#actually lost my mind a little trying to draw this
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relax (hwang hyunjin x fem!reader)
nerd!hyunjin x cheerleader!reader, secret relationship, heavy make out, suggestive at the end; 1.8k words
author’s note: alrighty so it may not be my best work, but i love love love the idea and i hope you’ll at least like it a little bit lol anyway enjoy and remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽
06:47 PM
you: meet me in the locker room after the match
you: don’t be late~
hyunjin’s phone buzzed as he sat uncomfortably between other students in the stands, praying that the match wouldn't take too long. it was hot and crowded and hyunjin was wondering how people could go to matches every week or so and actually enjoy it. he didn’t want to be there, wishing to disappear or teleport to his room, but he knew he had to endure in order to see you. he missed you - not that he hadn’t seen you the same day in the hallway, but what good is it for him to see you if he couldn't even talk to you?
the loud sound of the whistle snapped him out of his reverie. the other students started cheering loudly, whistling and shouting when the match started and hyunjin didn’t know what to do - was he supposed to cheer as well? or maybe boo the opposing team? he was completely lost. in this whole confusion, hyunjin tried to find you on the pitch. he noticed a few other cheerleaders before the match, but there was no trace of you. what if you weren’t even performing that day and he was sitting there for nothing?
the cheerleaders started their chant as the first point was scored and it was only then when hyunjin stood up and finally noticed you. you looked ethereal - your hair bounced with every movement and the cheerleader outfit you were wearing made his head spin. he sighed dreamily - you were absolutely beautiful and he couldn’t get over how it was him who could kiss you and hold your hand and call you his. well, not entirely.
it was hyunjin’s idea to keep your relationship a secret. as he watched you in the hallway, always surrounded by handsome jocks and plenty of your cheerleader friends, he felt small, almost nonexistent. was he even worth being near you? he felt sick at the mere thought of people seeing you together and he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. did he feel good about the whole secret relationship thing though? absolutely not, but you assured him plenty of times that you’re willing to wait as long as he needed to finally reveal yourselves. he trusted you, so he just let himself enjoy the moment.
hyunjin adjusted his glasses as another point was scored. he was bouncing his leg nervously, waiting impatiently for the referee to announce the end of the match. it was getting late and hyunjin wasn’t satisfied with only looking at you from a distance - he needed to be closer.
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
you breathed a sigh of relief when the match was over, smiling at the team and congratulating them.
“great job, boys,” you let out, trying to quickly head to the locker room. however, one of the players had a different plan and wrapped his arm around your waist. you stopped in your tracks, freezing uncomfortably.
“i’m hosting a party tonight, wanna come?” he asked, his lips too close to your ear for your liking. you smiled faintly, trying to break free from his grip.
“i’d love to, but i can’t tonight, sorry,” you said in an apologetic tone, but he didn’t seem to buy your lame excuse. he removed his hand anyway and ran to the rest of his team, leaving you alone without a word. the rest of your cheerleader team went with the boys as well, laughing at their jokes and drooling over their athletic bodies. you scoffed, but paid no further attention to it as you sprinted to the locker room to get there on time.
the room was dark when you entered it, a shiver going down your spine as you closed the door behind you. you hoped hyunjin didn’t forget or worse - didn’t change his mind.
from the very beginning you were completely infatuated by hyunjin, his talent for drawing and loser-like personality. he may have been clumsy and a bit scatterbrained, but it was exactly what made him, well, him. you tried to persuade him to let go and be open about your relationship, but he was adamant on keeping it secret. it made you a little sad, of course, but you accepted his decision regardless. in fact, if you thought about it, you kind of liked hiding in closets and stealing kisses when no one was looking.
a sudden tug on the doorknob brought you out of your thoughts. you opened the door and saw breathless hyunjin barely standing. you grabbed his shirt and dragged him inside, smiling sheepishly.
“what took you so long?” you whispered loudly, locking the door and scanning his figure. he raised his finger, taking a moment to regulate his breathing.
“i tried to avoid the crowd and, um… got lost,” hyunjin mumbled with rosy cheeks, nervously scratching the back of his neck. you giggled, taking a step in his direction and adjusting the crooked glasses on his nose. he brought his arms to your hips - a habit you taught him. he was staring at you with wide eyes and suddenly the air in the room thickened.
“why are you looking at me like that?”
“you looked really pretty today. i kinda wanted to paint you,” he whispered with rosy cheeks, his gaze wandering back and forth between your eyes and your lips. you smiled at his words, feeling as your face got warmer. you were sure he was so gonna paint you after today.
“go on,” you said, your voice barely above the whisper. “i know you wanna kiss me.” hyunjin blinked a few times, his brain going haywire. although he had kissed you plenty of times before, usually it was you who initiated it, not him.
he leaned a bit closer, his breath speeding up as you placed your hand on his cheek. he hesitated when he felt your hot breath on his face, but one look from you dispelled his worries and he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips. his moves were uncoordinated, almost random, and you quickly started to get impatient, but decided to let him take control for now. he has to learn, you thought to yourself.
your hands wandered all over his chest and face as he slowly but gradually deepened the kiss, making your head spin a little. his grip on your hips tightened and you were going feral.
“hyune,” you breathed out, pointing to the shelf standing against the wall. even in his state he managed to drag you there and awkwardly helped you to sit on it. you brought your hand to his hair, tugging at it slightly and earning a quiet groan from him.
“shit,” hyunjin muttered as his glasses tilted on his nose again. he tried to fix them, but you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your neck instead.
“leave them be,” you said, parting your legs so hyunjin could stand closer to you. he yelped as you dragged him between them, the feeling of your thighs trapping him made his brain malfunction.
after what felt like eternity you broke the kiss to catch your breath. hyunjin’s cheeks were as red as a tomato and you laughed at his state. he looked drunk, his tilted glasses only added to the impression.
“what?” he asked dumbfounded, looking around.
“nothing, just-” you reached out to adjust his glasses. “there. you looked funny.” hyunjin pouted at your words and you smiled. you felt giddy when you looked at him and you never wanted the feeling to go away.
“but you told me to leave them like that…” you giggled at his reaction, a pleasant warmth spreading in your chest.
the comfortable silence settled between you two as hyunjin intently scanned your face, taking in every detail for the millionth time. your gaze wandered after his, his brown eyes observing your features like a curious child taking in the wonders of the world.
“who was that guy you talked to after the match?” he suddenly blurted out and it took you off guard. your face twisted in confusion as you tried to recall the situation. oh.
“it was one of the teammates. he hosted a party tonight and tried to persuade me to go,” you explained, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“oh,” he let out. “okay. do you… do you like him?”
“hyune, are you jealous?” he dropped his head - suddenly your shoes were way more interesting than your face. “hey, look at me,” you ordered him softly but firmly, placing a finger under his chin.
“sorry.”
you shook your head. “you have nothing to apologise for, okay? i’m sorry that it made you jealous.” hyunjin nodded at your words, a sudden wave of guilt overflowing his senses. “if it makes you feel better, he is a complete asshole. and i don’t like him,” you laughed and he smiled faintly, straightening his back. “now, where were we?”
you leaned forward and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, your tongue asking for entrance, which made hyunjin’s knees buck under him. he grabbed your shoulders, but you only ran your hand over his back in a soothing manner. though scared, hyunjin let your tongue in - it was sloppy and uncoordinated, because even if it was you who led the kiss, he still felt like a lost child in the wilderness.
“relax,” you mumbled into his mouth as you sensed his fear. i’m trying, he wanted to say, but he only let out a small whimper, dropping his arms to rest on your hips. with all his might he forced him to cool off. relax, hyunjin, he repeated in his head over and over again and he didn’t even notice when his tongue started to move with yours in unison.
“i missed you,” you suddenly uttered, breaking the kiss. hyunjin looked at you with wide eyes.
“really?” he asked and you giggled.
“of course, dummy. why are you surprised?” you tilted your head. “aren’t my kisses enough proof?” you teased, placing your hands on his chest. his heart was pounding, all because of you.
hyunjin shrugged his shoulders, his breathing speeding up. “no! no, it’s not that, i just… i dunno, i’m- i’m scared that this-” he moved his hand between your bodies. “-is just a dream. and i don’t wanna wake up.” oh. you looked him straight in the eyes.
“you know i’m serious when i say i like you, right?” you asked hesitantly, taking his hand in yours. it was sweaty from all the tension. you rubbed his palm with your thumb to calm him down.
hyunjin looked at you with a puzzled expression. “y-yeah, i know,” he said with a shaky voice. you placed a feather-like kiss to his cheek, then another one, going down to his jaw and neck, peppering him with soft pecks - a sealing of your words. he melted under your touch, his eyes wide open as he stared into the wall behind you, unable to move. “hey, you know what? i’m kinda hungry,” you said suddenly, bringing hyunjin back to you. he let out a small hm? and you spoke again with a smirk plastered on your face. “wanna eat some ramen with me?”
taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver
#skz#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids headcanons#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz au#stray kids fluff#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin hard thoughts#hyunjin hard hours
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are you tired of being nice? don't you just wanna go apeshit?
#actually lost my mind a little trying to draw this#idk dude talked about spooky mushrooms and shit and then i blacked out and made this#cannot wait for this guy whose whole master plan in 3rd life was be friends with everyone :DD to go insane#impulsesv#impulsesv fanart#hermitcraft fanart#hermitcraft season 9#hermitcraft#hermitblr#mcyt fanart#mcyt#my art#tealarts
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Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf
More context will be in the tags, for those interested!
