifted Harry with ease as if he weighed absolutely nothing.

“Show off,” you said as Peter smirked, knowing that he could get used to this. 

[neewtmas]

{#31} i’m her boyfriend // newt au (part ii)

fandom: the maze runner

pairing: newt x reader

word count: 1,7k words 

warning: idk if this counts as a warning, but spoiler for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phönix (but if you still don’t know what happens you either lived under a rock for the last twenty years or you’ re just not interested lol so i guess this warning is unnessecary) 

request: by @coconcovers

summary: y/n and newt go back to join the others and their friends want to know all the details of their ‘relationship’, so newt tells a story of how he fell in love with y/n

part i / part iii / part iv

masterlist

You turned around and tried to open the door, but Newt laid his hand on your shoulder. “One last thing.”

You looked at him. “What?”

He quickly gave you another rather passionate kiss. “Now we can go.

He opened the door and let you step through, following close behind and grabbing your hand in the process, intertwining your fingers with his.

Your friends were engrossed in an animated discussion, but everyone stopped talking the moment you two entered the room and turned their heads simultaneously in your direction.

You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, but Newt squeezed your hand in a soothing manner and led you to the couch.

“Y/N, a number between 1 and 5?”

You tilted your head and eyed Thomas confused: “What?”

Thomas shook his head impatiently, “Just give me a number between 1 and 5”

“Well, ok…..4?”

He smiled and stuck his tongue out to Minho. “I told you she would choose the right one!”

“Ok…what did I just choose?”

Thomas shrugged and pulled out one of the movies from the pile on the coffee table, “Just which movie we’re gonna watch now. And you chose the movie I wanted to watch”, he spoke and held up Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

“My choice would have been better, I tell you”, grumbled Minho, and nodded towards the kitchen. “You two didn’t sit down yet, so you’re gonna bring us some snacks.”

You pulled Newt with you quickly, not wanting to risk any comments from your friends. It would go to be awkward enough after watching the movie. You didn’t even want to think about all the questions.

“But don’t get lost or something!”, Minho yelled after you, “and don’t forget: snacks are in the kitchen, not in the bedroom!”, he added, snickering, causing you roll your eyes at his behavior.

“Minho is unbelievable”, you huffed, tearing the cupboard open you knew Teresa stored the snacks in. You reached out for two bags of chips and some chocolate cookies, turned around and stuffed it in Newt’s arms, who watched your little outburst with confusion.

“You ok?”, he asked, mild concern lacing his voice, “we can leave every time if you want.”

You shook your head. “It’s ok, Minho’s just annoying.”

“As usual.”

“As usual”, I agreed, stood on tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Bring the snacks in already, i’m gonna get some drinks.”

He gave you his signature sweet smile that let your heart flutter and left the kitchen.

You searched in the drawer for some coke, before you followed your … boyfriend? friend? What were you right now? Yes, he had said he wanted to kiss you for a long time, but this didn’t imply that he wanted you to be his girlfriend as well. What if this was just a cruel joke?

But you shook your head to get this thought out of your mind. Newt would never do this to you.

You walked through the dining room into the living room, where the movie had already started, and your friends sat lined up on the couch, stuffing their faces with the snacks Newt had just brought.

Careful not to drop anything and cause a total mess, you put down the drinks and then scanned the room for a place to sit.

The couch was packed, no possibility for you sitting down without being totally uncomfortable.

You quickly decided to just settle yourself down on the floor, but before you could even think further about it, you could feel Newts warm hands on your waist, pulling you gently yet firmly down onto his lap.

He planted a soft kiss on your cheek and mumbled in your ear:“ Don’t think i’m gonna let my girl on the Floor, love” You felt the heat rising to your cheeks and the butterflies in your belly going haywire at the words ‘my girl’ and you lowered your head in an attempt to hide your blush behind your hair.

You can almost feel Newts satisfied smirk as he pulls you even closer to his chest and starts playing with your hair, gently untangling the strands and causing you to hum contently.

Everyone followed the movie intently, not noticing Newt planting little kisses on the back of your neck, drawing little imaginary pattern on your arms and thighs and just generally being really affectionate, to the point where you couldn’t follow the movie properly anymore and just closed your eyes, concentrating on his touch and the the little sparks of electricity his gentle fingers left on your body.

Time flew by and you had almost reached the end of the movie and the scene you hated the most by the time you opened your eyes again.

The battle in the Department of Mysteries had started, green and red curses got send through the air, and you tensed up, anticipating the death of your most favorite characters of the whole series.

You had watched the movie and especially this scene countless times, but every time it got you like it was the first.

