#i did not anticipate this but it made me smile <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[hopeflower]

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bun, you're such a sweet bean <3 i adore you!

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[pucksandpower]

Black Widow

Toto Wolff x black widow!Reader

Summary: Lewis Hamilton and George Russell are convinced you’re trying to kill their team principal, and, to be fair, you do have a trail of seven dead extremely wealthy husbands behind you … but it’s not what they think, you promise

The soft beep of medical equipment provides a rhythmic backdrop as you sit beside the ornate mahogany bed, your manicured fingers intertwined with those of your latest husband, Reginald Worthington III.

At 89 years old, Reggie, as you affectionately call him, is by far your oldest conquest yet. His wrinkled face, now gaunt from months of illness, still manages a weak smile as he gazes at you.

“My darling,” Reggie wheezes, his voice barely above a whisper, “I hope you know how much joy you’ve brought to these final months of mine.”

You lean in, your silky hair cascading over your shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Oh, Reggie. The pleasure has been all mine.”

It’s not entirely a lie. While you don’t love Reggie — or any of your previous husbands, for that matter — you’ve grown fond of the old codger. He’s certainly been the most amusing of your elderly spouses.

Reggie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, a ghost of the rakish playboy he must have been in his youth. “Now, now, my dear. We both know this has been a mutually beneficial arrangement. But I do hope I’ve provided some entertainment along the way.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a delight, darling. Truly.”

As if on cue, Reggie is seized by a coughing fit. You quickly grab a glass of water from the bedside table, helping him take small sips until the spasms subside. When he catches his breath, he fixes you with a serious look.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. About the will.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your face carefully neutral. “Reggie, please. We don’t need to discuss such morbid topics.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. We both know why you’re here, and it’s not to admire the wallpaper. Now listen, because this is important.”

You lean in closer, curiosity piqued despite yourself.

Reggie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “In addition to the usual — the houses, the cars, the offshore accounts — I’m leaving you my stake in the Mercedes Formula 1 team.”

Your eyes widen in genuine surprise. “The racing team? Reggie, I had no idea you were involved with-”

He cuts you off with a wheezy laugh. “Oh, my dear. There’s so much you don’t know about me. Did you think I made my fortune selling denture cream?”

You can’t help but smile. “Well, I did wonder about all those trophies in your study.”

“Remnants of a misspent youth,” Reggie says with a wistful sigh. “But this, this is my crowning achievement. A 33% stake in one of the most successful F1 teams in history.”

Your mind reels at the implications. This is far beyond anything you’d anticipated when you’d set your sights on Reginald Worthington III.

“Reggie, I ... I don’t know what to say.”

He pats your hand affectionately. “You don’t have to say anything, my dear. Just promise me you’ll make the most of it. I’ve always admired your ambition. It reminds me of myself at your age.”

You lean back in your chair, studying the old man before you. In that moment, you feel a surge of genuine affection for him.

“I promise, Reggie. I’ll make you proud.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, tell me about the others. I want to know how I measure up to my predecessors.”

You laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Are you sure? It’s quite a list.”

Reggie’s eyes sparkle with interest. “My dear, I’m on my deathbed. Regale me with tales of your conquests.”

With a theatrical sigh, you begin. “Well, if you insist. Let’s see ... first, there was Harold.”

“Ah, the virgin husband,” Reggie interrupts with a knowing nod.

You raise an eyebrow. “And how did you know that?”

He winks. “I have my sources. Go on.”

“Right. Well, Harold was a sweet man. A bit naive, perhaps, but genuinely kind. He left me his tech startup. It wasn’t worth much at the time, but I sold it for a tidy sum a year later.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “Smart move. Who was next?”

“After Harold came George. He was ... intense. A retired army general with a penchant for war stories and expensive scotch. Left me his collection of rare military memorabilia.”

“Fascinating,” Reggie murmurs. “And the others?”

You tick them off on your fingers. “Let’s see ... there was Joaquin, the passionate Spanish chef. He left me his Michelin-starred restaurants. Then came Dmitri, the Russian oligarch. That was ... an experience.”

Reggie chuckles. “I bet it was. What did he leave you?”

“A series of shell companies and a rather gaudy yacht. I sold the yacht, kept the companies.” You pause, lost in thought for a moment. “After Dmitri was William, the British lord. Lovely man, terrible teeth. Left me his crumbling estate and title.”

“So you’re technically a lady now?” Reggie asks, amused.

You nod. “Lady Y/N, at your service. Though I don’t use the title much. It tends to raise questions.”

“Understandable. And the last one before me?”

Your expression softens slightly. “Ah, that was Hiroshi. Japanese tech mogul. Brilliant mind, but so lonely. I think I was the first real companionship he’d had in years.”

Reggie studies you carefully. “You were fond of him.”

You nod, a bit surprised by the lump in your throat. “I was. He ... he understood me, I think. More than the others.”

There’s a moment of silence as Reggie processes this information. Finally, he speaks. “And what did Hiroshi leave you?”

You smile wryly. “His AI research company. It’s been ... interesting, to say the least.”

Reggie nods slowly. “Quite a collection you’ve amassed, my dear. But tell me, what drives you? Surely it’s not just the money.”

You’re taken aback by the question. No one has ever asked you that before. You take a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I suppose ... it’s the challenge of it all. The thrill of reinventing myself with each new husband, of navigating these complex worlds they inhabit. And yes, the wealth is nice, but it’s more about what I can do with it.”

Reggie leans forward, intrigued. “And what is it you want to do?”

You pause, realizing you’ve never really articulated this to anyone before. “I want to make a difference. Real, lasting change. These men, they’ve all built empires in their own ways, but they’ve been limited by their own mortality. I don’t have those limitations yet. I can take what they’ve given me and create something ... more.”

Reggie’s eyes light up with understanding. “Ah, now I see why I was drawn to you. You’re not just a pretty face or a clever mind. You’re a visionary.”

You feel a flush of pride at his words. “I try to be. Each husband has taught me something new, given me tools I never had before. Harold showed me the potential of technology. George taught me strategy. Joaquin, the importance of passion in one’s work. Dmitri, how to navigate the murky waters of international business. William gave me a glimpse into old-world power structures. And Hiroshi ... well, he opened my eyes to the future.”

Reggie nods slowly. “And what have I taught you, I wonder?”

You smile softly. “Patience, Reggie. The long game. And the value of a good sense of humor in the face of adversity.”

He chuckles weakly. “Well, I’m glad I could contribute something to your education. Now, about this F1 team ...”

You lean in, eager to hear more. “Yes?”

“It’s more than just a racing team, you know. It’s a pinnacle of engineering, a testament to human ingenuity and the constant push for improvement. I think you’ll find it fits quite well with your ambitions.”

You nod slowly, mind already racing with possibilities. “I can see that. The technology, the global platform, the prestige ...”

Reggie grins. “Exactly. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find husband number eight in the paddock.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, Reggie. Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?”

He winks. “Someone has to. Now, promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” you say, and you’re surprised to find you mean it.

“When you’re accepting that championship trophy — because I know you will — wear something fabulous. Give those stuffy old men in the paddock something to talk about.”

You can’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I intend to shake things up a bit.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “That’s my girl. Now, I think I need to rest for a bit. But don’t go far. I want to hear all about your plans for world domination when I wake up.”

As you watch Reggie drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Sadness at the impending loss of this charming old rogue, excitement at the unexpected opportunity he’s given you, and a renewed sense of purpose.

You glance at your reflection in the ornate mirror across the room. Lady Y/N Y/L/N, soon-to-be racing magnate. It has a nice ring to it.

As you settle back into your chair, you begin to plan your next moves. The motorsport world won’t know what hit it.

***

The sleek boardroom of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzes with hushed conversation. Around the polished mahogany table, team executives and board members huddle in small groups, their voices low and urgent.

Toto catches snippets of conversation as he reviews his notes for the meeting.

“Did you hear? She’s actually coming today,” whispers Bradley, the team’s financial officer.

Sarah, head of marketing, leans in. “I can’t believe Reginald left her his stake. What was he thinking?”

“Probably wasn’t thinking with his head, if you know what I mean,” chuckles Thomas, the technical director.

Toto clears his throat, silencing the gossip. “Let’s keep things professional, shall we? We have important matters to discuss today.”

As if on cue, the boardroom door swings open. The room falls into an immediate, almost eerie silence as you stride in, turning heads with every click of your Manolo Blahnik heels against the polished floor.

Toto finds himself holding his breath, caught off guard by your presence. He’s seen photos, of course, but they didn’t do you justice. Your tailored Armani suit exudes power and confidence, while your eyes scan the room with a shrewd intelligence that sends a shiver down his spine.

You take your seat at the far end of the table, directly opposite Toto. “Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not late.”

Your voice, smooth as silk with a hint of amusement, breaks the spell. The room erupts into a flurry of awkward greetings and nervous coughs.

Toto clears his throat again, trying to regain control of the situation. “Not at all. We were just about to begin. Welcome, Lady Worthington. We’re honored to have you join us today.”

You smile, a dazzling display that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Please, call me Y/N. We’re all colleagues here, after all.”

Toto nods, fighting to keep his composure. “Of course, Y/N. Shall we begin with the agenda?”

As the meeting progresses, Toto finds himself increasingly distracted. He’s used to being the most commanding presence in any room, but your arrival has shifted the dynamic entirely. Every time you speak, offering insights or asking pointed questions, the rest of the board seems to hold its breath.

“I’ve been reviewing our sustainability initiatives,” you say during a lull in the conversation. “While I applaud our efforts so far, I believe we could be doing more. Formula 1 has an unique platform to drive innovation in green technologies. We should be leading the charge, not just following along.”

Bradley shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “With all due respect, Lady- I mean, Y/N, implementing new sustainability measures could be quite costly. We need to consider the bottom line.”

You lean forward, fixing Bradley with an intense gaze. “And what about the cost of falling behind? Of being seen as out of touch with the concerns of younger fans? Sometimes, you have to spend money to make money.”

Toto finds himself nodding in agreement before he even realizes it. “Y/N raises an excellent point. Perhaps we should form a task force to explore more aggressive sustainability options.”

You flash him a grateful smile, and Toto feels his heart skip a beat. He quickly looks down at his notes, trying to regain his composure.

As the meeting continues, you consistently challenge the status quo, pushing for bolder strategies and innovative approaches. Toto watches in fascination as you deftly navigate the complex dynamics of the board, alternating between charm and steel as the situation demands.

During a discussion about driver development, you interject again. “I’ve been looking into our junior driver program, and I think we’re missing opportunities. We’re too focused on traditional racing backgrounds. What about sim racers? Or scouting karters from developing countries? We could be tapping into a whole new pool of talent.”

Sarah, the marketing head, perks up at this. “That’s ... actually a brilliant idea. It could really broaden our appeal, especially in emerging markets.”

You nod appreciatively. “Exactly. And imagine the stories we could tell. The sim racer who became an F1 champion or the kid from a small village who rose to the top of motorsport. That’s the kind of narrative that builds brand loyalty and inspires the next generation of fans.”

Toto finds himself leaning forward, completely engrossed. “I love this direction. Y/N, would you be willing to work with Sarah to develop a proposal for expanding our driver search?”

“Of course,” you reply with a smile that makes Toto’s pulse quicken. “I’d be delighted.”

As the meeting winds down, Toto realizes that the entire dynamic of the board has shifted. The initial wariness towards you has given way to a mixture of respect and curiosity. Even those who seemed most skeptical at the start are now hanging on your every word.

“Well,” Toto says, glancing at his watch, “I think that concludes our agenda for today. Unless anyone has any other matters to discuss?”

The room is silent for a moment before you speak up. “Actually, if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room.”

A tense hush falls over the gathering. Toto holds his breath, unsure of what’s coming next.

You stand, your posture relaxed but commanding. “I’m aware of the rumors and speculation surrounding my ... personal life. I want to assure all of you that my presence here is purely professional. I’m not here to cause drama or upheaval. I’m here because I believe in the potential of this team and this sport. I hope that over time, you’ll come to judge me based on my contributions, not on gossip or hearsay.”