#hollow knight#little ghost#hk ghost#the knight#hk hornet#hornet#alright. as of writing these tags it's been a week since the original dream so! let's see what i remember dgsgsgf#i was playing a game. which was a sequel to hollow knight ((Not silksong though))#there was some new sort of divine infection in hallownest and hornet had asked ghost to investigate it. they ended the last one after all!#the red glowy spike gate thingy is what you jumped into to enter the 'infected' areas#though it actually led directly to a hub world type of place. which was kinda like an expanded base for the grimm troupe?#more like an entire lair instead of a camp. also some greek gods were there for some reason lmao. they had their own special rooms too#so sidenote but- new headcanon that there are grimm troupe members named ares athena artemis &... venus lmao. not aphrodite for some reason#also monomon was there?? i think??? except she was cooking????? she had a sidequest to deliver something to someone though i dunno hdgfhdgh#i remember going back to the grimm troupe lair a couple times throughout my 'playthrough'#anyway. the 'infection' this time around was more of a glitchy physical corruption thing? rather than a mind corruption.#though there were still aggressive enemies to fight. but i remember getting a map from cornifer early on and he was. probably infected#i think part of his body was covered in electricity or something? so he wasn't fully visible? but he was still acting normally#there was also a moth who was the seer but then later wasn't the seer (but was still the same moth) dghgdhf. i delivered stuff to her#that glowing white wall thing in the drawing was like a one-way gate. you could only cross it from the other side and ghost came from there#i guess things looped back up somehow i dunno ghdgfhgf#anyway. ghost's red eyes. those are significant! those happened while i was walking through a corridor. it had pools of shallow water#(shallow enough to just walk through) and also creatures that were lightseeds but red.the implication was that they were full of Blood lmao#and as i went along killing them--as one does--as i walked through the hall. they started turning the water red too#there was also narration about this as it was happening ashdgsf. specifically the narrator said the water turned red before it actually did#ghost's eyes slowly turned red too. but aside from that they were fine! since. they're the player character and the player is perfectly fin#BUT. when they encountered hornet again. she thought they were infected. and that she lost the only family she had left </3#she didn't attack though. instead she just jumped into the red spike gate without a word. decided to try to fix everything herself#but eventually you'd encounter her again down below and she'd fight you. didn't actually get to that in the dream though#aand i'm out of tags </3 i wanted to talk about what i'd do to make this make more sense as an au or something now that i'm awake but. :c
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who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it
#id have to be waterboarded before i can talk abt how i see a lot of my adhd and personality in mitsumi iwakura let alone post it#idk how to talk abt this without feeling like im talking over or invalidating ppls experiences relating with a character#someone was talking abt how ppl tie laios' autism to special interest and social difficulties but not much else which kinda flattens it#and then went into a respectful in depth analysis of other autistic behaviour that laios exhibits and it wasnt phrased meanly#its fascinating and important to me to hear someone explain a little bit abt traits that they recognized and often go overlooked#because it does help me learn more about it. but i think thats also where hesitancy kicks in when it comes to depicting it accurately#like i have adhd and some of my adhd symptoms overlap with autism (time blindness and pattern seeking behaviour) but that only means#it feels familiar to me even without having autism. on top of that traits arent always cleanly determined as being /caused/ by#a disorder. to understand my environment i compare it to something unrelated but similar to make it more familiar and for the longest time#i thought that was a personality thing and not an information processing thing since i loved playing pretend in my head as a kid#so if you make a character who experiences that hoping to reach people that also experience that and tell them its not weird or#smth youre making up like. thats the goal. ppl who dont get it arent expected to it just means it doesnt cater to them but it helps them#become familiar to it yk? since i dont have autism myself i dont feel confident i can depict it properly or explain it in my own words#but that doesnt mean im trying to dismiss it or try and cut it out completely.. ill just leave the floor open to someone who /can/#a lot of issues around fanon depictions are when smth is baselessly popularized or a characters personality and behavior is flattened#especially to fit them into a trending meme. its harmless and its supposed to be for fun but it gets tricky when you drag things that#need to be carefully explained beforehand or else it gets lost in translation. like that tweet abt 'hyperfixating' on cooking pasta#once it becomes popular language usually the original meaning is left out for the sake of simplifying it for everyone that when it#circles back theres a sort of hesitancy like. am i using it the way it was intended or am i unknowingly using the popularized version of it#actually thats probably why i felt wrongfooted during diagnosis bc it felt like i was misusing the words i heard to describe what i felt#i /know/ i see a lot of myself in mitsumi because our minds are always somewhere else and we tend to put good faith first and for me#that personal connection is enough. but idk it feels like its always gonna have to be 'palatable' first before i can talk abt it openly#mad respect to writers and creators who stick to their story even if theres the looming fear of ppl misinterpreting it and letting them#have it.. its been almost 2 weeks and i am so close to deleting that m3 dunmeshi drawing bc ppl keep saying chilchuck wouldnt have 200 HP#IT LITERALLY SAYS I MADE IT WHILE WATCHING EP 1. I USED EARTHBOUND LOGIC AND I WASNT EVEN TAKING IT SERIOUSLY CHILL#yapping
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idea in my head: i would love to animate what the little buddies would do while you get a combo, even if it's just like 5 frame "animation" bc i'm not good at animating
problem: how do i. draw out and animate a combo. like the actual puzzle game part, how would i even start to do that. do i just leave it up to the imagination
#i have a few in mind aaaaaaaaaa i wanna draw the little pig spinning around#i know this makes sense to none of you but i wanna talk about it#I HAVE AN OLD DRAWING OF DEO AS THIANA THAT HAS BEEN LAYING AROUND FOR *YEARS* NOW KJFHDJG#THIS IS AN IDEA I'VE HAD FOR A VERY LONG TIME BC THIS IS MY FAVORITE GAME#a distant dream of mine would be to actually retexture the game and make it playable i would kill to see that happen#but im ***so bad*** at sprite art. i draw in pixel art sometimes but i mean like. 32*16 sprite art HOW DO YOU DRAW THAT SMALL#augh i tried to make one a very long time ago for a long-dead video game au and the creator of the au liked it but. i did not.#maybe if i try again i could do a bit better today#if i retextured even one stage i would actually cry like could you imagine if that worked#i dont even know how to access that info in my roms but clearly someone knows how#bc i have an english version of the japanese game#ALSO COOL THING IF YOU'VE READ THIS FAR I ACTUALLY HAVE THAT ENGLISH/JAPANESE ROM ON A CARTRIDGE :D (it's for the snes)#the cartridge is 3d printed and red it is SOOOOO cool. got it shipped to me for $13 and it is my prized possession that's my babygirl kjfhd#i get to use my super busted up held-together-by-electric-tape controller on it yippee wahoo i like the computer roms but#i like the feedback of the real snes controllers. i have a few usb ones but it's not the same#i thought about replacing the buttons with my (second) real snes controller buttons#but. then i lost my screwdriver set when i moved back home for The Covid Year. so :/#wow that was an essay. i really needed to talk about something that wasnt strictly mcyt fkjdhg i needed a good soul cleanse i think#chat
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Let their rage consume you.
#psycho mantis#mgs#the boy on fire#mgs tretij#metal gear solid v#phoenix draws#my art#i think he's grown on me a little bit#i think he deserves to commit atrocities. for funsies#i had a lot of fun with this!#i think i got lost trying to shade the coat so i kept it really simple#I hope yall like it too!#the quote is nothing but what comes to mind when i think about little mantis#the third boy#is it obvious i just added random wrinkles and didn't care to actually make it work? probably
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Train Ride to Heaven
length: +3k words
Genre: Smut
NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader
(Author's Note: The winner of the first smut poll! I wrote this entire thing in 1.5 sittings, so it's very rough and unedited. Nevertheless, hope you horny sickos enjoy it <3)
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
A weary sigh leaves your lips as you rest the back of your head against the trembling glass of the subway. Eight years of college, even more years of brown-nosing just for a sliver of a chance at a promotion, hours of sleep lost from nights working overtime, and where did it land you? A thankless office job that considers you more of a number than a living, breathing human being. After all that, you get to go home to a loveless marriage with a woman you know for a fact is cheating on you with her personal trainer, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. Hooray for you.
You feel the subway slowly creep to a stop. A few more of those and you’ll finally be able to sleep and pretend like you're dead for a couple hours before doing it all over again. A lone girl, at least 18, walks into the car and takes a seat directly across from you - an odd move considering the entire car is completely empty aside from you. You try to ignore her, opting to get some shut-eye before you get to your stop, but you can’t deny the shift in the atmosphere from her presence. She’s a pretty young girl, all alone at this time of night. You could do anything to her and no one would even know. You shake your head at the thought. No good can come from a perverted old man like yourself.
“Psst…”
Although, there’s no fault in thinking like that if it stays in your mind. A cute girl like her could easily be taken advantage of. In fact, she’s lucky that you’re here instead of an actual sicko that would try to put their hands all over her.
“Psst… Ahjussi…”
This shitty marriage has got you all pent up. Not like you would have any energy left in you, especially after a day like this. Lucky you. Maybe if you pray hard enough, whatever god is up there will pity you and summon a woman that’ll throw themselves at you. If only life were that easy.
“Ahjussi!”
Your eyes shoot open from the sudden noise. The girl sitting across from you giggles to herself as she smiles at you. It isn’t immediately obvious due to her innocent features, but you can tell that she’s hiding something behind that smile. Something sinister, even. How exciting.
“What?” You ask. Her sly smile only grows as she subtly raises her skirt. Little by little, she reveals the supple flesh of her thighs, firm and plump. You know in the back of your mind that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be exposing herself to an old man like this, but the second you see that little bit of white cotton in between her legs, all common sense flies out the window. Suddenly, she lowers her skirt, much to your disappointment. Your emotions must have been obvious as she cackles sweetly, pointing at your face. Embarrassed, you lean back and shut your eyes, hoping she’ll leave you alone for the duration of the ride.
“Ahjussi~” she teases in a sing-songy voice. “Open your eyes~” Like a fool, you follow her orders without a second thought. This time, however, the reward is greater than you could have ever imagined. Her white cotton panties are there in full view for no one else but yourself, drawing you in like a siren. The girl bites her lip as she traces circles around her crotch, more for you rather than herself. Your cock begins to strain in your pants, begging to be set free.
“Come here,” she says, beckoning you with a single finger. You quickly do as she says and sit next to her. Up close, you can see just how deceivingly innocent she is with her big, round eyes and her thick, pouty lips. Anyone would walk by her and assume she’s a classy and upstanding student, not a little slut teasing random old men in a subway (Not that you mind).
“My name is Hanni, what’s your name?” She asks, gripping the sleeve of your blazer while she plays with herself under her skirt.
“I-I, u-um, m-my name is-”
She brings a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Actually, I don’t really care, I’m just gonna call you daddy,” Hanni giggles. You force yourself to take a deep breath in an attempt to remain composed, but inside, you’re cheering like an addicted gambler finally hitting that sweet, sweet jackpot.
“So Daddy, what are you doing riding the train home this late at night?” The lilt she puts on that word is enough to drive you insane, but you try to hold back, not wanting to scare her off if you appear too eager.
“Uh, y’know, just getting home after a long day of work. Boring office job and all that. Nothing you would find any interest in,’ you sigh. Hanni pouts, looking at you with a sympathetic expression.
“Awww poor daddy, you must be so stressed.” She holds onto your arm, pushing her perky breasts into you. Your wife has never given you so much as a glance in your direction whenever you showed up exhausted from work. She’s probably too busy texting her personal trainer. Hell, she’s probably fucking him right at this very moment. It’s only fair if you get to have some fun for yourself, right?
“Yeah, I suppose I am pretty stressed. On top of that, my wife has been cheating on me with this personal trainer guy she met a couple months ago.” As soon as you mention your wife’s adultery, a hint of a smirk appears on Hanni’s lips.
“Oh no~,” she says, feigning pity. “Maybe I can help you… feel better?” She puts your hand on your chest and inches it downwards, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Her face is close enough for you to feel her breath on your chin, but just far enough for her to escape if you try to kiss her. All you can do is wait as you feel her hand getting closer and closer closer to your raging erection. Everything fades away but the pumping of your heart and the gentle brown of her eyes. Finally, a guttural groan escapes your mouth as she grasps onto your cock, stroking it through your pants.
Hanni giggles at your expression. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Do you like it when I play with Daddy’s cock?” All you can do is nod as she continues to toy with you, rubbing and squeezing along your shaft. It’s been so long since another person has touched your penis that you almost finish right then and there, but you continue to hold it in with steely determination.