Newt noticed this, grabbing your hands and drew little circles on your palm with his thumbs, an attempt to calm you down.

When Sirius stood on the rock, fighting Lucius, only to get hit by Bellatrix’ Avada Kedavra only seconds later and you saw the look of utter horror on Harry’s face, you winced and squeezed your eyes closed, hiding your face in Newts chest.

He held you close, littering the top of your head with little kisses and not once stopping the soothing figures he drew with his hands until you regained your composure and could continue watching the movie.

After the end credits rolled off the screen, a content silence laid over the room as always after you watched a good movie, before everyone got up slowly, starting to clean up the mess they’ve made during the last two hours.

But since you hadn’t even one handful of chips, you not really felt compelled to get up and help. Also because sitting on Newts lap, his hands securely around your waist and your head on his chest, able to hear and feel his steady heartbeat was just too comfortable, you ever wanted to get up again.

Newt seemed to share your opinion, since he made no attempts on getting up, just lazily watching the rest of your friends cleaning up.

Soon the living room was clean again, and Thomas dropped down on the couch next to the two of you.

His gaze fell on your intertwined hands. “You two are sickeningly cute, you know that? Since when are you together?”

“And even more important: Why didn’t you tell us until today?”, Brenda added curiously from your other side.

“Eh..well..”

Shit. Just now you realized that you hadn’t a single idea of what you should tell them as a backstory to your “relationship”. Maybe you should have considered this beforehand, but now… too late.

You nervously turned to Newt and asked in a high-pitched voice, which you were sure displayed your nervousness way too openly: “Why don’t you tell them?”

Newt smiled and squeezed my hand reassuring. You just hoped he came up with something decent.

“Well, we are together since - I think it’s 5 weeks now, right love?”, he asked you and you just nodded, not wanting to ruin his made up the story through anything you might say.

“Why we didn’t tell you? I guess the right moment just never was there? But now you know it so it doesn’t matter anymore, right?”

Teresa ignored his last sentence and asked the next question: “And how did you come together?”

“Well, we were walking home from school together and then… I don’t know, there was this moment and… I just kissed her - I wanted to do this for a long time actually - and later we went on a few dates and now we’re a couple.”

Teresa nodded like some kind of interviewer and immediately shot Newt the next question: “And when you say 'for a long time’, what do you mean?”

Newt glanced quickly at me before he answered: “I always felt kinda… different towards her, but when I realized I loved her… that was in 8th grade I think.”

He love dme? Since… 8th grade? This can’t be true. He probably just made this up, this isn’t possible.

“Mhm.. ok.” Teresa eyed us suspiciously, she probably didn’t quite believe us.

“But speaking of time - didn’t you say you had to be home by 7, love?”, Newt asked, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall.

You nodded, even if your parents never mentioned something like this, but it was obvious to you that Newt wanted to leave as soon as possible, avoiding further questions about you non-existent relationship.

“Yeah, I guess i’m leaving now. See you tomorrow, guys”, you said, getting up from you comfortable place on Newts lap and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna walk you home, love”, Newt said and stood up too, following you out of the room after everyone said their goodbyes.

He held the door open for you and you started walking through the darkness, the cold air hitting your heated cheeks.

A comfortable silence laid over you, as you could feel Newt’s hand feeling for yours and slowly intertwining your fingers. Only now you realized how perfectly your hands fit together.

“Is it true?”, you finally broke the silence, your voice sounding through the clear air, after debating with yourself whether to ask him or not. It would break your heart if he would now tell you if was just something he made up for the satisfaction of your friends.

“What?”

“That you… loved me since 8th grade”, you answered, your stomach forming into a tight knot in anticipation of his answer.

“Yes, that’s true. Why should I lie?”

You shrugged. “But why did you never tell me? You know how bad I sometimes felt for not having a boyfriend? And how often I told myself that you would never love me back?”

He turned his head in your direction, surprised. “You feel the same?”

You shrugged again, kicking some little stones off the sidewalk, then smiled up at him. “Since 7th grade, yes. But I think I made this pretty clear, didn’t I? I mean I kissed you. And I usually don’t kiss people I don’t have feelings for.”

“Well, this is…good to know”, he rubbed his neck somewhat awkwardly,“ but you should never feel bad about not having a boyfriend, that doesn’t define you as a person. But I don’t want you to feel bad anymore, so - would you like me to be your boyfriend?”

You had stopped walking, now facing each other. “If you would like me to be your girlfriend?”

Instead of an answer, he just leaned down and pulled you into a passionate kiss, one hand behind your neck, the other on your waist, pulling you close to his warm body.

thanks for reading:)                                  want to request something?