The sincerity in your voice is palpable, and Toto can see the effect it has on the room. Shoulders relax, expressions soften. There’s a collective exhale, as if a weight has been lifted.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Toto says, standing as well. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we look forward to working with you and seeing what fresh perspectives you can bring to the team.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table. As the meeting officially adjourns, people begin to gather their things and file out of the room. Toto notices that several board members linger, clearly hoping to have a word with you. He feels an unexpected twinge of jealousy.

Before he can second-guess himself, Toto makes his way around the table to where you’re chatting with Sarah about the junior driver program idea.

“Excuse me,” he says, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word?”

You turn to him with a smile that makes his heart race. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

He takes a deep breath, acutely aware of the curious glances from the remaining board members. “I was impressed by your insights today. I think there’s a lot we could discuss further about the future direction of the team. Would you perhaps be interested in continuing this conversation over dinner?”

A hush falls over the remaining occupants of the room. Toto can practically feel the weight of their stares, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

You raise an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement playing across your features. “Dinner? My, my, Toto. Aren’t you afraid of me? I do have quite the reputation, you know.”

There’s a challenge in your voice, but also a hint of vulnerability that catches Toto off guard. He realizes that beneath your confident exterior, you’re testing him, gauging his true intentions.

Toto meets your gaze steadily, his voice low but firm. “I don’t put much stock in rumors. I prefer to form my own opinions based on what I see and experience. And what I’ve seen today is a brilliant, passionate individual who could be a tremendous asset to this team. That’s the person I’m interested in getting to know better.”

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for your response. You study Toto for a long moment, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spreads across your face.

“Well, in that case, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you. Shall we say eight o’clock?”

Toto feels a rush of relief and excitement. “Eight o’clock sounds perfect. I know just the place.”

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Toto can’t help but feel like he’s standing on the precipice of something monumental. He’s built his career on calculated risks, on seeing potential where others see danger. Looking at you, he knows that this might be the biggest gamble of his life.

But as you turn to give him one last smile before exiting the boardroom, Toto is certain of one thing: it’s a risk he’s more than willing to take.

***

The Monaco Grand Prix paddock buzzes with excitement, a hive of activity as teams prepare for the most glamorous race on the Formula 1 calendar. Lewis Hamilton and George Russell huddle in a quiet corner of the Mercedes garage, their voices low and urgent.

“I’m telling you, mate, something’s not right,” George insists, his eyes darting around to ensure they’re not overheard. “Have you seen the way Toto’s been acting lately? It’s like he’s under some kind of spell.”

Lewis nods grimly, his usual pre-race focus replaced by concern. “I know what you mean. Ever since she came into the picture, it’s like he’s a different person. Always distracted, making decisions that don’t quite add up.”

“Exactly!” George exclaims, then quickly lowers his voice again. “And have you noticed how she’s always around now? At every meeting, every strategy session. It’s like she’s trying to learn all our secrets.”

Lewis furrows his brow, deep in thought. “You don’t think ... I mean, surely she wouldn’t actually try to ...”

“Kill him?” George finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know, mate. But look at her track record. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marrying her. And now she’s got her claws into Toto.”

As if summoned by their conversation, you appear at the entrance of the garage, Toto at your side. The team principal’s hand rests comfortably on the small of your back as he leads you through the bustling workspace.

Lewis and George fall silent, watching intently as you make your way towards them. Your designer sundress and oversized sunglasses scream understated elegance, but to the two drivers, you might as well be wearing a black widow’s web.

“Good morning,” Toto calls out cheerfully. “Ready for qualifying?”

Lewis forces a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “Morning, Toto. Yeah, we were just discussing strategy.”

You step forward, flashing a dazzling smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I’m still learning all the intricacies of race weekends.”

George clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not at all. We were just finishing up.”

Toto beams, looking from you to his drivers with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful having Y/N here? She’s already brought so many fresh ideas to the team. I don’t know how we managed without her.”

You laugh, a sound that sends chills down Lewis and George’s spines. “Oh, darling, you’re exaggerating. I’m sure these boys were doing just fine before I came along.”

As you speak, your hand reaches up to smooth Toto’s collar, a gesture that seems innocent enough but makes both drivers tense.

Lewis clears his throat. “Actually, Toto, could we have a quick word? About the, uh, tire strategy?”

Toto looks surprised but nods. “Of course. Y/N, would you mind giving us a moment?”

“Not at all,” you reply smoothly. “I’ll just go chat with the mechanics. I’m fascinated by all this technology.”

As you saunter away, Lewis and George exchange a meaningful glance. This is their chance.

“Toto,” Lewis begins, choosing his words carefully. “We’re a bit concerned. About you, actually.”

Toto’s brow furrows in confusion. “Concerned? What do you mean?”

George jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just that ... well, things have been different since you started seeing her. And given her history ...”

“Her history?” Toto repeats, his voice taking on an edge. “What exactly are you implying?”

Lewis takes a deep breath. “Toto, we care about you. And we can’t help but notice that Y/N’s previous partners have all met with ... unfortunate ends.”

For a moment, Toto just stares at them, his expression unreadable. Then, to their surprise, he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, boys,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern, truly. But I assure you, it’s misplaced. Y/N has been nothing but a positive influence on both me and the team.”

George persists, his voice urgent. “But Toto, you have to admit, the pattern is alarming. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marriage. And now she’s here, learning all about our team, our strategies ...”

Toto’s amusement fades, replaced by a stern look. “That’s enough. I understand you’re worried, but I won’t have you spreading baseless rumors. Y/N is here because she’s a part-owner of this team and because I invited her. End of discussion.”

As Toto walks away, Lewis and George share a look of dismay.

“He’s in too deep,” Lewis mutters. “We need to do something.”

George nods grimly. “We can’t let her hurt him. Or the team. We need a plan.”

Throughout the day, as qualifying unfolds, Lewis and George find themselves constantly distracted. Every time they catch a glimpse of you in the garage or on the pit wall, their imaginations run wild.

During a brief break between sessions, they overhear a snippet of conversation between you and one of the engineers.

“So, if something were to go wrong with the car during the race,” you’re saying, “what would be the most catastrophic point of failure?”

The engineer launches into a detailed explanation of various mechanical vulnerabilities, unaware of the horrified looks on the drivers’ faces.

“She’s gathering intel,” George whispers to Lewis. “Probably planning some sort of accident for Toto.”

Lewis nods, his jaw set with determination. “We need to warn him again. Make him see reason.”

But their attempts to get Toto alone prove futile. You seem to be constantly by his side, your hand on his arm, whispering in his ear. To an outsider, it might look like the actions of a loving girlfriend, but to Lewis and George, every gesture seems calculated and sinister.

As the day wears on, their paranoia grows. They start seeing threats everywhere. When you hand Toto a bottle of water, they’re convinced it’s poisoned. When you suggest he take a look at something in the back of the garage, they’re sure you’re luring him away to do him harm.

Finally, as the sun begins to set over the Monaco harbor, they decide they can’t wait any longer. They need to confront you directly.

They find you alone in the hospitality area, reviewing some papers. As they approach, you look up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Lewis, George,” you greet them warmly. “Excellent qualifying today. You must be pleased.”

Lewis takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Cut the act. We know what you’re up to.”

Your expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in your eyes. “I’m not sure I understand. What exactly am I up to?”

George steps forward, his voice low and intense. “We know about your husbands. All seven of them. And we’re not going to let you add Toto to that list.”

For a moment, you just stare at them, your face unreadable. Then, to their surprise, you burst out laughing.

“Oh,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “Is that what this is all about? You think I’m here to kill Toto?”

Lewis and George exchange confused glances, thrown off by your reaction.

You lean in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me tell you a little secret. Those men? They were all terminally ill when I married them. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple. They got to spend their last months with a young, beautiful wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play involved.”

The drivers stare at you, speechless. You continue, your tone becoming more serious.

“As for Toto, well, that’s different. For the first time in my life, I’ve found someone I genuinely care for. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just what I can offer. I’m not here to hurt him or the team. I’m here because I want to be part of something meaningful.”

Lewis and George exchange uncertain glances, their convictions shaken.

“But ... all the questions about the car, the team strategies ...” George begins.

You roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “I’m a part-owner of this team now, remember? Of course I’m trying to learn everything I can. How else can I contribute?”

As the truth of your words sinks in, Lewis and George begin to feel a creeping sense of embarrassment. They’ve let their imaginations and preconceptions run wild, seeing threats where there were none.

“I ... we ...” Lewis stammers, struggling to find the right words.

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “It’s alright. I understand. My reputation precedes me, and you were just looking out for Toto. I can respect that.”

George rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “We may have gotten a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”

You smile, and this time it reaches your eyes. “Apology accepted. Now, what do you say we put this behind us and focus on winning tomorrow’s race?”

As if on cue, Toto appears, looking between the three of you with curiosity. “Everything alright here?”

You stand, moving to his side and slipping your arm through his. “Everything’s perfect, darling. In fact, I think Lewis and George were just about to share some ideas they had for the race strategy. Weren’t you, boys?”

Lewis and George nod, grateful for the out you’ve given them. As they launch into a discussion about tire management and overtaking opportunities, they can’t help but marvel at how wrong they’ve been.

Watching you interact with Toto, they see not a black widow spinning her web, but a woman genuinely in love, bringing out the best in their team principal. They realize that sometimes, people can surprise you. And sometimes, the most unexpected additions to a team can be the most valuable.

***

The soft glow of chandeliers bathes the exclusive Monégasque restaurant in warm light, casting elegant shadows across the faces of Monaco’s elite. Grigori Volkov, a grizzled veteran of the Russian underworld, sips his vodka, his weathered face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveys the room.

His eyes narrow as they land on a familiar figure across the crowded dining area. It can’t be, he thinks, leaning forward for a better look. But there’s no mistaking that face, those eyes that have haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.

You.

Grigori watches as you laugh, your hand resting lightly on the arm of a tall, distinguished-looking man. He recognizes him vaguely. But what catches Grigori off guard is the easy intimacy between you, the matching wedding bands glinting in the low light.

For a moment, Grigori considers slipping out unnoticed. But curiosity gets the better of him. He signals the waiter, ordering another round of drinks to be sent to your table.

As the waiter approaches with the drinks, Grigori sees your posture stiffen slightly, your eyes scanning the room until they lock onto his. He raises his glass in a small salute, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You lean in, whispering something to Toto. The man looks surprised but nods, and together you make your way towards Grigori’s table.

“Grigori,” you greet him, your voice a mix of warmth and wariness. “It’s been a long time.”

Grigori stands, bowing slightly. “Indeed it has, my dear. You’re looking well. And who might this be?”

Toto extends his hand, his grip firm. “Toto Wolff. And you are?”

“An old friend of your wife’s,” Grigori replies smoothly, noting the flicker of surprise in Toto’s eyes at the word ’wife’. “Grigori Volkov. I knew Y/N back in her Russian days.”

You gesture to the empty chairs. “May we join you?”

Grigori nods, waving expansively. “Please, be my guests.”

As you settle in, Grigori can’t help but study Toto more closely. He’s younger than expected, vital and alert. Not at all what he’d imagined for your latest conquest.

“So, Toto,” Grigori begins, his accent thick with amusement, “how long have you and our dear Y/N been married?”

Toto smiles, his hand finding yours on the table. “Just over two years now. Best decision I ever made.”

Grigori’s eyebrows shoot up. “Two years? My, my. That’s quite impressive.”

You shoot him a warning look, but Toto just looks confused. “I’m not sure I follow. Why is that impressive?”

Grigori chuckles, taking a long sip of his vodka. “Oh, forgive me. I just meant that Y/N here has always been something of a ... how do you say ... free spirit? Never one to be tied down for long.”

You interject quickly, “People change, Grigori. I’ve found what I was looking for.”

Grigori nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Indeed they do. And what of your ... other interests? The ones you inherited from dear Dmitri?”