“Daddy’s cock is so big and thick, I don’t know if it’ll fit in my tiny, little mouth.” Hanni leans into your ear, tickling your skin with her breath as she whispers, “Maybe we should find out.”
“Y-yes, god yes,” you practically beg.
“Then tell me what to do,” she says. “I’m your little whore for the night. Treat me like one.” Those filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth is a memory that you will never forget until the day you die.
“Fucking suck my cock, you slut,” you command her, a little too enthusiastically. Even in the prime of your relationship, your wife would never let you talk to her like this. To have your commands followed by this cute girl is heart-poundingly exhilarating. You feel like a whole new man.
Hanni fiddles with your belt buckle at a snail’s pace. You try to do it yourself to get the ball rolling, but she swats your hand away.
“Let me do it by myself, Daddy~” she pouts. With a nod, you lean back and let her have her way, succumbing to the desires of her cuteness. If she wanted to, she could easily take over the world with her looks alone.
After unbuckling your belt and unzipping your pants, all that’s left is the fabric of your underwear separating your dick from her glossy lips. Hanni places a few gentle kisses on your bulge, drawing a moan from your belly. Giggling, her fingers hook around the waistband and pull it down at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you to wait as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Finally, your member swings up, almost hitting Hanni in the face. Her jaw drops as she gazes at your length, a look of surprise and a little bit of fear in her eyes.
“Oh shit…” she whispers to herself before shaking her head and putting back the sultry appearance she had before. “I can’t wait to choke on your big, fat cock, Daddy,” she smirks as she begins to stroke your shaft. Hanni’s hands are much softer than your wife’s, and even more skilled as she cups your balls, applying just enough pressure so that it doesn’t hurt. You watch with bated breath as she leans forward, eyeing the tip of your cock for a moment before it disappears into her open mouth. The sound of your moan echoes throughout the subway car as Hanni sucks on your tip, slowly taking in more of your length with each bob of her head. Even your wife’s cocksucking skills pale in comparison to hers, you almost feel bad for the guy that she’s fucking.
“Yes, good girl, Hanni. Suck that dick, you fucking slut,” you encourage. You notice her ass sticking up in the air, and thanks to the rumbling of the train and her bobbing motions, her skirt rides up just enough for you to peek at the white panties covering her ass, giving you the bright idea to reel back and her a good, hard spank. She moans into your cock, heightening the sensation.
“I bet you like that, you little whore.” You yank her up by the hair, forcing her to look at you, saliva covering her mouth and chin. All the inhibitions and common sense you had before are completely gone, leaving nothing behind but animalistic desire. “Say it. Say that your daddy’s little fucktoy.”
“I’m daddy’s little fucktoy,” she repeats, giggling at you. Satisfied, you release her hair and sit back, watching as she alternates between deepthroating your shaft and sucking on your balls while she strokes your entire length with her spit. You would happily quit your job and live at the subway instead if it meant you get to have this petite sex doll all to yourself every night.
Suddenly, the train comes to a stop at one of the stations and a man stumbles inside. The two of you scramble to cover up, hiding any semblance that the two of you are doing anything indecent. Much to your dismay, the man sits nearby, making it difficult for even small gestures to go unnoticed. He’s clearly not a student nor is he an office worker, so why the hell would he be riding the subway this late at night!?
“Wait,” Hanni whispers, pointing at the man. “Look.”
Confused, you watch as his body begins to sway with the movements of the train. Upon closer inspection, you notice that his eyes are struggling to stay open and his clothes are disheveled. Clearly, he’s either drunk, faded, or both. Finally, BAM - he knocks out on the seat, completely unconscious.
Hanni stifles as she gives you a knowing look. “He’ll be out for a little while so…” She bends over the seat, shaking her butt at you. “Fuck my little pussy with that cock, Daddy~,” she teases, winking back at you.
Pounding with excitement, you release your cock and stroke it back to life, while your other hand pulls down her white cotton panties, finally revealing her pinky honeypot to you. With Hanni’s saliva as lube, you line up your tip with her cunt, teasing her moist folds.
“Are you ready, baby?” you ask
“I’m so fucking rea- MMPH!” She struggles to stifle a moan as you completely bottom out inside of her, all in one thrust. So slick and so tight, you don't even care about comparing her to your wife anymore. All you want to do is ruin her little pussy and use it as your personal cocksleeve. You sink your fingers into her hips, pulling her into you with each thrust and watching her cute ass jiggle against you.
Fuck that stupid company. Fuck your stupid bitch of a wife. Your entire life you were told what to do, how to act, and what you should look like in order to succeed in life. You followed everyone’s orders to a T, even going above and beyond to obtain that success that was oh so coveted. But look where you are now - eight inches deep into some girl you just met tonight. Fuck the “high-paying job” and fuck the “hot wife”. If this isn’t success, then you don’t know what is.
“O-oh my g-god… Y-you’re so f-fucking h-huge…” Hanni squeaks in between thrusts, desperately trying to control her volume. You’re unsure how much longer you can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Whether she likes it or not, this slut is gonna leave with a gallon of your cum deep inside of her.
Hanni’s body begins to shake violently. “I-I… I’m cumming!” She shrieks wildly.” You pull out of her, watching in astonishment as she squirts all over the seats. And your wife said you could never dream of satisfying a woman - if only she could see this now.
“H-holy shit…” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder as she gasps for air. “That was… fucking insane.” Both of you laugh as you wait for her to get down from her high. Miraculously, the man didn’t notice her ear-splitting orgasm, still completely out cold.
Suddenly, Hanni straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your head. “I noticed that you didn’t cum yet, Daddy.” She gyrates your hips, rubbing her wet slit against your tip. You figure she would still be sensitive after the first round, but it’s clear she was built purely to fuck. “Maybe we should change that,” she says, biting her lips.
“Maybe we should,” you smirk. Hanni kisses you as she drops her hips onto your cock, causing her to moan into your mouth. Not wanting to give up dominance completely, you shove your tongue down her throat, filling two of her holes at once. The wet slapping of her bouncing on your cock echoes throughout the car, and at this point, you don’t care if that man wakes up or not. He could be completely conscious and recording you right now, but you still wouldn’t stop plowing this little minx. In fact, you secretly hope that he is recording right now - the whole world should know that this fucktoy named Hanni is yours and yours alone.
You rip open her top, exposing her perky tits. They are on the smaller side, but they’re big enough to jiggle with each bounce and that’s good enough for you. Hanni grabs your head as you latch onto her tits, licking and sucking every inch of her chest. The pressure begins to build in your loins and you know the end is coming soon. Wanting to milk every drop of this experience, you stand up, supporting Hanni by the ass, and begin ramming into her with every ounce of energy you have left. Rather than a 40-something-year-old man, you feel like you’re reborn again into your 20-year-old body. You feel the familiar tightening of Hanni’spussy around your member, and with one final thrust, your body is elevated to Heaven. Shooting rope after rope into her deep cunt, the high is nothing like you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Not even your wife- Ah, who cares about her. She’s nothing but dirt under your foot, while Hanni is an angel sent from above.
You gently place her down on the seat before collapsing next to her, shutting your eyes so you can replay this entire experience in your head. Never in your life did you think you would ever get this lucky. The train comes to a halt, and a hand pats your shoulder.
“Sorry Daddy, but this is my stop,” she giggles as she skips towards the open doors. Despite the rough pounding you just gave her, she somehow managed to look presentable in the short time that your eyes were closed. “I’ll see you around, Daddy~”
The last thing you see is her wink before hopping off the train and disappearing into the night. You’re disappointed that you didn’t ask for her contact information before she left, but you’re confident that you’ll cross paths with her again in the future. Surely, whatever god that heard your prayers isn’t that cruel, right?
As you approach your stop, you quickly get yourself sorted, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from passersby. If your wife asks about any mysterious “stains” on you, you could easily attribute it to being clumsy while drinking. Not that she would care enough to ask anyway.
Upon exiting the car, a police officer stops you as you approach the stairs.
“Excuse me, sir,” he says. You try to ignore him, hoping that there’s someone behind you that he’s referring to, but unfortunately, nobody else is around. “Sir, I need to talk to you for just a moment.”
“What’s the problem, officer?” You ask, hiding your panic behind a nervous smile. A whirlwind of questions swarm your mind. Is this about Hanni? Did you get caught? Was it that drunk guy that sold you out? Beads of sweat begin to form on your head as the police officer questions you.
“There has been an increase in robberies in the subway recently and I just want to ask if you saw any suspicious individuals lurking around the subway.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the heat isn’t on you. “Well, no officer, I haven’t seen any suspicious individuals around,” you reply.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “All the victims have described the suspect as being a short Asian girl, about 18 years of age, with big brown eyes and black hair. Does that ring any bells for you?
An alarm blares throughout your head. Surely he’s lying, right? Maybe he’s talking about a different Asian girl. There are probably thousands, no, MILLIONS of people that fit that criteria. Besides, you and Hanni shared a special connection tonight. She’s the answer to everything that ever went wrong in your life, an angel sent from Heaven to cure you of your miseries. Hanni wouldn’t lie to you, right?
You dig through your pockets, frantically scrambling for your wallet and your phone. You feel something in your pocket and pull it out, only to be filled with dread at the sight of it - white cotton panties.
#newjeans#pham hanni#newjeans hanni#kpop fanfic#kpop gg#hanni x male oc#newjeans hanni x male oc#hanni x male reader#newjeans hanni x male reader#smut#hanni smut#newjeans hanni smut
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the pact
summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
—
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
—
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
—
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#Harry styles#harry styles fic#harryslittlefreakk#harry styles masterlist
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How would each CoD character react to you touching their cheek for the first time? (In a caressing way)
A/N: Oh my god, this is actually the cutest and I couldn't think of a better way to start off this blog, thank you for this, love! I hope you enjoy! ~ Hannah
ALEX KELLER
Oh, this man is absolutely melting the second your hand cups the side of his face.
The goofiest damn grin on his face, corners of his eyes crinkling, soft laugh rumbling in his chest.
"How ya doing, sweetheart? Hanging in there?" Man is always concerned with you and your well-being.
Absolutely is the type of person to just completely nuzzle into your touch, soft sigh of content leaving his lips.
You aren't getting your hand back any time soon. Try and pull away, and he will absolutely pull the kicked puppy look. You can't bring yourself to pull away anyway.
ALEJANDRO VARGAS
"Oh, is there something you need, mi vida?" This motherfucker and his sweet, smooth voice. Love him.
He will gently draw you in close with a hand on your waist, that signature cheeky grin on his lips. He'll gently take your hand in his and just press sweet kisses to your fingertips.
This will lead to him pulling you aside for a moment, peppering you in sweet kisses and showering you in the most endearing compliments in Spanish.
Expect to be walking away with a spring in your step and a flushed face.
GARY "ROACH" SANDERSON
At first, he will look wildly confused, his brows furrowing slightly and his head cocking to the side.
"What's up, hun? Everything okay?" He signs the term of endearment with so much passion every time, it is absolutely the sweetest and most heartwarming thing. Any term of endearment he uses is always signed with more passion than anything else.
Once you let him know you just wanted to love on him, this cheeky little shit is flirting with you like crazy.
"Oh, just wanted to love on me, huh? Well, there's more ways you could-" He cuts his signing off with his own laughter when you playfully shove his face away, and he follows after you, making obnoxious kissy noises.
He makes it up to you, though, with the most affectionate kisses. He's goofy and that reflects in how he shows you his love.
(Can you tell I love Roach? I love him very much.)
JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH
Johnny will take your other hand, place it on his other cheek, and will gently press your hands against his cheeks to squish his face.
He hums happily, reveling in your touch as his eyes shut and his lips curl into a smile.
"Always know what I need before I even do, mo chridhe." This man is so, so whipped for you. Looks at you with so much love and affection that you might as well melt before him.
Do expect this to end up with you wrapped up in his arms, snuggled close, the Scotsman whispering some of the stupidest jokes known to man to you in an effort to get you to laugh.
JOHN PRICE
I have like a very specific image in mind for this one!
He tends to work himself to the bone, getting lost and caught up in his work, and its very, very hard to get him out of it. It's one of those nights where you find him hunched over his desk, nose buried in his work.
You walk up behind him, gently resting your hand on his cheek and he pauses, tilting his head back to look up at you.
Despite the exhaustion, his expression softens, the tender smile on his face highlighting the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.
"It's late, isn't it...? Mmm... Alright, dearest, I'll head to bed."
He gently grasps your wrist and tilts his head to press a fleeting kiss to your palm, and then to the pulse point on your wrist. It takes a bit more convincing before he's off to bed.
(I'm a bit biased, I'm a major John Price simp if you couldn't tell.)
KEEGAN RUSS
Look, I firmly believe our resident masked men are softies, but they're all different in terms of their softness.
This man is a softie with you, but good god, is he suave and flirty.
"Mmm, what's up, kid...? Just looking for an excuse to see my face, hm? All you had to do was ask." It should be illegal how much this man's voice sounds like a silky purr.
Soft kisses to your fingers, knuckles, and the back of your palm. Fleeting kisses that barely meet, brushing against your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
"Always so sweet for me, kid."
KÖNIG
(Apparently this man is a colonel? And from what I've seen, if he joined at 18, and if we take the average amount of time it takes to get to that rank... This man is likely in his early 40s. Dilf König? Dilf König.)
Masked man number two! Softie, but different from Keegan. This man is the shy sort of soft.
I imagine this would happen after he shows you his face for the first time. He grew up bullied for his appearance, among other things, and its made him rather insecure about his looks.
When you gently cup the side of his face after studying him for a moment, he heaves a shuddering sigh and averts his gaze shyly. But, the second you tell him how handsome he is, his face goes pink and he flushes shyly.
"Ah, meine Sonne und Sterne... You're going to make me melt." He then proceeds to kiss you softly on the forehead and tells you how much he loves you.
KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK
A pleasant flush works its way onto his cheeks and he gives you that beautiful smile full of sunshine.
"Missed you, lovely. You been taking good care of yourself?" Sweet, heartless man that he is, worrying about you even though he looks exhausted after his most recent mission.
Gently draws you into him and just hugs you tight, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and sighing happily. The second your cologne or perfume washes over him, all tension leaves him completely.
"Missed this. Missed you." Whispered words against your skin. He gently sways in place with you as you two embrace, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Fully cherishes the moment.
"How's about some takeout and we finally watch that show you've been talking about? The House of the Dragon, right? Hopefully its better than the last few seasons of Game of Thrones." You have a stellar date in as you binge the entirety of The House of the Dragon and make up for lost cuddling time.
(Gaz does NOT get enough love and it's criminal. Perfect boyfriend/husband material right here. I adore him. Also? Man is absolutely gorgeous? Best man.)
NIKOLAI
(Russian dilf? Yes please! Underrated man right here.)
Late nights in bed, curled up with him are always the sweetest. Soft whispered nothings as you both lay together, skin on skin, fully content in a post sex haze.
He shoots you a lazy grin as you cup his face, his hand gently rubbing up and down the expanse of your back. "What's on your mind, мое солнышко? Laying there looking so stunning..."
Soft, playful kisses are placed along your jaw, a cheeky smirk on his lips when you begin to protest, laughter in your voice.
"One more round wouldn't hurt... We can sleep in tomorrow morning, Золотце." You know damn well you're going to be exhausted in the morning as he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin.
RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA
(Rudy, my darling, my beloved, my SWEET! This man is also criminally underrated even though he's PERFECT husband material. SHAME!)
He happily returns the favor as you rest your hand against his cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours.
"Long day, cariño? Mmm, I understand... I'll draw us a bath and we can relax." He takes your hand, pressing sweet kisses to your knuckles before he draws a bath for the both of you.
You both spend most of the evening in the tub, you resting against his back as he holds you close, featherlight kisses pressed to your skin as you both talk about your day.
The both of you take such good care of each other, and there's never less than 100% put into your relationship on both sides.
SIMON "GHOST" RILEY
Masked softie number 3: Tender and longing edition.
His night terrors don't often wake you; he's usually fairly good at hiding them. The first time he does wake you is during a particularly violent one that has him thrashing and crying out in his sleep.
He wakes not long after you do, sweating and panting, his voice hoarse from how much he had been crying out. Once you're sure he's fully conscious, you gently rest your hand against his cheek and guide him through a grounding routine: 5 things he sees, 4 people he knows, 3 foods he likes, 2 things he hates, and one thing he loves.
As he talks, you become his sole focus as the night terror fades into the back of his mind, the grounding method working wonders.
And when it comes to the one thing he loves, he shuts his eyes and presses further into your touch, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. One hand gently clutches your wrist while the other rests against yours, holding your hand against his cheek. He doesn't need to say it. You know.
You always, always know. And with a kiss to his forehead and your thumb stroking against his cheek, you let him know. I love you too.
[I'M SORRY IF ANY OF THE TRANSLATIONS ARE INCORRECT, I TRIED MY BEST TO GET THE PROPER ONES!]
Mi vida - My life; honey
Mo chridhe - My heart
Meine Sonne und Sterne - My sun and stars
мое солнышко - My sunshine
Золотце - Honey; darling
Cariño - Honey; dear
TAGLIST:
@floral-force
#cod mw2#cod headcanons#cod imagine#cod x reader#alex keller x reader#alex keller#alejandro vargas x reader#alejandro vargas#gary roach sanderson x reader#roach x reader#gary roach sanderson#soap mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain price x reader#captain price#john price#keegan russ x reader#keegan russ#konig x reader#konig#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gaz mw2#nikolai x reader#nikolai mw2#rodolfo rudy parra x reader#rudy x reader#rudy parra#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley
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Baby Jr | Three
— Salacious Daydreaming
Series Masterlist
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.
pairing: carlos sainz x reader
warnings: 18+ smut, bj, allusions to unprotected sex (don’t do that)
wc: 3.1k
You were the only one remaining in the meeting room, taking down last-minute notes, when you heard someone step in and close the door, drawing your attention to them. It was Carlos.
With a swift stride, he approached you, yanking your chair away from the table. He tilted your chin upwards, and placed his lips on yours. You didn't have time to say anything; only a gasp escaped your lips before your eyes closed and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him. While you remained seated in the chair, his own palms moved down your sides and he tightened his hold around your waist before lifting you up.
Carlos' lips remained on yours, claiming each gasp and moan that left your mouth, muffling the sounds for any potential listeners outside. Briefly losing yourself amidst his kisses, you were startled by the clattering sounds of the items falling to the ground that were once on the table. Carlos cleared your belongings to make room on the table before setting you down on it.
He pecked your lips again and then began to back away, causing a whine to escape your mouth. Your palms immediately clasped his cheeks, luring him in for another kiss. He chuckled at your antics, but still followed along. Attaching your lips together until you lost your breath to the point of potential dizziness, yet you would gladly give it up again and again just to become intoxicated by his kisses.
Carlos kneeled down in front of you, causing you to instantly spread your legs, placing one foot on the table's edge while your palm tangled in his hair.
You wrinkled your brows, unable to hear a word that came out of his mouth as he gazed up at you and said something. Then, you heard your name, but it wasn't spoken by Carlos.
You quickly blinked a few times after feeling a palm shake you by your shoulder and you realized that you weren't in a conference room with Carlos but rather with your regular media team amidst a meeting. You were thinking about Carlos even though he wasn't physically there.
"Sorry, can you repeat that?" you asked and scanned over everyone for a brief moment, not knowing who actually spoke.
"Are you feeling alright?" One of your closest colleagues, Ava, asked instead.
You nodded, refraining from responding verbally while clenching your thighs together. Your cheeks had heated up in shame over having zoned out in the middle of the conference for the first time ever, but also due to the specific scenario you were envisioning in your daydream.
The meeting resumed as normal, with another member repeating her words from earlier.
"As I was saying..."
You tried to focus on her words, but your gaze focused on Carlos who was walking alongside Charles just outside of the room.
You believed that he could feel your gaze because he stopped walking and looked through the glass doors, easily spotting you inside. You were no longer paying attention to the meeting as soon as he made direct eye contact with you.
He raised his brows in question, wanting to know the thoughts running through your mind while sitting in a meeting, especially since your gaze on him remained unwavering. The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk, a little egotistical once he realized that all your attention was for him and only him.
Charles' didn't notice the little staring contest going on between you and Carlos since he was still sharing the latest piece of gossip he had heard earlier from Pierre. Similar to you, nothing that left his mouth was heard by Carlos.
His attention remained on you, disregarding his teammate completely. Carlos winked after he gently jerked his head in the direction of the corridor from which he had come, trying to communicate nonverbally.
In response, you furrowed your eyebrows briefly before raising them in confusion. He playfully rolled his eyes, and glanced at Charles to check if he was paying attention but saw him smiling while texting on his phone.
Again, rolling his eyes at his teammates' antics, Carlos looked at you. This time, he pointed his finger at you, then beckoned you to come closer.
Your eyes widened and you began shaking your head before stopping and thinking about the possible consequences of leaving a meeting in the middle, something you had never done before.
Fortunately, no one was sitting across from you which meant you had a clear view of Carlos. However, Ava was sitting next to you, which meant that she also had a clear view of Carlos.
She watched the silent conversation you attempted to have with him but she didn't understand a single thing. Instead, she nudged you again, quickly gaining your attention this time.
"What's going on?" She asked, her gaze moving between you and Carlos.
"Nothing, why?" You were tempted to shift your sight back towards Carlos, but didn't want to bring unwanted attention from anyone else.
"You don't look well, are you sure you're fine?" Ava muttered quietly enough, leaning closer towards you.
Resting your head against her shoulder, you sighed. This was the perfect moment to leave considering you also had a proper excuse, and you were beginning to contemplate it.
Your decision was made once you saw Carlos, in your peripheral vision, leaning against the wall outside the door by himself, waiting for you.
"Maybe I don't feel too well," you whispered. Lifting your head, you looked at Ava, "do you think I could leave?"
"Maybe she'll let it go, since you never left abruptly like this," she shrugged. You turned to look at Silvia, your supervisor, who was in charge of the meeting. You didn't even pay attention to when the slideshow presentation she was delivering began, so as you saw it, your eyes widened.