Toto’s brow furrows. “Dmitri? I’m afraid I don’t know much about Y/N’s ex-husbands.”

“Ex-husbands?” Grigori repeats, feigning surprise. “Oh, but Dmitri was special, wasn’t he? After all, not every day one inherits a slice of the Bratva.”

The color drains from Toto’s face as he turns to you. “The Bratva? As in, the Russian mob?”

You sigh, shooting Grigori a glare that could freeze vodka. “It’s complicated, darling. And very much in the past.”

Grigori leans back, thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. “Oh, come now, Y/N. Surely your husband deserves to know the truth? About your colorful past, your string of deceased husbands, your unexpected rise to power in certain ... shall we say, unofficial circles?”

Toto looks between you and Grigori, his expression a mix of confusion and growing concern. “Y/N, what is he talking about?”

You take a deep breath, squeezing Toto’s hand. “Toto, there are parts of my past I haven’t told you about. Not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I wanted to leave that life behind.”

Grigori interjects, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “Oh, but my dear, can one ever truly leave such a life behind? Especially when one has risen to such ... prominent positions?”

Toto’s eyes narrow as he looks at Grigori. “And what exactly is your role in all this?”

Grigori smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Let’s just say I’m an old associate of Dmitri’s. And by extension, of Y/N’s. Though I must admit, I’m surprised to see you still among the living, Mr. Wolff. Our dear Y/N has quite a reputation, you know.”

You slam your hand on the table, your voice low and dangerous. “Enough, Grigori. That’s not who I am anymore.”

Grigori holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course, of course. I meant no offense. I’m merely ... surprised. After all, your previous husbands weren’t quite so fortunate. Or so young and vigorous.”

Toto’s jaw clenches, his eyes darting between you and Grigori. “I think it’s time we left.”

As you stand to leave, Grigori calls out, “Oh, but we’ve only just begun to catch up. There’s so much your husband doesn’t know, Y/N. About the power you wield, the empire you inherited. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth about the woman he married?”

You turn back, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something deeper, more dangerous. “The truth, Grigori, is that I left that life behind. I found something real, something worth living for. And if you or anyone else tries to drag me back into that world, you’ll regret it.”

Grigori leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is that a threat, my dear?”

You smile, cold and sharp. “Consider it a friendly warning. From one old friend to another.”

As you and Toto walk away, Grigori can’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. He’d forgotten, in the years since you’d left Russia, just how formidable you could be.

He watches as you and Toto have an intense, whispered conversation by the exit. To his surprise, instead of storming out, Toto nods, takes your hand, and leads you back to Grigori’s table.

“Mr. Volkov,” Toto says, his voice steady and controlled, “I think it’s time we had an honest conversation. About Y/N’s past, about your ... association, and about how we move forward from here.”

Grigori raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, well. It seems you’ve found yourself a man with a spine, Y/N. Very well, let’s talk.”

As the three of you settle back into your seats, Grigori can’t help but feel a grudging respect for Toto. Most men would have run for the hills by now, but here he is, ready to face the truth head-on.

“So,” Grigori begins, pouring fresh vodka for all of you, “where shall we start? With Dmitri? With the Bratva? Or perhaps with the mysterious deaths of Y/N’s previous husbands?”

Toto takes a sip of vodka, his eyes never leaving Grigori’s. “Let’s start with the truth. All of it.”

You sigh, your hand finding Toto’s under the table. “Alright. Dmitri was my fifth husband. He was a high-ranking member of the Bratva, and when he died, I inherited his position and his connections.”

Grigori nods approvingly. “She’s being modest. Y/N didn’t just inherit Dmitri’s position — she expanded it. Forged new alliances, eliminated rivals. She became a force to be reckoned with in our world.”

Toto looks at you, his expression unreadable. “And the other husbands?”

You meet his gaze steadily. “They were all older men, all terminally ill. It was a business arrangement. They got to spend their last months with a young wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play, I swear.”

Grigori chuckles. “Oh, come now. There were rumors, whispers of poison, of accidents arranged just so ...”

You whirl on him, your eyes flashing. “Rumors started by people like you. People who couldn’t believe a woman could gain power without resorting to murder.”

Toto squeezes your hand, his voice gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

You turn back to him, your expression softening. “Because I wanted to leave it all behind. When I met you, I saw a chance at a real life, a real relationship. I didn’t want my past to taint that.”

Grigori watches this exchange with growing fascination. He’s never seen you like this — vulnerable, open, genuinely in love. It’s... unsettling.

“And now?” He asks, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. “What becomes of your empire, Y/N? Your power? Your connections?”

You straighten, your voice firm. “I’ve been systematically dismantling it all. Using the resources to fund legitimate businesses, charitable foundations. I’m out. For good.”

Grigori leans back, genuinely surprised. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really walking away from it all.”

Toto speaks up, his voice steady. “We’re building something new together. Something honest, something we can be proud of.”

Grigori studies them both for a long moment, then throws back the last of his vodka. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’ve actually done it. You’ve found a way out.”

You nod, a small smile playing at your lips. “I have. And I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word. Y/N Wolff is retired. Permanently.”

Grigori stands, straightening his jacket. “Consider it done, my dear. But know this — there will always be those who remember who you were, what you were capable of. Be careful.”

As he turns to leave, Toto calls out, “Mr. Volkov?”

Grigori pauses, looking back. “Yes?”

Toto’s voice is calm, but there’s steel beneath the surface. “If anyone from Y/N’s past tries to cause trouble for us, they’ll have to deal with me. And I assure you, I can be just as formidable as my wife when necessary.”

Grigori studies Toto for a moment, then breaks into a broad grin. “I believe you, Mr. Wolff. I really do. Take care of her, won’t you? She’s one of a kind.”

As Grigori walks away, he can’t help but shake his head in amazement. You, the Black Widow of the Bratva, settled down and in love. Will wonders never cease?

He glances back one last time to see you and Toto deep in conversation, your hands intertwined on the table. There’s an openness to your expression that he’s never seen before, a vulnerability that speaks volumes.

For the first time in years, Grigori feels a twinge of envy. Not for your power or your wealth, but for the genuine connection you seem to have found. As he steps out into the cool Monaco night, he wonders if perhaps it’s time for him to consider a change of his own.

After all, if the infamous Y/N can find redemption and true love, maybe there’s hope for an old dog like him yet.

[harrysfolklore]

home hero - charles x reader

gif by @princemick <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Monaco is Charles' home. Growing up, he had watched the Grand Prix from the balconies and rooftops, dreaming of the day he would stand atop the podium. Each year, the pressure mounted as he came so close, only to have victory slip through his fingers.

Today felt different. There was a determined glint in his eye this morning as he kissed you goodbye and headed to the track. You could tell he was ready, more focused than ever before. You had to believe this was his year.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, leaning against the kitchen counter asyou watched him get everything he needed before heading out.

"More than usual," he admitted, flashing you a quick smile,"But I feel good. I have a good feeling about today."

"You’ve got this, Charles. I believe in you," you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you," he hugged you tightly, resting his chin on top of your head.

"You'd still be amazing," you said, looking up at him,"But I'm glad I get to be here with you."

You arrived at the circuit, the familiar roar of engines filling your ears as you made your way to the paddock. You found your usual spot in the Ferrari garage, the team bustling around with last-minute preparations. You exchanged nervous smiles with the crew, all of you hoping for the same outcome.

You watched as Charles went through his pre-race routine, meticulously checking everything himself even though he trusted his team completely. He looked up at you and smiled, his nervous eyes softening the moment they landed on you.

"Hey, come here," he called softly, waving you over.

You walked over, taking his gloved hand in yours. "You’re going to do great, you know that, right?"

"I just," he sighed, "Really want that win, you know? Not just for me, but for my family, my friends, for us," you smiled fondly at his words, "This is my home and everyone believes in me, I don't want to keep letting them down."

"Charles, you've never let anyone down," you squeezed his hand, "You've given everything you have, every time and that's why everyone believes in you. No matter what happens today, you're already a champion in our eyes."

"You're too sweet," he teased with a small smile, pecking your lips quickly, "I need to go. I'll see you after the race."

"Be safe out there," you said, giving him one last lingering kiss.

You watched as he made his way to the car, taking a deep breath before climbing in. The race was about to begin, and the anticipation was palpable. You found your seat in the garage, eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding with every lap.

As the race progressed, it was clear that Charles was driving with everything he had. Lap after lap, he maintained his position and defended his lead against the competition.

With only a few laps to go, the tension in the garage was at an all-time high. You could barely breathe, every fiber of your being focused on Charles and the car.

And then, it happened. Charles crossed the finish line and the checkered flag was waved, securing his first win at the Monaco Grand Prix. The garage erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face.

He did it. He actually did it.

Before you even knew what was happening, you ran to the pit wall, heart soaring with pride as you watched Charles climb out of the car, his face a mixture of disbelief and pure elation. He waved to the crowd, taking in the moment before making his way over to the barrier, his eyes searching for you.

You pushed through the crowd, your heart racing as you made your way to him. When he finally saw you, his face lit up with the brightest smile you'd ever seen.

"Charles!" you called out, your voice cracking with emotion.

"We did it!" he shouted, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly, his voice full of joy and relief.

"You did it," you corrected, laughing through your tears. "I'm so proud of you!"

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said, pressing his forehead against yours. "Fuck! I can't believe this is real."

You kissed him, a sweet and lingering kiss that held all the words you couldn't say in that moment. When you pulled back, you saw the love and gratitude in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with even more pride.

"Now go stand on top of the podium, you deserve it."

The celebrations were in full swing as it was time for the podium. Charles was greeted with cheers and applause from the team, his family, and the fans who had supported him through thick and thin. The Monegasque flag waving proudly above him.

The national anthem played, and you watched as tears of pride and joy rolled down Charles' cheeks. This was the moment he had dreamed of, the moment he worked so hard for. And now, it was finally here.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part six)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: y'all this part absolutely drained me. Idk what it was but I felt so stuck when writing this. I got it to a point where I can start part seven fresh, so fingers crossed whatever happened here doesn't happen again. I hope you all still enjoy it lol <33

part six: because I love you

Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 

As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.

You’ve been fighting a secret battle since the moment he kissed you, the moment everything between you changed. Putting what you were feeling into words felt impossible. What you did know though, is that you were terrified that you wouldn’t be enough for him. Scared that he would snap out of whatever daze he was in and miss the life he had with his wife and kids, the life that didn’t involve you. The life that made sense. 

When you walk back to the bedroom you find Hugh sitting up with his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. His glasses were perched on the lower bridge of his nose, threatening to fall off any moment. His eyes peaked over the frames as he turned to look at you. “Morning baby. I was just about to text you, thought you left.” He sets his phone down on the bedside table as he speaks. “Mhm, just had to pee.” You walk over to the bed and climb up, straddling Hugh’s lap. “Why didn’t you use this one?” He jerks his head to the bathroom that’s attached to the room and you shrug. “I don’t know. The vibes of the thirst trap bathroom just feel different.” You joke. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” He asks, smirking slightly. You shake your head. “Absolutely not.” You affirm and it makes Hugh chuckle. “I was wondering if you had any plans for your last day in the big apple?” His hands rest on your exposed thighs and you become all too aware that you’re still butt ass naked under his t-shirt. “Uhh, not really. I was actually gonna ask if I could hang out with you today…” Your voice is shy. “I was really hoping you’d say that. I might have planned a few things for us.” Hugh smiles and you could feel excitement flood your body. “May I have insight on said plans kind sir?” You put on a posh voice that Hugh mimics. “I’m afraid not my lady, for each destination today is to be undisclosed until further notice.” You drop the bit but not without letting out a deep belly laugh at Hugh’s impressively good accent change. “Can I at least have a little hint so I know what to wear?” He thinks for a moment. “I’m giving you the proper New York tourist day, so wear something comfy.” He pauses. “Maybe wear something incognito. It might be harder to hide than it was the other day.” You hum in acknowledgment. “Do you think I could borrow some underwear or something? I’m feeling a little exposed.” Hugh laughs. 

Your fingers picked at the basketball shorts he let you borrow, tying the strings over and over again as Hugh made breakfast. Small conversation filled the large space and the domesticality of the situation made you flustered. “I’m kinda nervy about the tour. Are you gonna come support me on opening night?” He’s whisking the eggs in a small bowl with a fork and it was oddly attractive. “As long as my schedule allows it, I'll be there. I'd be at every show if I could be.” He looks up and sets the bowl down. “I’d do a lot of things for you, probably anything.” He adds before he turns around to start one of the gas stove burners. It ticks a few times before it catches. “That’s a lot of power to hold and you definitely messed up by telling me that.” You hold your hands up, each finger touching, as you wiggle them in an evil manner. Hugh looks back at you from where he’s moving the eggs around in the pan and smiles. “Don’t get too excited. I said probably anything.” You drop your hands and shrug. “That’s a lot more than I'm used to.” He turns back to the eggs. “Has anyone ever treated you the way you deserve?” The question takes you aback. “I’m not trying to be mean…After hearing some of the things you say and seeing how Pedr-..how he treated you, I’m not seeing anything good. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm confused on how a girl like you has never had anyone treat you right.” He plates the eggs and oils the pan to drop the turkey bacon as if he didn’t drop such a big observation onto you. 

“I uh-...I’m not really sure what to say…I mean I guess I haven’t really had a guy care about me all too much.” He turns to you, staying close to the stove. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You shrug. “I mean you’re not wrong. Everyone always seems to give up on me before anything serious happens…but hey that’s the price of being famous and having my taste in men I guess.” He flips the bacon. “I don’t know how I feel being your taste in men then. They aren’t really setting a good reputation.” He jokes but it stings a little. “Eh. I think you’re doing a lot better than any of them ever did. You’re sweet and kind…and unbelievably sexy.” You tried to steer the conversation away from its original content. It works, Hugh laughs. “You should go take a picture in the mirror again and post it. Your fans would love it.” He takes the bacon off of the pan and sets the pieces on a paper towel lined plate. “I didn’t post that for the fans babe. I posted that for you.” Your jaw drops and you draw a dramatic gasp. “I knew it was a thirst trap. Y’know next time you can just send it to me instead of posting it on instagram. I’d love a few more to add to my collection.” 

“Your collection?” He cocks an eyebrow up and you ignore his question. “Do you need my help with anything? I feel kinda useless just sitting here.” You ask as Hugh pulls out a container of strawberries. “It’s okay baby, I got it.” You hum, fingers going back to the strings on your shorts. Hugh washes a handful of berries and dries them one by one. “You’re good at changing the conversation.” He mumbles and lets out a small huff of a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look at him with an innocent face. He’s silent for a moment, the only sound being the soft knocks of the knife hitting the cutting board. You watched as each slice of the strawberry fell over as Hugh worked. His hands stop for a moment and you look up at him, catching his eyes. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you and that I truly care for you.” His eyes focus back onto the cutting board. “I know that.” You mumble. “Then let that be a reminder. I want to hear the things you’ve been through. I want to know everything about you so I can be the best version of myself for you.” You didn’t know what to say, so instead you hopped out of the chair and hugged him.

–

After breakfast and after you followed Hugh around like a lost puppy while he got ready for the day, he drove you back to your hotel so you could do the same. You were frantically walking back and forth as you got ready, packing your suitcase as you went along. Hugh was sprawled out on the bed, scrolling through his phone. You picked out a pair of baggy black denim cargo pants to wear but you couldn’t decide between the classic ‘i love new york’ t-shirt you bought your first day here or a maroon turtleneck. “Which one should I wear? I’m leaning towards the new york one but I feel like that’s too touristy you know?” You start speaking as you walk out of the bathroom and hold up both shirts. “If I wear the turtleneck then I can probably get away with not wearing a jacket and I can also wear the converse I have that are in the same color.” You stand at a mirror that is in the hallway, putting each shirt over your chest, comparing them. When Hugh doesn’t answer, you turn to see him staring at you. “Hugh did you hear anything I just said?” He’s sat up on the bed now, no longer in the starfish position he was once in. “Wear the new york one baby. You won’t be a tourist forever. There’s only a matter of time before the city becomes familiar.” He explains. “Mm. Good point. Thank you babe.” You throw the turtleneck on your open suitcase and just as you're about to throw the simple graphic tee over your head, Hugh speaks. “Wait..don’t put that on yet. C’mere.” The last part is mumbled as he holds his hands out for you. 

You set your shirt down as you walk over to him. Both his arms snake around your waist as soon as you step between his thick thighs. “You look delicious right now.” His arms loosen as he pulls you back, taking in your appearance. “Is me not wearing a shirt, turning you on Hugh?” You tease. You almost forgot that you were only walking around in a simple black t-shirt bra. It lifted your boobs surprisingly well for the style and you could tell it was getting to Hugh. “What if I said it was?” He asks, eyes moving from your chest to your face. “If this gets you going too easily, you’re gonna struggle when you see the outfits I perform in.” You laugh. “Mhm. I’m excited.” He growls with a smirk before plunging his head towards your cleavage, kissing up and down the exposed skin. “You’re such a hornball.” You let out in your fit of laughter. He rests his face in the crook of your boobs. You can hear him mumbling something but you can’t make out the words. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re saying right now.” He reluctantly pulls his face back. “I said that we could always stay in today instead…Wanna get another taste of you.” His hands grip your waist and you feel a pulse between your legs from his words. 

“As tempting as that is…and it’s really really tempting. I wanna go out with you today, have some normality before life goes back to normal tomorrow. Maybe we’ll have time before my flight…for what you said.” He smiles and pats your butt. “Okay baby. Finish getting ready so we can go.” You lean down with puckered lips, meeting Hugh’s in a sweet kiss. “I’ll be ready in like fifteen minutes.” You promise as you pick your shirt up and run back into the bathroom. 

Somehow in the short time it took you to get ready, Hugh convinced you to let him take you to the airport. You tried to refuse since you already had accommodations made for the early 3:30am flight but he fought back. He said that it would be easier and we could spend more time together before I left. You agreed, wanting to spend every single last second with the man you loved. He threw your suitcase in the trunk of his car and the two of you were off on whatever adventure Hugh had planned. 

The first stop was at Battery park to see the Statue of Liberty. Hugh surprised you with a ferry ride that took you from the park to Liberty island, then Ellis island. You thanked Hugh non-stop as you boarded the ferry. You were a big history nerd and being able to be around objects and buildings that have existed for many generations of people before you, excited you to your core. Hugh was watching your thrill with a smile, sneaking pictures of you when he could- you never noticed. You did ask him to take a few pictures of you as the ferry moved right in front of lady liberty herself. Your smile was wide, eyes crinkled behind your sunglasses. Hugh held you close the entire time, kissing the top of your head every now and then. He would take you all over the world if it meant he got to see you this happy all the time. 

The whole exploration took about four hours. You were very thorough in your wanding, not wanting to miss a single detail. You apologized to Hugh every time you felt like you were taking too long but he never seemed annoyed or upset, just happy to be with you. Once you were back on the mainland, the two of you were starving and started to discuss places to eat. “I think that Stardust place would be fun but I heard it’s almost impossible to get in.” You don’t mean for it to sound like it was something you really wanted to do. You were just thinking out loud. “I can get us in there baby.” Hugh says, shrugging his shoulders. “Hugh Jackman…are you telling me you’d name drop yourself for me?” You smile. “I told you, anything for you sweetheart.” He raises your intertwined hands to his face, leaving a kiss on yours. “As sweet as that is, I could probably name drop myself and get in.” You smile. “It’s probably not smart for you to go into a place full of theater nerds anyway since you’ve been on Broadway multiple times or whatever.” You joke. “You’re probably right. I am quite the Broadway star.” He jokes back. “Fuck it. Let’s just get pizza again. I've only a tourist for so long, remember?” “Fuck it.” He agrees. 

You find a different pizza shop this time, waiting in the car while Hugh goes in to order. You spent the time looking through your phone. You saw a few texts from Ashley and it made your heart ache. She was a terrible friend but you still grieved the good times you did have. Once you got back home, you knew it was probably for the best to talk to her, settle everything, and get some closure. You thought a lot about loose ends you needed to tie as you entered this new chapter of your life, Pedro being one of them as well. You wanted as clean of a slate you could get as you moved forward with Hugh. 

“God I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I walked in there.” Hugh says as he opens the driver door, sitting two styrofoam cups in the center console drink holders. “Do you mind holding this for a moment sweetheart?” He asks, holding up a small box that had a large brown paper bag sitting on top. You grab it and Hugh climbs into the car. “Would it be too cliche if we ate this at the great lawn?” You ask with a lazy grin. “Maybe a little bit but it sounds like a great idea darling.” He smiles back. 

The drive to Central Park was a short one. Finding a parking spot however, took awhile. Hugh drove through one of the nearby parking garages, going up and down until he finally caught someone pulling out. When the two of you finally reached the lawn, you were a little nervous at the amount of people there but you put it aside, hoping that your sunglasses would be enough to hide you from any possible fans. You found a spot, farther away from the larger crowds. It was peaceful for the most part, both Hugh and yourself to engaged in conversation and eating to care about anything else. When you were both done eating, you scooted closer to Hugh, who then offered you to sit between his legs as he leaned back. Your back was against his chest, lifting with every breath he took. “This is nice.” You say, looking up at Hugh. “It is.” He agrees, kissing your forehead. When you look forward again, a girl catches your eye. She’s sitting not too far off and she’s staring. It makes your heart stop, afraid that she might have recognized you or Hugh. Your suspicion is proved right, her eyes go wide and she lifts her phone, pointing it directly in your direction. “Babe, I think that girl is recording us.” You nudge Hugh slightly to get his attention. He looks in the girl's direction and sighs. “Let’s get out of here.” The two of you walk back to the car, hand in hand. 

“Do you wanna go home or are you still up for one more adventure?” Hugh asks once you’re both settled in the car. The way he says ‘home’ makes your heart flutter. You know it’s probably out of habit but it makes you wonder what sharing a home with him would be like, how being with him officially would be. “I’m down for more touristing.” You smile, trying to let go of the bitter mood that girl had put you in. You didn’t mind fans recognizing you but it always sucked when a good moment was taken away because of it- a moment that would have been normal if you and Hugh were ‘normal’ people. 

The sun was starting to set as Hugh drove and it was beautiful. Seeing the city lights take over was a sight to see. “I thought we were going somewhere else?” You ask in confusion as Hugh pulls into the parking garage of his apartment building. “We are but I thought we could walk, if that’s okay with you love. It’s not too far.” He parks the car in his designated spot. “Yea that’s fine.” His hand squeezes your thigh, a place it often sits as he drives. “Let’s go then.” 

You were convinced there wasn’t anything more beautiful than walking through New York at night. You were never fond of big cities, only living in Los Angeles because you had to for work, but something about nyc brings a sense of home you’ve never felt before. Almost like a sense of nostalgia, a longing for a place that felt right. 

The last stop happened to be Times Square. The second you found a good spot, you passed your phone over to Hugh to take pictures of you. It was a little over stimulating the longer you stood there, admiring all of the giant screens and billboards. You tried to tough it out as long as possible but your last straw was when some guy in a janky super hero suit tried to come up to you. Hugh was quick to grab you and lead you away. “I can’t make up my mind on what’s worse, the con artist in Hollywood or the ones here.” You joke, Hugh laughs agreeing. The streets started to empty the further away you got from the square and you were thankful for that. As you walked hand in hand with Hugh, you started to hum the melody of ‘New York, New York’ by Frank Sinatra. Hugh smiles down at you and releases your hand to pull you closer, his arm resting over your shoulder. “Ooo. Can we go in there real quick?” You ask, pointing at the small grocery market across the street. “Sure baby.” You can tell he’s confused so you answer his question before he can ask. “I wanna make dinner for you.” You look both ways down the street before crossing. “You don’t have to do that sweet girl.” The sliding doors open and you’re hit with the cool air. “I want to.” He doesn’t say anything else as he follows you around the store. When you hit the produce section, you lift the sunglasses that had been sitting on your face for most of the day, creating a makeshift headband. You gather a mix of yukon gold and baby red potatoes, as well as a few carrots and a stock of broccoli. “What are you making?” Hugh asks as you walk towards the meat shelves, grabbing a pack of two chicken breasts. “A spicy, maple chicken sheet pan dinner.” You explain, walking towards the next aisle. “A sheet pan dinner?” He questions. “You throw everything onto the same pan, shove it in the oven, and boom, you have dinner.” He laughs. “I guess that makes sense.” 