You realized Ava wasn't incorrect after giving her words some thought. She was unaware, though, that you were merely lying to her about your health and that Carlos was the true reason you wanted to leave. The fact that the conference was boring didn't make matters any better.
"Any questions before we continue?" Silvia's voice cut through your thoughts. She gazed at everyone one by one. Once her gaze landed on you, you fanned yourself exaggeratedly and pointed at the door.
Although she furrowed her brows for a moment since she couldn't see out the door from her standpoint, she nodded, allowing you to leave.
Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you began gathering your items to leave. "I'll come check on you later and give you the rundown of the entire meeting," Ava stated.
"The entire meeting? I was here for at least half of it," you muttered back a response, trying to remain quiet since the meeting continued.
"You were barely focused, now go before you distract me too."
However, as soon as you left the conference room, Carlos was nowhere to be seen. Shaking your head at his antics, you began walking down the hallway he pointed at earlier.
Once you reached the end of the hallway, a hand pulled you over to the right; Carlos. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in between as his hands rested flat beside your head.
"Hi," he muttered, his gaze always watchful, but a tad bit softer this time as he admired you.
With your lips turning up in a smile, you pressed your hands against his chest but without any intent to push him away. "You're crazy," you responded, watching how his eyes twinkled with delight.
"Me? You're the one who left in the middle of the meeting," he shot back, making you drop your jaw with a gasp.
"And who's fault is that?"
He pressed his lips together to prevent a smile, tilting his head to the side. "Are you saying that you left because of me?"
"Not at all, it was boring anyways," you replied, biting your tongue at the brief exposure of your thoughts that your words revealed.
He nodded, "no." You knew he didn't believe you at all, but you still smiled, not really wanting him to believe you either.
"You were standing outside like a freak, how could I not be distracted?" You reasoned, earing raised eyebrows from him.
"I don't blame you, I'm quite the view to look at," he spoke with a chuckle.
You slapped his shoulder playfully, "why'd you call me out anyways?"
He smirked, "as if you don't know why." Dropping one hand from the wall, he wrapped it around your waist, pulling you closer. "I want you," he added.
"You had me a few hours ago."
He dropped his head against your shoulder, sighing. You chuckled, knowing that you wouldn't deny him, especially as you were the one dreaming about him midday, but you simply wanted to spark a reaction out of him.
Ever since that one night you spent together in your hotel room, those daydreams of yours came more often. And, as it turned out, that one night spent together didn't remain as only one night. A lot of the following nights—even days—were spent in each other's hotel rooms, or his driver's room.
Once the restraint between you snapped that night, you began craving him constantly, and it didn't help that the chemistry you shared with him continued blooming. Neither of you planned on slowing down, avariciously relishing each intimate minute spent together. However, the more time you spent together, the excitement of ignoring the repercussions started to seep into your skin and only continued to fuel your desire.
You felt his lips graze your neck, lightly at first but then with more prominent kisses. You lightly gasped when he kissed and sucked at the spot behind your ear.
Before your mind filtered out all thoughts except of him and only him, you patted his shoulder. "Carlos."
He hummed to acknowledge you but didn't relent.
"Not here," you mumbled.
Even if you were in one of the enclosed hallways where people rarely passed, you would be visible if someone were to go by.
He lifted his head, looking at you with a fond smile, "then where?"
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the smile on your face told a different story. "As if you don't know where," you imitated his words from earlier.
Stepping away from you, he exaggerated a bow, "well then lead the way, cariño."
Heading to his driver's room together, you chuckled and moved ahead of him. When you turned to look behind you and saw his eyes fixed on your ass, your suspicions about why he had asked you to walk in front of him were confirmed.
You were compelled to walk quickly because of the heat in his eyes, wanting to hide from potential bystanders and enjoy each other in private.
He followed you inside the room, closing the door behind. You stopped once you were standing in the middle of the room, glancing back and waiting for him to approach you.
Moments later you felt the heat of his body radiating towards you. His fingers skimmed over your sides, following your natural curves.
"I was wondering," he began, earning a hum from you, urging him to continue. "Did you miss me? Is that why you agreed so easily when I called you out?"
For a brief moment, you stopped, and Carlos sensed the tension entering your body. You turned to face him as he put his palms against your hips.
He moved his palm to your cheek, cradling it with such utmost care that all the tension dissipated into thin air. You scoffed at his question, a teasing smile making its way to your face.
"I didn't miss you." You trailed your fingers down his chest with your gaze following your movements.
Teasing the hem of his shirt, your fingers slipped underneath for a moment before hooking onto the waistband of his trousers. With your hands still moving lower, your eyes focused on his face. The corner of your lips turned up in a smirk once you saw his gaze unwavering from your hand.
The mere feeling of your fingers sliding up his clothed length already had him throbbing for the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him.
The hand that had been on your cheek shifted to the back of your neck, drawing you in. By applying more pressure to his bulge and trying to wrap your hand as much as possible with the fabric in between, Carlos' jaw fell open.
"If you missed it that much, get down on your knees and suck it then," he muttered against your lips, grazing them but not kissing you just yet.
He dropped his hands from your body, but as soon as he did, he itched to touch you again.
You hummed, pretending to contemplate it for a moment even though you had already made your decision. "Say please."
He licked his lips, immediately drawing your attention to the motion. Your hand remained still on his crotch, and he knew you could feel his cock pulsing beneath the heat of your palm, longing for a satisfactory touch.
You would give him everything he wanted, all he had to do was ask.
Carlos whispered your name, hanging on to each syllable with such longing, and you almost gave in. When you didn't budge, he spoke your name with more assurance, then added, "please."
You pressed a peck to his cheek, "as you wish, darling."
You tugged his trousers down by hooking your fingers into the waistband. You were as eager as he was, but he lacked the restraint to hide how much he desired you.
You locked your gaze with his, unwavering even as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. You couldn't help but tease him a little more as you pressed open mouthed kisses over his clothed cock, now only his boxers remaining as a barrier.
He groaned, "c'mon baby, you look so pretty on your knees for me."
You chuckled, finally giving in because if you continued teasing him, it would be torture for you too considering you've already soaked through your panties while sitting in the meeting earlier. You've missed the weight of his cock in your hands, even if the last time you held it was only a few hours ago in this very room.
Discarding the last piece of clothing, you held his hardened length in your hand. Gathering a bit of saliva in your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and drooled over the tip, spreading it with your palm.
He attempted to keep his gaze fixed on you, watching as you lavished much-needed attention on him, but he failed and closed his eyes as you licked his cock from the base to the tip. In a steady manner, you ran your hand up and down the length while swirling your tongue around the tip.
You placed the weight of his cock flat on your tongue before hollowing your cheeks out and sealing your lips around him. Taking him as deep as you could, you quickly felt his tip hit the back of your throat.
Your eyes quickly watered as you felt Carlos rest his hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before holding it up in a ponytail.
"I know you can take more than that, cariño." He didn't urge you forward, but you placed your free hand on top of his that was resting in your hair, silently allowing him to do it.
Once you slid your hand away, his other hand rested on your jaw, stilling you as he began to thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of the warmth of your mouth.
The obscene sounds of you gagging on his cock were joined by his groans and praises. His sweet words made you place your palm between your legs, over your clothed pussy, slowly grinding down on it to relieve some pressure.
With a few warnings from him and a couple thrusts later, his hot cum filled your mouth, seeping down your throat and dripping down your chin as he pulled back. You were still on your knees, and that's when he noticed your hand between your own legs.
He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, watching as you frustratingly continued grinding down on your hand, while you used your other hand and swiped your fingers through his cum dribbling down your chin before licking it off with your tongue.
"Let me make you feel good," Carlos said, reaching his hand out to lift you up as you stood up.
Briefly scanning the room, he decided to sit on the couch with you in his lap. His gaze passed over the massage table in the back of the room, and he made the mental note to remember it for the next time you found yourself in his driver's room.
Amongst giggles, praises, and kisses, you used Carlos' skillful hands and cock to bring yourself over the edge twice.
The day turned to evening by the time you stood with him just by the door before leaving. This time of day, there weren't many team members in the motorhome, but you should have guessed that Carlos' teammate would be close by.
Charles spotted you as he left his own driver's room on the opposite side, greeting you and Carlos.
"You're here? Ava was looking for you earlier, and said you weren't feeling well." You glanced at Carlos, who was attempting to hide a teasing smile behind his palm and if Charles wasn't standing right there, you would've smacked the Spaniard.
"Oh, was she? I didn't know." You remembered that she promised to visit you after the meeting was over, but you had forgotten that fact when you were on your knees for Carlos.
"Are you feeling better now?" Charles questioned, and you were relieved that he remained oblivious to the predicament that was right in front of him. Particularly when you and Carlos gradually started to undervalue the significance of maintaining the secrecy of your newfound situationship.
You nodded, but before you could verbally respond, Carlos replied, "trust me, mate, she's feeling much better."
"I think I should go find Ava," you stated, muttering goodbyes before parting away from the Ferrari drivers. You looked back at Carlos with widened eyes, shaking your head at his antics. He simply chuckled, then immersed himself in a conversation with Charles.
He wasn't wrong, however, you were in fact feeling much better than before. As you walked away, you could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, staining your work trousers since Carlos had ripped your panties to shreds.
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#babyjr fic#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#thef1diary fic#f1 smut#f1 imagines#x reader#smut#f1 series
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ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls
Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac
Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover?
CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol)
WC: 4k of 10.4k
Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.
A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.
Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!
Enjoy!
“In the next 500ft, turn left.”
This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere.
You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy.
One measly bar.
The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well.
Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.
Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.
Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts.
Sigh.
You had never wanted to be That Girl™.
You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating.
But you were a woman at the end of her rope.
What else could you do?
For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear.
The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.
Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details.
For your own safety.
He would say with an arrogant smirk.
But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.
That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.
Truly, you were already like a little family.
Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that.
But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.
Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).
You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted.
You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.
You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you.
A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking.
Did he need a break from you too as well?
You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out.
So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.
Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts.
You initially balked at her.
Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.
Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.
True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi.
He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.
You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question:
What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust?
And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?
Touché.
Tsukumo had you there.
“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?”
Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.
“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”
Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something.
“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”
Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.
You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.
Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.
You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night.
Almost there.
You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.
However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.
You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area.
Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back.
☠
Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.
Goddamn it, Toji.
“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.” Toji’s voice rang in your mind.
Well the big lunk he was wrong.
You had driven at least 33 miles so far.
You mentally cussed him again.
Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.
You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass.
Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.
Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.
Option 1: Call AAA
You had zero bars though.
Fuck.
Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.
You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.
If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.
He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.
Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.
Really the only viable option you had.
It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.
Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home.
And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.
Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym.
You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts.
You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries.
Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.
Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.
You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you.
The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.
Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward.
The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders.
“Fuck you, Toji.”
You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.
You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now.
You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him.
You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner.
Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.
There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls.
Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.
The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.
You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way.
You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.
The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward.
You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.
You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough.
Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.
As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance.
Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.
Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.
A pack of wolves.
Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.
You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws.
Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.
With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses.
Then you hear it.
From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before.
The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.
Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…
...something terrifyingly unhuman.
The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving.
You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.
The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.
You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase.
The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.
Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward.
Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.
Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support.
You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you.
The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air.
Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.
Was this it?
Was this how you died?
You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way.
You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea.
But ultimately this was all your fault.
You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.
You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi.
Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs.
The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.
However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.
Wait– T-The hell?!
You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.
The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body.
Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.
From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.
The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles.
Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber.
Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.
What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being–
Toji?!
As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete.
Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.
He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.
The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.
He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.
Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.
Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?
Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity.
His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force.
“T-T-Toji?”
You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs.
“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?”
Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear.
Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.
He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations.
It was safer that way, for all of you.
You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.
But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.
Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now.
Not with you needing protection from him too.
Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon.
The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.
He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.
Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you?
You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter.
He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut.
“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!”
Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.
Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.
You looked so appetizing.
He needed you.
However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.
“Y-Y/N…”
His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.
Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure.
You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.
“Just calm down. It’s OK.”
Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you.
There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.
Good girl.
It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.
But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place.
The pressure had officially gotten to you.
Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.
You snapped.
“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”
You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.
The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.
“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”
A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.
Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well.
His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.
He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.
Things never happened the easy way with you.
Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.
A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.
“Run.”
P2 HERE!
© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!
Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!
I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.
Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!
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LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2.
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#☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳#♋︎kizzatcooks#♋︎kizzatcookedthat#kinktober 2023#kinktober#Toji Fushiguro smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#Toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#Toji x you#jjk Toji#Toji Fushiguro#Toji smut#Toji x black reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x black reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#werewolf toji#werewolf smut#werewolf x reader#teratophillia#werewolf boyfriend#monster boyfriend#Toji x black!reader
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For the angst prompt if you’re still doing it:
“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”
Please
Hello! I'm afraid this one might not have come out quite as seriously as the others (might be channeling all my Serious Angst Energy into my ongoing fic at the moment), but hopefully it's enjoyable, anyway??
[No warnings except maybe some unkind self-directed internal dialogue from Steve]
-
“Y’know,” Eddie drawls, looking Steve up and down where he’s standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the front hall, “correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look especially busy.”
Steve, caught out in a lie, clearly having been sitting around at home in his sweats when he’d specifically told Eddie that he couldn’t come over tonight because he was busy, does the only thing he can think of: he keeps lying.
“I am,” he says.
“Uh huh.” The way Eddie draws the hum of his agreement out says that he doesn’t believe Steve in the slightest. “And what, if I may ask, are you busy with, dressed in loungewear and sitting at home?”
Scrambling, Steve reaches for the first excuse that comes to mind, something he’d heard his mother say to someone over the phone years ago, when he was still a kid and she’d still made excuses to get out of social engagements and stay home with him.
“I’m washing my hair.”
Eddie bites down on a laugh so quickly and so visibly, Steve is surprised his teeth don’t go right through his lip.
“Are you?” Eddie asks, voice gone high and tight with mirth.
“Yep,” Steve answers.
“Well, damn, I don’t know why you didn’t invite me along to help,” Eddie says, grinning at Steve. “I feel like I’ve proven my skill in that arena before.”
Steve stares at Eddie, mouth working, feeling slow and useless and out of ideas. “Uh…”
With a sigh, Eddie lets his smile drop. “Look, can I come inside?”
The jig is up, so Steve just nods and steps aside to let Eddie in.
“What are you even doing here?” Steve asks as he leads the way back to the living room, where he’d been sitting on the couch and moping.
“Steve, I knew you weren’t busy tonight. You’re kind of a terrible liar,” Eddie says.
And that isn’t strictly true; Steve is a great liar – as long as he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He’s never been good at lying to people he loves.
They sit down; Steve shoves the magazines he’d been pretending he would actually be able to focus on out of the way (more proof of his pathetic attempt at a lie), and Eddie—ever blunt, ever direct—jumps right in.
“So I kind of feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
Steve winces. “Not avoiding you, I’ve just been… limiting my time with you.”
Eddie looks stricken, and Steve would like to die, actually. Why did he phrase it that way?
“Did… I do something, or say something, or, like–”
“No!” Steve rushes to reassure him. “No, no, not at all, it’s nothing you did, you’re amazing, it’s not you, it’s…”
Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “It’s not me, it’s you?”
“I mean…” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of, yeah.”
For a long moment, Eddie sits, brows furrowed, staring at Steve. Steve fights the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m trying super hard to figure out what’s going on right now, but I’m kind of coming up blank,” Eddie finally admits. “Are we… Are we breaking up?”
“No!” Steve blurts again, reaching this time for Eddie’s hands, as if he can keep Eddie from realizing what a goddamn idiot he is and leaving if he just holds on tightly enough. “Shit, no, that’s – I’m completely fucking this up, that’s the opposite of what I want to happen, that’s why I’ve been limiting my time with you.”
Though Eddie’s hands have turned in Steve’s grip, automatically holding onto him, he stares at Steve as though he’s lost his mind, which is fair. “Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “I admit you have a little more experience with relationships than I do, but isn’t the point to spend as much time as possible with the person you’re dating? Because you like them?”
“It’s… Usually, I guess, yeah.” Steve shrugs, suddenly wishing maybe that he hadn’t taken Eddie’s hands, because now he can’t get away, can’t duck out from under those dark, searching eyes. He settles for staring down at their joined hands as he speaks. “It’s just – I can be… kind of a lot? I like someone and I just kind of slam my foot on the gas and don’t look back and that’s too much, I know, so I’ve been trying not to, like, overwhelm you, because I really, really don’t want you to get sick of me, and–”
“Who the hell told you that?” Eddie cuts in sharply.
Steve’s eyes snap back up, finding Eddie looking so thoroughly offended that he’s not sure what to make of it. “Told me what?”
“That you’re too much,” Eddie presses, his hands going tighter around Steve’s.
“Uh,” Steve says, uncertain of what kind of answer Eddie’s looking for. The fact that Steve goes all-in too quickly is just common knowledge; the fact that it overwhelms and annoys people is kind of a general consensus.
Eddie shakes his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t even matter. Don’t listen to them. Don’t you ever listen to them,” he says, low and intense. “You’re not going to overwhelm me, Steve. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you, but the only way I’m gonna know for sure is if I get to have you around as often as possible for as long as you can stand me.”
The words, for a moment, don’t make any sense. No one has ever wanted Steve around that much; no one’s ever met him where he is in terms of hunger for companionship.
“You… want me around that often?” he asks, eyes flicking from Eddie’s face to their hands and back again.
“I want you around all the goddamn time. I want you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I’m having breakfast and when I’m doing shit around the house and when I’m playing a show and when I’m watching TV,” Eddie rattles off. “I’m not even exaggerating, it’s honestly kind of a problem.”
“A problem?” Steve asks, brows coming together in concern.
“It’s a problem because you’ve been limiting your time, thinking that I’m going to get tired of you.” Eddie disentangles their hands and reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw, palms soft and a little sweaty from their combined grip, but gentle—almost reverent—against his skin. “Sweetheart, I am never going to get tired of you.”
From anyone else, that would be hard to believe, but the way Eddie looks at him, dead-on and so fucking sincere, Steve can’t help but take the promise in with a hopeful flutter in his chest. He leans forward, pressing his mouth to Eddie’s, keeping the kiss chaste and slow before he pulls back to murmur, “Promise?”
“Promise,” Eddie answers immediately. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”
He tugs Steve forward after that, pushing and pulling him until he’s managed to lay out across the length of the couch and has situated Steve over him, lying on his chest like a weighted blanket. He sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, like he still wants to pull him closer.
“Perfect,” he says.
“Yeah?” Steve asks, balancing his chin Eddie’s sternum so he can smile up at him.
“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Now I just have to figure out how to keep you this close all the time.”
“Might be kinda tough,” Steve says, fighting to keep his smile from growing to ridiculous proportions.
“Eh.” Eddie shrugs, ducking down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m willing to take the time to figure it out.”
And somehow, Steve thinks that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddiesteve#eddie is perfectly content to be smothered actually please and thank you#solar wrote#answers from solar#anonymous
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Could we possibly get a spanking blurb I don’t care which Eddie I just need him to beat my ass😩
sure why not lol. for freaky friday. this was longer than i meant it to be lol.
thinking of going with the classic, dom!eddie. smut ahead. minors dni.
"Grab some plates." You nod towards the cabinet, steam lifting from the pot of pasta boiling on the stove beneath you.
"Plates?" Eddie hummed, tone lilting in a playful way, hand sliding over your hip when he passed you. "Plates for mac and cheese?"
"Yes," You huffed, fighting back an eye roll. You knew he was watching you, itching for you to slip, give him a reason to punish you.
You were so close to winning. Tomorrow, you'd wake up victorious in your little bet with Eddie. A silly bet that started playful until both your competitive natures turned it to something more.
"You couldn't act right if your life depended on it." Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. "I think it would actually kill you to be sweet for a few days. Not be bratty for once in your life. No way you could do it."
"Please," You huffed back. "I could do it, but you piss me off. Get me to that point."
"That right?" Eddie hummed, tongue rolling down his cheek.
"You know it is." You lifted your brows. "You can't help it. You love it too much. Just push me to my limit where I snap."
"Care to make a little wager?" Eddie's eyes dazzled, bright with excitement that left your tummy flipping. "Four days. I won't provoke you, you don't brat to me. You make it the full four days, you win. If you don't, I win."
"What do I win?" You chirped smugly. "Because I will win."
Eddie bit back a grin. It was going to be too easy. You couldn't help it. "Loser has to do whatever the winner says for a whole day." Eddie shrugged.
"Anything?" You lifted a brow.
"Anything." Eddie nodded.
"Non-sexual too?" Your eyes narrowed towards him.
"Sure. Why not." Eddie shrugged casually, sticking out a ringed hand towards you. "We have a deal?" Your hand in his, the two of you shook on it. A done deal.
Eddie expected you to break by day two. He knew you'd be on your A-Game for the first day, wearing thin on the second. Eddie's eyes would widen with excitement every time your breath would hitch, a snarky comment threatening to roll right off the tip of your tongue, only for a sweet remark to come out instead.
Now, as day four was drawing closer to the end, Eddie had accepted you as the winner. Not that he minded. This was the one bet he could lose and still end feeling like a winner.
"Could just eat it out of the pot." Eddie shrugged, swiping the two plates down from the top shelf. "Less dishes to wash."
"No." You tried to keep your tone light through gritted teeth.
"Just sayin'," Eddie shrugged, pulling the colander out from under the sink, placing it in the sink for you. "I used to do it all the time. We can get two spoons, share it." He grinned at you.
"You don't wanna share a pot with me, hm? Just like we do with popcorn at the movies, but better because it's mac and cheese, and-"
"-That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard." You huffed, throwing your hands up. "That's so messy and disgusting, and you'll end up hogging the whole thing just like you do with the popcorn. We can eat it off plates like normal people do."