Hugh insisted on paying for everything but you refused. He had paid for almost everything else since you’ve been in New York and you had to remind him that you too had too much money than you knew what to do with. He complained about it the whole way back to his apartment, it was kinda cute. When you finally got back, you asked Hugh to gather everything you’d need: a cutting board, a large bowl, a peeler, a colander, etc. You wanted to make sure you had everything so he could sit and watch, just as you had with him this morning. “I could get used to this.” You look up from where you're mixing the veggies and seasoning in a bowl. “What, me cooking for you?” You ask, sarcasm present in your voice. “No, you being here with me.” Hugh smiles. “Oh..” You whisper as you dump the prepped veggies onto the parchment lined sheet pan. “Was that too forward?” You’re patting the chicken with a paper towel and placing them in the same bowl as he asks. “No. I like when you say stuff like that, it just makes me all nervous.” You drizzle the chicken in olive oil and add your choice of seasonings. “Why does it make you nervous?” His elbows are on the counter, hands resting in his hands. “Because someone like you likes someone like me, it’s crazy.” You place the chicken on the sheet pan before placing it into the already heated oven. 

Hugh stands up and walks behind you. His arms wrap around you as you wash your hands. “Is it really that hard to believe that I like you?” He asks, giving light kisses to your neck. “Sometimes.” You wiggle out of his arms to dry your hands on a towel that rests on the oven handle. “I must not be doing a very good job at showing it then.” You walk back over to him, where he’s leaning back on the counter. “It’s not you babe, it’s the voices.” You point to your head. “What are they saying?” You think for a moment. “Do you want the default answer or the real answer?” “The real one.” He responds without a second thought. “I think I’m just scared that all of this is temporary.” You say motioned your arms around. “I’m scared that one day you’ll snap out of whatever it is you feel for me and just…just leave and not want me anymore.” He pulls you into his chest. “I don’t know what I can say or do to break you free from that but I can promise that I won't just leave you. If there ever comes a time where I don't want to be with you, which is very unlikely, I’ll tell you.” You don’t say anything as he holds you. The two of you stay like that until the twenty five minute timer you set is going off. 

—

“Do you really have to leave today?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your back softly. After dinner, Hugh went down to fetch your suitcase out of his car. Both of you took showers, separately this time. Now you were straddling his lap, laying forward with your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Unfortunately..” You sigh out. “You can’t stay just a few more days?” He practically pouts and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.  “I really wish I could but duty calls. I jump right into work once I’m back.” This time he sighs. “I’m gonna miss you.” “I’m gonna miss you too.” You give his neck a few small kisses before speaking again. “When are you coming back to LA?” You lift your upper body and rest your hands on his bare chest. “I’m not sure. Got some stuff to deal with here, might take a while.” He lifts himself up, sitting up straight against the headboard, putting you both in the same position as this morning. “Hm. What stuff?” You ask, hands trailing down from his chest to his abs. “Divorce stuff. Ex-wife stuff.” He shrugs slightly and leans forward, his lips meeting your neck as he leaves his own kisses. “Oh..” It comes out more as a moan, Hugh’s teeth nipping at the skin right below your ear. “That must be hard, divorcing after so long together.” His lips falter for a moment. “Doesn’t matter.” He leans back against the headboard. His response made you feel weird. Hugh’s voice was distant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You apologize, letting your hands fall to his shoulders. “It’s okay, it would’ve come up eventually.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it Hugh, it’s okay.” 

“It’s something we should talk about though. It’s not fair to you. You’ve opened up so much to me, I should do the same for you.” You’re silent, not sure what to say. “Does it bother you?”  Hugh asks.

“Does what bother me?” You know what he’s asking but you weren’t sure how to answer. 

“That I was married?” He’s looking at you, but you're looking down at his hands. 

“No.” It wasn’t a lie. Him being married isn’t what bothered you. “Look at me baby.” His voice is stern, a tone that you haven’t heard before. When you look at him his eyes are quick to line with yours. “Does it bother you? Don’t lie to me.” You sigh, hands sliding from his stomach. You rest them on top of his own where they are placed on your thigh. “I wasn't lying. It doesn’t bother me that you were married.” 

“Then what’s up sweet girl? I can tell there's something going on in that pretty head of yours..” The way he’s looking at you makes your heart race. He’s looking at you like you're the most important person in the world, like you mean everything to him. 

“I don’t care that you were married…it’s just..this is gonna sound stupid but..I’m scared of how long you two were together and how recent your divorce was.” 

“What do you mean baby?” 

“Like I said earlier, I’m scared of this being temporary. That I’m just some…god I don’t know…that I’m a rebound or something. That the two of you will realize that being separated wasn’t the right decision.” Your posture breaks as you slump forward slightly. “I knew that she would always be in your life and I’ve been trying to make peace with that…but the thought of you leaving is too much.” You confess. 

“Y/n…What Deb and I had has been over for a long time. It was over years before we finalized anything. Everything now is purely about our kids. I’ll always hold love for her in my heart but it isn’t a romantic love anymore. That love is reserved for you sweet girl, all for you.” His fingers delicately lift your chin. “I’m a devoted man y/n. Once you have me, I’m yours. I promise.” His thumb rubs along your jaw. You lift your pinky and he chuckles slightly. He lifts his own and links it with yours. “Does that mean you’re finally gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?” His eyes widened slightly. “Are you ready to be my girlfriend?” Hugh asks, seriousness fills his voice. “I really want to be.” His eyes soften. “What’s stopping you from being all mine baby?” 

The question is loaded. The answer was full of worries you shoved deep down, hoping they wouldn’t come up as soon as they did. From the moment you walked into his home, you tried your best to ignore the family photos that littered his walls. Photos of him and his wife with wide smiles, their kids standing between them, smiles just as wide. You pushed down every feeling you had as he showed you the rooms he kept for his kids for when they would visit. His daughter's room hurt the most. You saw glimpses of your own teenage years that you’d excited only a few years earlier. His son’s room reminds you that that was the room of a man whose age was more appropriate for you. You’d been reminded non-stop that what you had with Hugh was wrong in the eyes of others, so wrong that you were starting to feel it too.

“Does it ever worry you that our relationship isn’t practical? That it doesn’t make sense?” He makes a face and he looks almost offended.“How doesn’t it make sense? I like you, you like me. You’re happy, I’m happy. What more is there to it?” 

“That’s the thing Hugh. When it comes to you, it will never just be you.” His eyebrows scrunch up. “I'm confused baby.” You sigh. “Hugh, you were married for decades, with kids. What is your ex-wife going to think about you dating a girl that’s thirty three years younger than you? Hell, better yet, what will your kids think Hugh? What are they going to think about you dating a girl that sits right in between their ages?” You rant. “What Deb thinks about us doesn’t matter. She’ll get over it.” His hands give your thighs a small squeeze. “And your kids?” He sighs. “I’m not sure what they’ll think but I’m sure that if I explain it to them they’ll understand. They’re old enough to where you won’t need to be a big part of their lives.”

“I know that babe but I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into your life as it is. I can’t just show up to the family Christmas parties as your girlfriend. Do you know how fucking weird that will be for me, for them?” His face falls and you know he doesn’t take your words the way you intended. “It would be weird to be my girlfriend?” 

“Hugh, that’s not what I meant.” He goes to move you off his lap but you tighten your thighs to stand your ground. “Babe, you have to understand what I mean. I don’t wanna hide from your kids and Deborra. I want to be a part of your life completely and that includes knowing them.” He stops moving and sighs. 

“This isn’t going to be easy y/n. I know I have baggage and I’m sorry that this wasn’t something we talked about sooner. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave and have nothing to do with me.” Hugh lowers his head slightly. “Hugh, I don’t wanna leave you. I’m used to older men, just not ones with ex-wives and kids.” You try to make it lighten the mood, hoping to make him laugh. It doesn’t. 

“Everyone’s gonna hate us if we do this. The fans, your family, probably even my family if I’m being honest. The crazy thing is that I don’t care if everyone hates me but I don’t want to be the reason everyone hates you.” 

Those last words felt like a weight coming off of your shoulders. The words were so simple but had been so hard to say all this time. They were true. You didn’t care if fans turned on you, you didn’t care if your family disapproved, though you couldn’t imagine them disliking Hugh. Selfishly, you also didn’t care that much if Hugh’s family hated you. These were all miniscule issues when it came to you loving Hugh. As long as he was happy, you were happy. But the thought of Hugh experiencing any of that made your skin crawl. You didn’t want him to lose fans he’s had over the long course of his career, you didn’t want to put him through the burden of his family not approving of you and him having to feel the awkwardness every time you were around them. You couldn’t imagine him jeopardizing the life he had built all because of you. You were still building a career. Everyone around you has already experienced you dating men that have no business dating someone your age. You didn’t want to hurt him with the implications that came along with your name and age. 

“That’s not fair to say.” Hugh squeezes your hand. “You can’t put the weight of everything on yourself. If you decide that you want to be with me, then that’s how it’s going to be. You and me. We’ll figure everything out together.” You look off to the side because you know if you look at him the ache you’d been feeling in your throat will betray you. “Look at me.” The hand that isn’t holding yours reaches for your cheek as he attempts to move your face to look towards him. You refuse, already feeling a tear slip down involuntarily. “Baby please.” He tries again and you let him turn your face. A sob escapes, the pain in your neck finally relieved. “What’s wrong y/n? You gotta talk to me.” His voice is sweet and patient. All this man does is care for you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you and your family Hugh. I don’t want them to suffer, all because I love you.” You sob. “You what?” His hands drop down to your knees. “I love you, Hugh.” You try your best to get the words out through the steady stream of tears. “Do you mean that baby?” He asks softly as one hand comes back to your cheek, wiping a few tears away. “Of course I mean it, that’s why I can’t leave you. I feel so selfish because the smart thing would be to walk away so no one gets hurt but I can’t. I love you too much to let you go.” 

“I love you y/n, so much.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Really?” You ask with sad eyes. “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the moment I met you baby. You looked so pretty that day and your voice was like a siren's call. I tried to fight the attraction but when you invited me to your album party, I didn't care anymore. I wanted you.” You grabbed his face at the confession, pulling his lips to yours. You both let every emotion spill into the kiss. “Does this make you my girlfriend now or are we still friends that hook up and love each other?” He asks jokingly with a dopey smile. “As much as I want to say yes, talk to your kids first. Please. I think it would make me feel a little better about everything.” He kisses you. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” 

—

Leaving Hugh felt impossible. Not knowing when you’d see him next and him being around his ex-wife without you here to distract him made you nervous. You trusted him but when it came to you or the woman he was married to for twenty seven years, it was hard to say he'd choose you. Even after his reassurance, you had a feeling she would always come first. 

“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” You ask as you hug him, the two of you in the same hidden room from when he picked you up. “I really wish I could baby. I’ll try to get back out there as soon as I can.” He kisses the top of your head and the two of you stay there for as long as you can. “I should probably go.” You say reluctantly. “Yea, you should.” You give him a few quick kisses. “Don’t leave me waiting too long. I’ll be waiting for you.” You smile at him before giving him one last kiss. “I won’t, sweet girl. Text me as soon as you board and when you land okay?” You grab the handle of your suitcase. “I will.” You start to walk towards the door that leads out to the public but before you go out, you turn towards him one more time. “Bye Hugh.” You give him a small wave. “Bye baby. I love you.” The words make you smile. “I love you Hugh.” You give him one more wave before you walk through the door.

thank you for reading!

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[pepperyduck]

“taping it” with tooru oikawa

this is part four of my kinktober event!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nsfw, timeskip oikawa, recording, degredation, unprotected p in v, finishing inside, backshots, fingering, squirting mention🙌, nasty nasty nasty. (18+ mdni!)

notes: early :33 enjoy first haikyuu fic. also need recommendations for what to do w toji cus i wanna write for him so badddd😆but im out of ideas. love u!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

play ▸

0:01

0:02

0:03

“is it recording?” you ask, soon appearing in the frame as your fiancé adjusts the camera. oikawa squints at the screen, grinning when he can see the full view of the bed behind him. he steps back, turning around, walking over to your cute form, and you’re covering your naked body with a fuzzy blanket. his bare body is shown off to the camera, in all of his glory – hard cock bobbing as he struts towards the bed. 

the hotel room is lit by the two lamps on either side of the bed, casting a yellow-white glow over the both of you. oikawa crawls over you, coming to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. he’s so sweet and tender with you – and awfully desperate to show the world who he really belongs to. you lean into his kiss, locking your lips with his, holding onto his shoulders. his slim, experienced hands come to drag the blanket off you, but you quickly stop him.

“tooru, wait—i’m nervous,” you squeak, giving your fiancé an utterly adorable look with your doe eyes. he smiles at your expression, cockily soaking how anxious he continues to make you, even after so many years of being together. 

“it’s okay, pretty girl,” tooru coos in reply, watching how your eyes cross as they focus on his lips coming to your forehead. the kiss makes you relax into the sheets and let go of the blanket, allowing for oikawa to peel the blanket off. “relax, just gonna show the world how well you satisfy me, y’know, since they’re so concerned.” 

right… the whole reason your soon-to-be husband suggested this tape was because of all the hate comments online, the forum posts and discussions had online about how there’s no way a man like oikawa was going to marry you. your engagement broke the internet, and now, well… 

the two of you were about to break the internet again.

3:46

3:47

3:48

“open your legs, pretty,” tooru commands, pushing the soft blanket to the side of your body. no matter how many times you did this, you always felt so nervous exposing yourself to him. like he was a god among men—and with his looks, no one could blame you. 

“okay, tooru,” you murmur, spreading your thighs slightly. oikawa can’t help but relish in how trembly you are, anticipating his next move. he takes leeway to quickly grab behind your knees, pushing your legs against your chest, holding you in place by the back of your thighs. no time is wasted before he leans down, tongue darting out to meet your slick folds. 

you throw your head back into the soft pillows, hand reaching for tooru’s  hair to pull it. he groans at his locks being tugged, the vibration sending chills down your spine. the tip of his tongue comes to circle around your clit briefly, before wrapping his lips around the nub and suckling delicately. every squeak and moan of his name is music to his ears – and picked up by the camera, too. his tongue dips down lower, slightly fucking you with his tongue to pull more choked whimpers from your throat. 

there’s nothing else like the taste of you to tooru. the way he felt about you would be described as worship – in each conference or interview he quite literally couldn’t shut up about you. he wouldn’t shut up about you. he made sure that everyone knew just how much he loved you.

that’s what he was doing now, too.

9:59

10:00

10:01

“you ready, baby?” tooru coos into your ear, peppering a few tickly kisses to your neck and cheek. you giggle and nod your head. a sweet gasp is drawn out from your lips the moment oikawa lines himself up, your sensitive hole fluttering around just the little bit he had given you. tooru lifts his head up to look at you; with your eyes screwed shut and mouth slightly agape, all in anticipation for him.

tooru slowly begins to push himself in, aching length stretching you out so easily. you whimper loudly at the familiar stretch, a heavenly feeling the more he slips into you. when he bottoms out, tooru stays still for a few moments, giving both of you time to get lost in the feeling. your mind goes halfway blank, and all the way when he begins to pull his hips back and slam them into you. 

his back facing the camera looks a bit awkward at this point, as it shows his whole body tensing up with each harsh thrust he gives you. the camera only picks up on the loud slapping of skin together, and each moan you give that’s loud enough. 

oikawa allows himself to let loose for this first part, jackhammering his pelvis into you meanly. he kisses your cervix every time he slams his cock all the way into you, earning confirming moans and whimpers that you just love it so much. all your noises are compliments to tooru, they each make his head grow bigger and self-esteem rise—as if he needed that, anyway.

28:47

28:48

28:49

“tooru—,”

“what, hmm?”

you slap your hands over your face in embarrassment, all to the pleasure of your fiancé as he opens your legs to rest atop his own. he has you comfortably sat on the corner of the bed, while his legs come on either side of you, trapping you into a position with your thighs open. this position gave the camera a good look at you, feeling more exposed than you had thus far. 

but the second the tips of oikawa’s fingers poke your spongy g-spot, those worries practically melt. 

it would be no surprise to anyone how good the tooru oikawa was with his fingers. but unfortunately for anyone else, they’d never have a chance to experience his skills in the way you did. he had come to know all the sweet spots of you, inside and out, and he used them to his full advantage. tooru took pleasure in making you crumble by himself, and how easily you did so. 

the camera picks up the lewd imaging of you spread out, the famous setter’s middle and ring finger slowly yet surely pumping in and out of you, your body quivering each time he hit that spot.

49:56

49:57

49:58

“tooru—please,” you plead, choked sobs coming from your throat.

your fiancé has no intentions of giving up on his crusade—but you’re beginning to regret allowing him to make this tape. he had been fingering you for realistically about 20 minutes, but in your mind, it felt like 20 years. 

it was insane how much pleasure can be brought to you by someone’s hand.

a nasty squelching is halfway picked up by the microphone, but unfortunately, the viewers wouldn’t be able to hear the filth being poured into your ears. it was unholy, the mouth on that man. yet he whispered so quietly, just to you, some things that would honestly ruin his career—almost as much as this sex tape would.

tooru’s constant switching of attitude gave you whiplash.

“you’re so disgusting, getting off like this in front of a camera.” “this feel good, baby? ohh, what about this?” “so pretty, baby, look at yourself.” “tell them how much you love me.” “oh my god, did you just squirt on me? nasty.”

you practically cry of embarrassment, shame, and pleasure all in one as you gush around tooru’s fingers. eyes roll into the back of your head, crying out more when he rips his fingers out of you just to rub your clit and force more out of you.

chest heaving, you throw your head back onto tooru’s chest, waving a white flag to tell him you were ruined. yet, after giving you a whole minute to calm down, he kisses your cheek and begins to shuffle, moving you and flipping you around. before you know it, your eyes can’t help but make out your figure in the camera, in a deep, lazy arch.

“almost done showing ‘em, babe.”

1:12:17

1:12:18

1:12:19

tooru revels in the reflection of himself in the camera, a smug look on his face when he clutches onto your hips even tighter. your poor body is all the way fucked out, pathetically shoving forward into the sheets. 

“where do you want me to cum, angel?” oikawa smoothly asks, cocky grin apparent just from the way he speaks to you, “tell ‘em where you want it.”

“inside, tooru—cum inside, please,” you reply, making sure it’s loud enough to be picked up on film.

your fiancé wastes no time to harden up with his thrusts, bursting inside of you after a few pumps. your walls squeeze around him and milk him dry, keeping inside every bit of seed you were gifted. shaky legs twitch and spasm when tooru pulls out of you, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss on your left temple. 

mere seconds pass, and oikawa steps off the bed—somehow, still hard—and walks over to the camera, smiling at your tired body, leaving an awkward angle of his face as he picks it up to stop the recording.

1:15:43…

replay? ⟳

[fastboatsmojito]

❛ keep the noise down, baby. you're too loud. ❜ with the roommate trope and Carmy

“Keep the noise down, baby. You’re too loud.” From this smutty dialogue list + the roommate trope for my 100 followers party !!

| a/n; this was softer than I expected it to be so I hope that’s fitting, soft Carmy save me </3

| cw; 18+ smut btc !! Softdom!Carmy <3 afab gn reader, PnV, no condom mentions sorry

| wc; 459

You couldn’t help but smile when he was like this, all sweet and pliant after a particularly rough day at the restaurant. You’d slowly became a little more than roommates, still blurring the lines between friendship and whatever you’d call this.

He was a goner the second he saw you in your pjs on the couch, greeting him with a smile and a wave over, the domesticity of it all made him warm.

“Hi Carmy.” God he loved how soft his name sounded coming from you, never cold or rough like it had been all day with everyone else. It was soft, sweet like your perfume lingering on your neck as he sat down and leaned into you.

“Hi, baby.” His new second favorite word, it rolled off of his tongue smoother than he’d anticipated the first time, earning a smile so sweet from you that he couldn’t possibly stop.

He needed a shower, wincing as you cuddled into him, surely smelling the restaurant still stuck on his clothes - always unsure that he was clean enough, sweet enough, good enough. You didn’t seem to mind, pressing your nose against the side of his neck as he pulled you onto his lap.

This was exactly what he needed, deep sigh of relief coming out of him when you threaded your fingers in his hair. He couldn’t thank you enough for somehow always understanding him so well, grabbing one of your hands with his own and leaving soft kisses on your wrist to try anyway.

The soft ache deep in your stomach was slowly radiating, sighing as he moved the arm wrapped around you under the back of your top, warm fingers residing on the small of your back as he kissed his way up your neck.

He kissed the corner of your mouth before your lips, letting you pull him closer so his tongue could find your own. Both of his hands moved under your shirt, grabbing handfuls of skin anywhere you’d let him as his touch got firmer, not rushed but desperate.

“Carmy,” You breathed into his mouth, throwing your arms around his neck when he wordlessly lifted you up, bringing you back to his bed.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

His thrusts were slow, just filling you deep while your hands clutched his back, your legs wrapping around his hips while you panted his name.

His hand not supporting himself against the headboard moved down to rest his thumb against your clit, waiting until you were breathlessly begging for it and shushing you when you did just that.

“I know, baby, but you’re being too loud. Beg quietly for me.” He crooned, slowly dragging himself out of you before quieting you with his mouth and pushing his way back in.

<33

[ningvory]

love & basketball — yu jimin

𝜗𝜚ㅤ: gp!basketball player karina x cheerleader!reader

𝜗𝜚ㅤ: your girlfriend, yu jimin, the basketball captain on the school, wins the game for the team. now she wants to celebrate the win with her favorite cheerleader captain.

𝜗𝜚ㅤ: word count: 2.5k

CW: lots of fluff, smut, college au, unprotected sex (no no!) oral (r.receiving), kissing, soft sex (wow that’s a first), kissing, creampie, mating press, teasing, reader blacks out for a sec, squirting, cum eating, praise, pet names

a/n: this took wayy longer than expected so now it’s considered a 1.6k special… thank you all so much for 1.6k!! special thanks to my favorite basketball player @hearts-4-vicky cuz idk a thing about basketball <33

the cheers of the crowd echoed in the gymnasium as the home teams leader, your girlfriend slam dunked on the net before her teammates surrounded her with excitement. karina had just put the team way ahead of the opposing team.

you’re exhausted from all the cheering you’ve been doing for the entire game but, you couldn’t fight the adoring smile that appeared on your face. in complete awe while watching your girlfriend on the court before you called out the next cheer with your cheering voice.

she’s been the captain of the team ever since freshman year and now the two of you are seniors of your university. she’s very versatile and could play basically all the roles if needed. she always made sure her members had the right form, the right attitude when it’s time to practice, that they communicate, and etc. her motto was ‘you came here to practice, come to practice with a good attitude and leave that other shit at the door.’

whenever you had your offdays you would come by and watch their practices, and karina couldn’t help but show you off to her teammates. but she always let them know who you belonged to. sometimes even after practice she would still be practicing and vise versa.

it was a bit cliche that you happen to be the cheerleading captain and you’re dating the basketball captain of your university, sounds like you’re living straight out of a movie and that’s what people tell you.

it’s the last minute during the game and it’s a tie. the crowd is tense, anticipating for one of the teams to win the final match of the season. you don’t usually get nervous during games but now you are. maybe it’s because this is one of the biggest basketball match’s in a while.

the match was closing in, 7 seconds on the clock and karina has the ball in her hands before she’s shooting the ball in the air behind the three-point line. the crowd roars in cheers and excitement when the ball goes into the hoop, giving the home team 3 points, wining the game by 46-43 points.

you sprinted over to the court, excited screams and squeals leave your mouth while you embrace her with a hug. she quickly embraced you as well and spinning you around.