The kitchen fell silent, the hiss of the vent the only sound filling the space between you. Your chest settled, days of building agitation replaced with sudden dread. Eddie's eyes wide, gawking at you in disbelief, slowly spreading into a smile.
"You-" Eddie pointed at you. "Holy shit, you lost." He barked out a laugh.
"I did not." You hissed. "You-You pushed me to it!"
"Nuh-uh, don't even try that with me, baby." Eddie shook his head. "You and I both know I was not trying then. That was all you."
Your shoulders slumped in defeat, lip jutting in a furious pout. He was right, and you knew it. You hated it, but you knew it. Eddie had won.
"Fine," You huffed, flicking the stove eye off, moving the pan to the other eye to cool. "You win. Guess we'll be eating out of the pan tonight then?" Your lips curled in a bitter snarl.
Eddie fought back a smirk, lips pressing together smugly. "No, wanna save it for tomorrow. Really get a whole day out of it." He hummed, pulling the drawer above the sink open.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing the pot holder, wrapping it around the hot metal handle to strain the noodles. "Just leave that there." Eddie nodded towards you. "Don't want it to get cold."
"What?" Your brows pinched together in a furrow.
"My victory day doesn't start until tomorrow, but," Eddie pulled the wooden spoon out of the drawer, satisfied with how your eyes widened, your face falling at the sight. "Gotta fix that attitude real quick."
"Eddie," You whined, squirming under his darkened glare.
"Don't even try it, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head at you, taking in a step to close in the space. "You know better than that."
Your cheeks blistered with embarrassed heat, sulking towards the kitchen table, bending over the wood. You pressed your thighs together, a desperate attempt to dull the throbbing between your legs that only intensified as Eddie got closer.
His hand shoving down your little cotton shorts onto the floor, anchoring his free palm onto your spine, before the first hit fell. Your lungs squeezed out a startled gasp of a breath, raising on your toes at the impact. It burned, settled into an achy sting that had you whimpering- still you had to swallow the moan that threatened to follow, lifting your hips back into place, eager for another.
Eddie didn't remark, though he didn't miss the tiny whine that feel from your lips. Instead, he let the spoon rain down in sharp, quick successions all over your cheeks. A steady rhythm of wood snapping against your skin, the table creaking with every squirm.
You knew you'd welt, have round shaped marks that you'd frown at in the mirror tomorrow, running your hand over them and try to ignore the throbbing that'd begin all over again.
For now, Eddie's hands sunk into your hips, a hard hold on them as he used you, rocked your body back and forth, up and down his length. Drilling you over the table, hip bones snapping into the hot skin of your ass as you clawed into the wood of the table.
#oneforthemunny#munnytalks#dom!eddie munson#dom!eddie munson x reader#dom!eddie munson x brat!reader#dom!eddie munson x sub!reader#brat tamer!eddie#brat tamer!eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie x fem!reader#eddie stranger things#eddie my love <3#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#oneforthemunny blurbs#eddie munson blurb#stranger things 4#stranger things
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Your work is absolutely amazing and I was hoping you could do a nsfw scenario for the bayverse boys, their s/o is super needy and desperate to be loved on but the boys are on the phone with someone (anyone of your choosing), they get tired of waiting and pull their mans pant down to blow him. It would be nice to see how long the boys last on the phone call.
Break
I chose Donnie for this one just because as I read this he immediately popped into my head let's also pretend Donnie's desk is behind a door in a secluded lab and not in their actual living room cause otherwise this would be awkward haha
Words: 1769
Warnings: Smut, 18+
It had been two weeks since he had last fucked you.
Two weeks of him either being glued to his desk or being dragged to his bed by one of his brothers whenever they had enough.
He had taken on new responsibilities with the NYPD, mostly in an attempt to ease the collective anxiety most of them had felt ever since their fight with Krang. He had been looking for ways to prepare themselves for a return, if there ever was one. Finally, he found a way. He’d spent never ending days creating devices that could pick up on any ripple that could allude to his reappearance.
They were beautiful, and with each one he created your pride for him swelled more and more. There was another desk chair in his lab he had just for you, which is where you’ve been for nearly every day since he began working on his newest endeavor.
You didn’t mind it. It was nice to watch him work. He always seemed to know what to do and how to complete it. You were sure that there wouldn’t ever be a day when he didn’t impress you.
But you couldn’t deny that you missed him. Most days he would be at his desk, but still being able to leave it for a little while. Then there were times when he would get so swept up in his work that he would fixate on his project until he was completely sure he was happy with it.
That’s what led to him being glued here for days.
That’s what led to the need that’s been left to engulf you.
“You’re quiet today.”
Donnie proved to have a certain talent to be vigilant of what was happening around him even while immersed in his screens. There had been days when you would be telling him stories as his fingers flew across the keys and he would hear every single word.
“Sorry,” you watched as he pulled away from his notes and drawings and flexed his fingers. “Just distracted.”
“Oh?”
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” You knew the answer by the way his eyes guiltily flicked quickly to his work then back to you. He was trying to figure out how much time these machines would take. He had finished ten, and wanted to create more so that there was enough to cover the city.
He hated the way your face fell, hated even more that it was because of him. “I’m sorry, dove. It won’t be long before I finish all of this, then we can do whatever you want. I promise.”
“You don’t want to take a break?”
“I took a break the other day.” He said defensively.
“You mean when Raph forced you to go to bed?”
He feigned offense. “I lost a lot of valuable time, then.” He was trying to make you smile, and the gesture alone brought a small one to your face.
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes staying focused on you.
“Come here,” He placed his elbows on the arm rests of his chair, opening his arms. Part of you wanted to be spiteful, to stay planted in your seat. But that part was much smaller than the temptation of being close to him.
You curled up in his lap the way you had so many times before. His arms felt so familiar to you as they encased you. You laid your chin on his shoulder as his hands moved around your back.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered as his fingers combed through your hair. “I know I can get caught up.”
The guilt you felt washed away the rest of your anger, which flooded out with a sigh against his skin. “It’s ok. I know it isn’t your fault.”
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you up so he could look at you. “How about we watch a movie in here? I could pull it up on one of my monitors.”
You felt yourself fill with warmth at how much he wanted to see you happy. The effort he always made to make sure you didn’t feel neglected.
“That would be nice.” His heart swelled at the sight of you smiling. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one that was supposed to be quick, innocent. Then he did it again. And again. Then his hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.
It was almost embarrassing how much desire rolled through you from something so simple. You knew he could tell as he inhaled deeply through his nose, inviting your scent in eagerly.
His hands slid to your hips as he savored the feeling of your lips on his, basking in the heat of your body. You felt him harden underneath you as his grip tightened.
Slowly, you rolled your hips against his bulge. His whole body stiffened as he took in a sharp breath. He began guiding your hips to move at the speed he wanted, which unfortunately, was slow.
Even then, the friction was making your limbs numb, the only important part of you being the one touching him. His small moans would fold against your lips as he moved you faster. His hand slid up the back of your shirt, moving up your skin until he found the clasps of your bra, and you felt your heart race.
It was then his phone started ringing. And your heart dropped to the floor.
Part of you hoped he would ignore it completely, and you deflated even more when he pulled away to check who was calling. He looked at you apologetically.
“It’s Vincent.” You pressed your forehead to his shoulder in defeat. His sigh had a hint of amusement in it. “Give me just one second. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
You nodded as you climbed off his lap, returning to your seat.
He answered and began speaking, you could tell he was trying to rush. He listened to her concern, then shut his eyes and let out a breath, once again looking guilty.
“She wants to ask about the placements of the devices.” He explained. After a moment, you realized he was asking you if you were alright with him answering her. You felt the sting of annoyance about the timing, but you nodded, waving him on with a flick of your hand.
He reached out and squeezed your knee before turning his eyes to the monitor that had a map of New York, littered with purple dots indicating where he wanted to install his systems. He began listing off street names to her as you watched his lips move.
Your eyes slid down his chest, guided by the strain of his straps, coming to a stop of his hard cock still pressing against his pants. Slowly, you rolled your chair toward him. He spared a brief glance to you before listing off more places on his map. He paused in between each one, making you think she must be writing them down.
Your hands slowly reached for him, your palms flattening on his knees. He looked at you, confused, until he saw the smirk on your face and your body moving to the edge of your chair. He pieced it together quickly after that.
He watched with a look that was a mix of disbelief and challenge as you slid to your knees in front of him. You didn’t look away from his eyes throughout any of your movements. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the look meant, Don’t you dare.
He then seemed to remember he was supposed to be responding, jolting a little. “What’s that?” He cleared his throat to try and mask that his voice had gotten high. “Yes, I’m planning on placing them the same distance from one another.” His hand squeezed his phone while the other was gripping the arm rest. You reached for the hem of his pants, undoing his belt and zipper before he became exposed to you.
You slowly wrapped your hand around him, not yet moving, only applying the pressure. It was enough to have him breathing heavily, taking the lower half of the phone further away from his face to muffle it.
His ability to divide his focus suddenly disappeared as he asked Vincent to repeat her question, giving her an answer you weren’t paying attention to. Your hand began a steady pace, his hips twitching slightly toward you.
There was a new fire lit in his eyes. He watched as you leaned forward to press kisses along the base. You ran your tongue up his shaft, stopping to swirl it around the head.
He bit his fist keeping his noise down as he glared at you. The spark in his eyes never dimmed though, he had been missing this just as much as you have. He missed the feeling of your hands on him. He missed the way your warm mouth felt wrapped around him. He missed being able to watch your eyes tear up as you took him as far back in your throat as you could manage.
You took the head of his cock in your mouth, sucking gently on it before releasing. You kept your eyes on him, knowing that by now you’re on the way to driving him insane.
You took him in again, pushing down further this time, as far as you could go. Your hand stroked the rest of him as your head began bobbing along his length.
His head pressed the back of his chair as he began answering anything with one word sentences or with simple ‘mhm’s.
Heat was traveling through you at the sight, spreading through every vessel in your body. His eyes clenched shut for a moment as he concentrated on staying silent.
Finally, they began saying their goodbyes.
“I’ll be able to finish them up soon,” His eyes full of lust as he looked at you, “I have something I need to deal with first.” His voice flowed against you like water as a new surge of excitement ran through you.
You released him with a pop as he hung the phone up, still stroking him with a small grin on your face. He dropped his phone on his desk and ran his fingers through your hair.
“That needy, huh? Do you need it that badly?” His hand moved to cup your chin. You began to stand, but he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Finish me off, then I’ll give you what you want.”
#tmnt 2016#tmnt 2014#bayversetmnt#tmnt x reader#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donnie 2014#tmnt donnie 2016
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Secrets
Summary: You try to keep your relationship a secret!
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
It was fun at first.
The thrill of sneaking around, secret glances, hidden touches. It had been quite a ride to get to where you were with Natasha, and knowing how the team could be, you both wanted to keep your relationship to yourselves, at least for a little while.
One of your secret spots were the stairs. With a building so big, it was natural that everyone took the elevator. It was the perfect place to meet the redhead and more often than not, the conversation progressed into an intense make out session that left you breathless.
“Is the elevator broken?” Steve asks as you come back from one of your little escapades. You jump at his presence, your mind still thinking about the feeling of Natasha’s lips on yours.