“jiminie baby—you did a-amazing!” you huff out between kisses and giggles, after every game she always does this and you know you’ve won in life.

karina pulls back, hands falling down to meet your waist, “i always do good with the best cheerleader cheering me on,” she smirks before she’s placing a kiss to your lips.

you can’t help but let out a giggle and lightly hitting her shoulder, “y’know i cheer for the whole team, not just you,” you say before you stand up on your toes and pressing a soft kiss to her plump lips.

she chuckles into the kiss before she’s bringing her hands to cup your face. “it only says that on papers baby, me and you both know that,” she winks before she’s eying your body up and down. still in the short green and white skirt and the matching green and white top.

you quickly notice before you stare right at her with a smirk, “my eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

your little moment is cut short, because her teammates and your fellow cheerleaders are soon surrounding you all and cheering.

the once filled stadium is now closed down for the day and the night has grown calm and quiet. the players and the cheerleaders were in the locker rooms getting all their stuff packed so they can make their way back to their dorm rooms or apartments, it was late and most of them were exhausted.

you two were the first to get ready and karina just couldn’t take her eyes off you. she’s carrying her bag on her shoulder and leading you outside, leaving you no room to protest.

“hey—baby—what’s goin—,” you protest when she pushes you to the wall but your silenced when she takes your hand and places it on her clothed dick, hardened under your hands.

but before anything got sensual, the locker door flys open and her teammates walk out, yours walking right behind.

“ohh~ someone’s getting fucked good tonight!” karina’s teammate giselle, teases the two of you. she shamelessly checks you out, her gaze real focused on your ass in your short skirt.

you two can’t help but laugh at her, it’s always been in her nature to joke like that and plus, she’s the school’s fuck girl. those who’ve been fucked by her says she can really please a girl with that dick of hers but she’s not someone whose looking for a long term relationship.

“shut up, gi,” karina lightly hits her shorter teammate with a laugh before she’s picking her bag back up. luckily she’s wearing loose pants so no one can really notice her boner unless they stare long enough.

the walk back to the car was always you favorite part of the night. you two walk next to eachother, warm hands holding her colder ones. you can't help but daydream and remember the first time you both met, a smile always paints your face thinking about the memories.

—

the first time you met, karina was actually a loser. hard to believe with the kindness and the beauty she has. she would always sit in the back of the class, one airpod in her ear. but you, you were the it girl of the university. no one couldn’t tell you that you weren’t that girl anyways, you were great in academics, being a fashion designer and as well as the cheerleading captain, and of course you’re pretty.

you were actually thrilled that you were sharing a dorm with another girl, hopefully being able to help her if she had a struggle adjusting, after all this was the first year of uni for you both.

but on the other hand, many thoughts filled karina’s mind. she really hated the fact that she had to be forced to spend years with another person she’s never even met before. she just hoped her roommate was a nice person.

she was starting to overthink, something that she hated as well. she decided to entertain herself to distract herself from all the nervous thoughts that flooded her mind. she went over to the bathroom, already claming her sink. turning on the water before she cups her hands to get the water and splashing her face with cold water, calming herself down which worked. she began walking back to her room until she heard a voice.

“hi! you must be my roomie, nice to meet you.” your voice echoed, making karina turn around to the source of the sound. there was a girl standing with a few of her luggage, her beauty was breath taking.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i’m y/n!” you softly said, a cute smile on your face.

karina slightly looked down to see your extended arm and an opened hand with freshly painted nails, “hi…i’m karina! nice to meet you, y/n,” her face lifted up into a smile, reaching to meet your hand. her slightly cold hands felt warm from your soft warm hands.

—

that was the first interaction you ever made. she was a sweetheart from the very beginning, you asked her was her hobbies were and it actually surprised you that she said she really loved basketball. so you told her after school that you wanted to see her hoop.

per usual at the public basketball courts, there were people already playing when you two got there. the two of you watched as one of the teams were struggling to communicate with eachother. really just yelling and arguing more than working together, this caused karina to let out an angry sigh. the main thing about basketball was that it was a team sport, communication is key to the whole game.

just when things were about to get violent, karina stepped in. breaking up the argument with the two girls that were about to throw hands.

just after that, karina joined their team after acting like the captain of the group and getting the team back together. you watched how she passed the ball to her teammates. she set up every opportunity for the team to score much more easily, and communicating with her team. she wasn’t much of a talker so it surprised you how she acted like a different person on the court.

the game ended with karina’s team winning, you were amazed at her talent and passion for the sport you just had to get her to tryout for the official team. from that point on, you two had grew closer and closer, eventually she told you to refer to her by jimin. karina was a name she preferred for people who didn’t know her like that.

—

“what’s got’cha thinkin’ baby?” you girlfriend teased, noticing that you were daydreaming for a awfully long time. you hadn’t realized that you made it to the car.

“remembering the first moments we had together, we’ve grown so far,” you giggled. hugging the taller girl and staring into her eyes with adoration.

she didn’t say anything but smile back at you, cupping your face and kissing your forehead before opening the car door for you to get in.

the car ride was mostly quiet, the radio playing whatever was trendy while jimin drove back to your shared apartment with her hand resting comfortably on your plush thigh.

when the two of you arrived, she opened the door for you to get out the car before closing it and locking it. you both walked up the apartment stairs, hand in hand. when you both made it to the shared apartment, she opened the door for you once again.

once the door was locked, all the bags she was carrying dropped to the floor with a thud, she pulled you to her room and laid you down on her soft bed. you two continued what was started earlier with her ontop of you. your hands were all over her and vise vera, the two of you sloppily made out. soft moans filling the room from the both of you. the air felt thicker, and soon the two of you parted with a gasp and the string of spit that connected your lips together broke.

“so pretty baby, so pretty cheering me on the whole night, fuck..look what you do to me baby.” she grunted. she started grinding slowly into you, making you feel her hardened cock.

when you both were intimate, usually you were the dominant. it’s like she becomes puddy in your hands and she just wants to watch your fucked-out body on top of hers riding her pretty cock.

“let me do all the work, ‘kay?” she softly says, looking down into your pretty eyes waiting for the confirmation from you.

once she got that confirmation, she immediately went to work by undressing you. she took off your uniform top, throwing it somewhere in the room. she began kissing down your pretty body while undressing you.

she slowly takes off your uniform skirt, along with your protective shorts. she sat right infront of you, spreading your legs and pulling your panties drenched in your slick off, making you whimper at the cool air hitting your pretty cunt.

jimin let out a low ‘fuck’ her mouth began to water at the sight of your drooling cunny squeezing around nothing. she needed to taste you so bad, so she dives in. kitten licking and softly sucking on your lil clit, her mind is already hazy and she’s humping her bed while moaning into your cunt.

her hands lifted your thighs and resting them on her shoulders. she sloppily makes out with your cunt, slurps and moans come from her going down on you. moans and cries rip from your chest, hands frantically moving to grip her head. the tight grip you have on her hair has her moaning into your cunt, you let out the loudest moan you ever made when she starts shaking her head and tongue fucking into your cunt.

“ah, ngh! shit!” your voice is airy and high pitched, back arching and pulling her even more closer to your cunt and grinding yourself on her face as your climax approaches: “ji—ah!—r-right there! c-cumming!”

you came all over her pretty face, she rides you through your intense orgasm. kitten licking your cum-covered cunt and planting kisses to your cunt.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart. think you're ready f'me," jimin praises you. she began to undress herself. she took off her shirt first, unclasping her bra, making her pretty tits bounce. you had the urge to just have her sit on your lap and suck on her perfect tits, that’ll be something for another day.

she stepped out of her sweats and pulled down her boxers, reaching her angry red cock that was oozing with precum.

you never got used to her size, you were gripping onto her hand for dear life as her large cock bullies your tight hole, splitting your quivering cunt in half.

jimin started littering your face in kisses before slipping her tongue inside your mouth. the way her cock slid back in forth inside your twitching walls while her cock head bullies your cervix had you moaning into her mouth and gripping on her sheets.

she pulled away from your mouth and put your legs on her shoulders before leaning in closer to you to where your foreheads are almost touching, folding your body in half and in a mating press. she angles her cock with your hole before slamming down into you.

a loud whimper rips from your chest and a airy moan comes from jimin. you were so far gone, drool began seeping out your mouth and your eyes were rolled back while she kept pounding into your tight cunt.

“shit—doin s-so well for me baby, look so pretty like this,” jimin praised you, rolling her pelvis into your cunny and pinching your nipples.

tears began blinding your vision and your moans turned into squeals when jimin’s cock hits your sweet spot. you began to shake violently before you squirted all over jimin and her bed, blacking out in the process.

the view of you below her cumming undone has her pounding quicker into your cunt, desperate for release. it didn’t help that your unconscious self began squeezing her cock, making her moan loudly before she’s filling you up with her warm seed and some spilling out from how much she came.

you don’t know long you were out for but your eyes fluttered open to being laid on top of jimin in freshly new clothes and freshly new bed sheets.

“welcome back, pretty. might’ve went a little overboard.” jimin speaks, apologizing for her behavior earlier.

“noo, s’okay i loved it,” your voice was groggy from earlier, making the two of you giggle, “i’ll get you some tea.” jimin says before slipping out of bed and going to the kitchen.

you know you’ve got the best girlfriend in the world.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Ooh so for the prompts

Spitting in their mouth and hurting them in front of a mirror so they’re forced to watch with Fyodor? Cause he's often super prideful and I have a huge corruption (idk if you'd call it that) kink and it would be fun to break him a lil <3

HAPPY ONE YEAR BLOG ANNIVERSARY BTW YOUR WORK IS AMAZINGGG 💗

THANK YOU DARLING <33 oh and I paired these up cuz they’re a little similar :] (also I feel like this one isn’t that good)

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor - reader is gn

Warning: mirror play, biting, kissing, marking, hair pulling, spiting, teasing, dirty talk (?), a bit manhandling

Anniversary event

“See your reflection, fedya?” You made eye contact with him through the mirror, chin resting on his shoulder while he made himself comfortable in your lap. “Of course I do.” Fyodor answered, a slight frown on his face. He wondered why you wanted to bring a mirror into your play session. “Mhm, look at you, such a pretty boy.” A slight rustle of your clothes, then you pointed at the laid out scene in front of you, kissing his neck softly when you noticed him watching.

His shoulders jerked a little, heart racing by a lot, most of it being due to shame. A shiver ran down his spine. “Is this all? A little bit of kissing?” He teased, almost disappointed as he turned around to properly look you in the eyes. You shook your head, nudging him in order to make him look back into the mirror, mumbling, “be a good boy and keep watching. It’ll be fun.” The ‘good boy’ in question didn’t see the ‘fun’ in it like you did, though nonetheless, he listened to you and obediently did as he was told.

Then you resumed kissing him, moving your lips along the smooth edges of his jawline, down to his throat and lastly his shoulders. You felt him relax in your grasp, a soft sigh leaving his lips while he slumps back against your chest. Seeing how peaceful this was, you wanted to tease him a little, blowing hot air against his ear as you asked, “Feels nice?” He nodded, eyes half-lidded as he lazily gazed into the mirror, still a little confused. “Ah? Want some more action then?”

Fyodor didn’t think much about it, he must have been dozing off since he nodded so easily. “I’ll start slow so don’t worry.” You smirked, then chomped down on his neck, leaving behind nasty bite marks. “Ah- ahhhHh.??!” He yelped in surprise at the sharp pain spreading from the wound, irritating his skin. When you bit him, you didn’t know when to stop, all you could feel was his tender skin getting crushed and the hardness of the muscles a layer beneath.