“Uh… no. It’s working just fine. I like to take the stairs to… exercise”
“That’s a nice idea. Maybe I’ll try it one of these days” he nods.
Cap and his obliviousness, sweet old man. He has no idea you’re all flushed for reasons that have nothing to do with coming up the steps.
Still, you think nothing of it. He was probably trying to be nice when he said it was a good idea. The next day, when you’re lost in Natasha, intoxicated by her supple lips and the way they move against your own, you miss the sound of heavy footsteps and an off key whistle.
“Crap” Natasha is the first to react, breaking apart. You turn to look down, Steve taking the steps two at a time.
Fit bastard.
“Morning!” he says, too happy for your liking.
“Oh, hi, we were just…”
“We?” he echoes, and you look around. No trace of Natasha.
“I mean, me. I was just taking a break. I think I’ll go back to taking the elevator”
“You sure you’re ok?”
“Yeah, just a bit agitated. Nothing to worry, Cap”
Steve nods and smiles.
“I told everyone about your great idea. I think people will start using the stairs more”
“Oh, that’s just peachy”
Once again, he is oblivious to your actual feelings. After he’s gone, Natasha jumps from behind the staircase.
“Jesus, how did you manage to do that so quickly”
“Well, you always have to be ready for a quick escape, detka”
Natasha leans forward and pecks your lips, but before she can do anything else, you drag her back to the hallway.
“You heard Cap. Our secret spot is no longer secret”
—
So far, you haven’t found a decent replacement for the stairs, except for a supply closet. And by God, you are not that desperate.
As you cook dinner, Natasha comes up behind you, and you relax against her.
“I’ve missed you” she says against your shoulder, placing small kisses that tickle you.
“I missed you too, love”
A hand goes around your middle and she toys with the hem of your shirt, lips kissing your neck, and that sweet spot behind your earlobe that makes you shiver.
“Nat” you moan, and you don’t know if you want her to stop or keep going.
Yelena answers that for you as she steps inside, eyes widening. You draw blank, because honestly, how can you explain this?
Natasha takes matters into her own hands, literally, as she hugs you and pretends to do the Heimlich maneuver.
“She’s choking” Natasha says and Yelena scrambles around.
“Oh, my God, Y/N, please don’t die”
The redhead pretends to help you, squeezing your middle and you cough.
“I think I’m…”
Unfortunately, the blonde is too freaked out and pushes Natasha away, thinking she’s helping you.
As she presses against your sternum, you are suddenly out of breath and you swear you can feel your ribs cracking.
“Ok, I’m fine, Yelena, thanks” you break free of her hold, sure that your sides will be bruised next morning.
Yelena doesn’t let you cook anymore, so you end up with a dinner of mac and cheese, and Natasha’s sister sitting in the middle while you three watch tv.
“I’m sorry” Natasha says when her sister gets up to grab another soda.
“Just for the record, this isn’t the type of choking I had in mind”
—
“They’re gonna be here any minute” you say against Natasha’s shoulder.
“I know” she bites your neck and you sink further into her lap.
The Quinjet, out of all places is where you find some privacy. The rest of the team will join shortly, as you have a recon mission.
But you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you end up naked, straddling Natasha’s lap as she moves her fingers inside of you.
“God, you look so pretty like this” she says against your chest.
“Nat, more” you plead. It’s too much and too little at the same time. She listens, moving her hand faster and your hips match her pace.
“God. Yes” you collapse in her arms.
“Request to open gate” FRIDAY informs and you curse, because you want more than a second to catch your breath.
Sneaking around is getting old now.
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up” Natasha says, helping you up. She looks proud when your legs shake.
“Shut up” you say, which only makes her smile wider.
While the team enters the Quinjet, you go back to the bathroom with Nat as you hurriedly put your suits on.
“Red? Y/N?” Tony calls for you.
“Here” you raise your arm, feeling a bit tense. Maybe you pulled a muscle.
Stark nods your way and starts the Quinjet, while Steve goes over the plan with everyone else. You stay seated, vaguely aware that something feels different but you can’t tell what it is.
“Be careful” Natasha says when you part ways, squeezing your hand.
Your job is to keep an eye on the guards at the south gate and stop them if they are called to attack the intel team.
Which unfortunately does happen, so you run to shoot, kick and punch at every one of them.
There are two guards left, and as you reach for your gun, something incredibly unexpected happens.
Your suit opens right in the front, revealing your red lacy bra.
“What the fuck” you shout, looking down.
The guard in front of you opens his mouth, completely enthranced by your cleavage.
“New strategy?” Tony flies over, knocking him down. He sends the last man standing across the room.
“No! I don’t know what happened!”
You try to cover but the leather is not giving in.
“Ok, well. We’re done here so you can put all that” he gestures to your chest. “Back in the Quinjet”
Rolling your eyes, and with your arms crossed in front of you, you walk back to the jet.
As you lock eyes with Natasha, you finally notice how her own suit is loose on the shoulders.
You switched when you were getting dressed.
“I like this new look” Sam wiggles his eyebrows and Natasha sends a widow bite straight to his ass.
“Oops” she shrugs her shoulders as he glares.
Feeling a little better after that, you go inside and find a t-shirt to cover up.
When you leave the bathroom, everyone is silent.
“Ok, it’s not like you all haven’t seen boobs before. So get over yourselves. Except Steve, he gets a pass” you bark at them.
“I’ve seen boobs before” he tries to say but no one pays attention.
Natasha stays silent and you think she might be upset or reconsidering this whole thing.
You expect the worse as you land and she leads you back to your room.
“Nat…”
The redhead holds her finger up, taking your shirt off and sinking her face in your breasts.
“Really?”
“Mine” she grumbles, her hands squeezing possessively.
Well, at least some good came out of it.
—
The atmosphere is tense.
Clint, Wanda, Peter and you are playing Jenga.
Honestly, you are the one at a disadvantage here. With Clint’s aim and the enhanced individuals, you don’t stand a chance.
The way Natasha looks at you from across the room doesn’t help either.
It’s been a few days since you were together. Fury called her for an urgent mission and you had to resist the urge to sneak into the Quinjet and beg her to fuck you against the console.
And now, she’s back and you can’t wait for the night to wrap up so you can wrap your legs around her while she eats your…
“Gah!” Wanda screeches, knocking over the tower. “My mind, my eyes”
Crap.
“Wanda, a word?” you plead, dragging her out of the living room while Clint and Peter stare.
“You” she slaps your arm. “And you” she glares at Natasha as she approaches, pushing you both to her room.
“Sorry, we are keeping it a secret for now”
“But your thoughts are so loud” she massages her temples, clearly distraught. “I was so focused on the game and still I could hear everything, see everything”
“Sorry” you grimace. “Do you think you could… not tell anyone? For a bit”
“Oh, trust me, I’m very eager to pretend none of this happened”
“Thanks, Wanda” Natasha says and the girl nods.
“It’s nice to see you both happy. Just try to keep your thoughts to yourselves”
“We’ll try”
Wanda nods, walking out. Natasha’s quick to push you against the wall, eyes darkened by lust.
“Wanna tell me what was on your mind?”
“Can you at least wait for me to leave the hallway?!” Wanda screams from outside.
“You have ten seconds, Maximoff”
“Thanks, I hate you”
—
You figure a little distance from everyone will do you good.
So, you get tickets to a Yankees game and spend the day in the city with Natasha.
Even if you are only a half hour away from the Compound, among the sea of people, no one looks at you when you hold her hand, or share a kiss in the middle of your walk.
“This is nice” you smile, bringing her hand to your lips.
The first half of the game is slow, but you enjoy the time eating popcorn and making comments with Natasha about the score.
During the break, several people in the audience are featured in the screens. A girl chugs an entire beer while the crowd goes wild.
“Damn” you laugh, but the next image you see is you, next to Natasha.
The kiss cam.
“No, we’re fine” you wave your arms and the crowd boos. “Ok, not nice!”
“Don’t be such a baby” she smiles, pulling you closer.
“Pretty sure Steve and Bucky are watching the game back home”
“You jump, I jump” she leans forward, allowing you to decide if you wanna do this or not. As your lips meet in a short kiss, everyone starts clapping and cheering you on.
“Are you sure about what we just did?”
“Very. I’m tired of hiding. You make me happy. What’s wrong with that?” Natasha says and you smile against her lips.
“You are so getting lucky tonight”
But before you can kiss her again, both of your phones go crazy with texts from everyone on the team.
Tony: Is this why Wanda asked me for a way to erase her memory?
Sam: Now I know why you electrocuted my ass, Red!
Wanda: DONT COME NEAR ME
“Still think we made the right call?” you roll your eyes as the texts keep coming.
“Absolutely, detka” she says before kissing you softly.
Yeah. It’s gonna be ok.
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⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader
part i here.
summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)
tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.
note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡
word count. 6.3k
The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.
You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.
“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”
You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”
Pot. Kettle. Whatever.
“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”
You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.
You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”
She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”
And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.
“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.
You have, of course, trained for this.
It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.
Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.
His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.
“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.
You deserve applause for this.
“Tired?”
“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”
His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.
“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.
“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”
“...Hm.”
That’s it. That’s all you get from him.
And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.
“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”
He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.
You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.
Well. Perhaps not, then.
You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.
And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.
You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.
“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”
“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”
“You are such a —”
You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.
“Just — go then, before I hex you.”
“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”
“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”
You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.
“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.
You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.
Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.
It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.
“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”
You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.
You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.
What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?
You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.
Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.
You manage a simple, “And yet.”
“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.
You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.
“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.
“I think so. Why?”
“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”
Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.
It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.
“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”
Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.
“Pity.”
Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.
You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —
"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"
“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”
God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.
There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.
“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s hardly charity.”
“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”
You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.
“You look lovely.”
It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”
And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.
He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.
His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”
What?
You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —
“Unbelievable…”
He quirks a brow. “What was that?”
“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”
“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”
He — that was —
“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”
“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”
You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.
Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”
You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.
“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”
Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.
“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”
“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”
“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”
No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.
But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”
Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.
“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”
You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.
“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.
You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.
Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”
You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.
Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.
If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.
And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.
And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.
And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.
He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.
His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.
You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.
You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.
“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.
The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.
This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.
“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."
You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?
You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.
You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.
It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.
His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.
He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.
You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.
This is not like that.
You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.
You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.
His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.
How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?
And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.
You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.
His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.
“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.
At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.
Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."
And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.
“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"
Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.
His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.
And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.
Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.
You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”
That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”
His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.
But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.
You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.
“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”
Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)
He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.
More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.
It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.
“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.
As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.
His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.
Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.
He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.
His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.
But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.
You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.
And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.
When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.
A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.
When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.
Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.
Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.
You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.
But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.
There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.
Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”
Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.
And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.
It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.
Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.
His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.
“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.
You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.
It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.
You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.
“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”
Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.
He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.
And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.
The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.
You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.
But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.
You did say he was yours.
#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle smut#tom riddle x y/n#tom marvolo riddle#voldemort#voldemort x reader#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle oneshot#NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it#harry potter fanfiction#wizarding world
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