That’s why it went as far as you drawing blood.

His gaze fixated on his reflection in the mirror, playing out in front of him like a movie. He felt his insides twist and curl when he saw some blood prickling from his bite wound, and you licking it up eagerly. “Ughh..!” When he tried to turn his head around once more, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked on it, forcing him to stay seated. “Wha- y/n..?” You interrupted him, “I told you to look ahead, fyodor.” He gulped, eyes slowly wandering back to the object opposite of him.

Poor boy, he couldn’t keep his small whines of pain mixed with lust down whenever you tugged at his hair, or left more marks of ownership on his skin. Soon, his neck and shoulder area looked like a battlefield, with all these bites and hints of remaining blood. Then, by accident, your eyes met. He fixated on your gaze through the mirror, shivering with anticipation. You whispered with an unreadable smile, “aren’t you a cute thing? Making such lewd sounds just by watching your reflection?”

He digressed, wanting to turn around again before stopping himself, not wanting to disobey your orders again, “you’ve been making advanced on me, of course this would happen.” It sounded more like an excuse than an argument, and he didn’t exactly say it with much conviction. “Is that so?” You asked again, pulling at his silky hair. Now you were the one to make him turn and look at you.

“Huh?” His eyes widened, blinking a few times in shock. Fyodor was arching his back because of you tugging his head backwards, hands bawled into fists as he rest them on his thighs. “Stick your tongue out, fedya.” You said, face hovering inches above him, gazing down at him all smug and affectionate. He thought you were going to kiss him, so he blushed a little, then obliged nonetheless. Awkwardly sticking his tongue out, eyelids hanging low over his pupils.

You thought he looked really cute like that. Looking so eager to kiss you, basically trembling with excitement. With something so cute in your presence, you wouldn’t not smile, lips pressed tightly shut to suppress a smirk before kissing the tip of his nose. He frowned at your teasing gesture, wet muscle still hanging out like you wanted. “Don’t look so mad.” You chirped and leaned down to his lips, but instead of doing what he expected, you also stuck out your tongue and let your saliva drip down into his mouth.

He was like frozen, unmoving like a statue. Then you clasped a hand over his lips, telling him, “swallow.” It took a moment for him to register your words, but when he did, his cheeks flushed and he shook his head. “Why, embarrassed?” You muttered, continuing with, “don’t be, I’ve made you do worse.” Fyodor hesitated, then gulped, you saw his Adam’s apple moving. Once he finished, you pulled your hand back, and a whimper immediately followed.

“HnnGh…” some tears were swelling in the corners of his eyes, or you were just imagining it. Nevertheless, you leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “see? Wasn’t so hard. And it seems you enjoyed it in the end anyway.” He whined again, involuntarily of course but he still did, and avoided your gaze by turning to the side, mumbling meekly, “stop talking..” seeing how worked up he was, you couldn’t help yourself, grinning from ear to ear as you teased, “you sure? Since based on your little whimpers, you seem to like what I’m doing quite a bit.”

There was no answer from him, he was way too humiliated to do anything against your relentless teasing. The boy shuddered, and you let go of his hair, instead making him look into the mirror again. “Anyway, shall we continue where we left off?” He had to brace himself for a long night.

[onlinesuzie]

☆ ‘good boy hamzah’ ☆

words: 1.6k

genre: smut, sub hamzah

summary: hamzah is desperate for you and will do anything to make you feel good.

notes: hi guys!! this is my first smut i hope you guys love it <33

♡

The atmosphere was thick as you sat on the edge of the couch, your heart racing. Hamzah had been desperate for you since he got home, and all you could do was admire how beautiful he was, his curly brown hair freshly washed, his big brown eyes sparkling, knelt before you, his gaze locked onto yours with a longing that was sending your mind spiralling with intense thoughts.

He reached out, his fingers gently stroking your leg up and down, his touch soft and gentle. “I’d do anything for you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “You know that, right?”

You could feel the warmth radiating from his hands, and the way he looked up at you made your heart hum. “I know,” you replied, your voice low and understanding. “But what do you want to do for me right now?”

Hamzah’s eyes sparkled with eagerness. “I want to make you feel amazing. I want to please you my love,” he said, his fingers continuing their slow caress along your thigh, igniting a fire within you.

“Then show me,” you encouraged, your breath hitching as you felt the heat of his desire. Hamzah’s expression shifted, and he leaned in closer, pressing soft open mouthed kisses along your leg, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As he made his way up your thigh, you could feel your body responding to his every touch. “You’re such a beautiful boy,” you whispered, slightly tugging at his hair, feeling him smile into your thigh.

“Hamzah,” you moaned, your heart racing as he continued to worship your leg, his hands exploring its softness. “I want you to eat me out.”

His eyes widened with delight, and you could see the need in them. “Please,” he replied, his voice thick with anticipation. He shifted his position, positioning himself between your legs, looking up at you for approval.

“Make me feel good,” you urged, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned in, his mouth finding your core with a primal urgency. You gasped, the sensation sending pulses of hot blood through your body as he began to explore you with his tongue.

Hamzah was attentive, his movements eager and precise, as he brought you closer to the edge. “Your taste, fuck… you taste… so fucking good” he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through you, making pleasure course through your body.

“Thank you, my good boy,” you praised, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he continued to pleasure you, his tongue so gentle that it drove you wild. Each flick and swirl made you gasp, squeezing your thighs together, guiding him closer, urging him on.

As the pleasure built within you, you could feel yourself getting closer. “I’m so close,” you gasped, and Hamzah responded by focusing even more intently, his tongue much rougher now as he brought you to the brink.

With a final surge, you cried out, your body trembling as you reached your climax, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Hamzah pulled away, his lips glistening with you, a satisfied smile on his face. “Did I make you feel good?” he asked, his voice filled with both a subtle shyness and pride.

You nodded breathlessly, pulling him up to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. “You did. But you deserve something in return.

You cupped his face in your hands, looking deep into his warm brown eyes. “You’ve been such a good boy for me tonight,” you said softly, watching as he nuzzled into your arm, a look of pure adoration on his face. “Such a beautiful boy.”

He gazed up at you, his eyes filled with love and longing. “What do you want to give me?” he asked, his voice whispering, filled with anticipation.

You smiled playfully, feeling a rush of power as you edged him. “I want you to wait a little longer,” you teased, your fingers trailing down his jawline. “I want to see just how much you can handle.”

Hamzah gulped and sighed deeply, his body responding to your words. “I’ll do anything for you,” he promised, his eyes filled with devotion.

“Good,” you said, leaning in to kiss him softly, then pulling away just as quickly. You could see the need written all over his face, and it thrilled you to know you had him right where you wanted him.

“Now, let’s see how much longer you can wait,” you said, your voice low and addictive.

The tension in the room was pure sex as you watched Hamzah, his eyes filled with longing and need. You could see the way he was trying to control himself, the way his body was responding to your teasing. It turned you on to know that you had him completely at your mercy.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice laced with desperation. “I need you.”

You smiled, enjoying the power you held over him. “I know you do,” you replied, your voice sultry. “But I want you to wait just a little longer. You’ve been such a good boy for me tonight, and I want to make this special.”

“I can wait,” he promised, though you could hear the slight tremor in his voice. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“My beautiful boy,” you praised again, gently caressing his face with your thumb. You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Just remember that I’m in charge.”

With that, you gently pushed him back, guiding him to lie down on the couch. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You could see the way his eyes darkened as he looked up at you, his hands instinctively gripping your waist, fingers digging in slightly to try and gain any friction he could.

“Now, Hamzah,” you said, your voice teasing. “I want you to tell me how much you want me.”

Hamzah swallowed hard, his gaze unwavering. “I want you so badly,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I need to feel you, to taste you again. I’ll do anything.”

You smirked, enjoying the way his words made you feel. “Good boy,” you replied, leaning down to capture his lips in a heated kiss. His hands roamed your body, but you pulled back just enough to keep him wanting more.

“Not yet,” you teased, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath your touch. “You need to show me just how much you want it.”

Hamzah let out a frustrated groan, his need unsatisfied. “Please, I can’t take it anymore,” he pleaded, his eyes wide and desperate. “I’ll be so good for you, I promise.”

You reveled in his desperation, enjoying the way he was completely at your mercy. “Alright,” you said, finally relenting. “But you have to do exactly what I say.”

He nodded eagerly, his eyes filled with determination. “Anything. Just tell me what to do.”

“Good,” you said, feeling a rush of excitement. “I want you to touch yourself for me. Show me how much you want me.”

Hamzah’s breath hitched, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to obey. Slowly, he moved his hands down to his own body, his fingers brushing against himself as he followed your command. You watched intently, your heart racing at the sight of him so vulnerable and eager.

“Tell me how it feels,” you instructed, your voice teasing.

“It feels so good,” he gasped, his eyes locked on yours. “I want you to touch me, to feel me. I need you.”

“Not yet,” you teased, your voice hot on his skin. “I want to see you lose control.”

Hamzah’s breathing became more ragged as he continued to touch himself, the desperation in his voice growing. “I’m so close,” he admitted, his eyes pleading with you.

“Good boy,” you praised, feeling a rush of power. “But I want you to hold on just a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

“I can,” he promised, though the strain in his voice told you how difficult it was for him. “Just… please.”

You leaned down, capturing his lips in a hot kiss, your bodies fitting together perfectly as you continued to tease him, enjoying the way he was whimpering into your mouth.

As you kissed him, you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension between you two thick. Hamzah’s hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging in as he fought to maintain control.

“Just a little longer,” you whispered, pulling back to look into his eyes.

He nodded, breath quickening. “I’ll do anything you want. Just please don’t make me wait too long.”

“Such a beautiful boy,” you praised, your fingers trailing down his chest. “But I want you to focus on me. Tell me how much you want me.”

“I want you so badly,” he confessed, desperation lacing his voice. “I need to feel you, to taste you again.”

“Good boy,” you replied, your heart racing. “But remember, you need to wait for me. I want to see how far you can go.”

With that, you leaned down, kissing him deeply while your hands roamed his body. “Keep touching yourself,” you instructed, “but stop just before you reach that edge.”

Hamzah nodded, determination etched on his face as he resumed his movements. “I’m so close,” he gasped, his breath hitching. “I want to let go, please.”

“Well done,” you praised, feeling a rush of pride. “Hold on for me.”

As he continued, the tension in the room grew thicker, and you could see the struggle in his eyes. “I can’t hold on much longer,” he admitted, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Then let go,” you urged, your voice demanding. “But only when I say you can.”

With a final gasp, Hamzah’s body trembled, and you could see the moment he lost control. “I can’t—” he cried out, and with your encouragement, he let go, his body shuddering as he reached his climax.

“Good boy,” you whispered, watching him ride the waves of pleasure.

[faithfulren]

veiled affections

hi everyone !! thank u for 250 likes <33 tysm for the support, it means the world to me :)

in the halls of UA, katsuki bakugo and you share stolen glances and secret moments, hiding a forbidden love from the watchful eyes of classmates and teachers. but as the pressure mounts and danger looms, you both realize that keeping your relationship hidden may be harder than you ever imagined.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the halls of UA academy bustled with activity as students hurried to their next class. among them, you and katsuki bakugo moved with purpose, your steps carefully timed to avoid drawing attention. ever since you started dating in secret, every moment together felt like a precious stolen treasure.

"meet me at the training grounds after class," bakugo whispered as he passed you in the hallway, his crimson eyes flashing with excitement.

you nodded, a thrill coursing through you at the thought of another clandestine meeting. keeping your relationship hidden was risky, but the moments you shared with bakugo made it all worthwhile.

as the final bell rang, you made your way to the training grounds, heart pounding with anticipation. bakugo was already there, waiting impatiently.

"took you long enough," he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your own smile. "you know I can't just skip class like you."

he stepped closer, his gaze intense as he reached out to cup your cheek. "i missed you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

you leaned into his touch, savoring the rare moment of tenderness. "i missed you too," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words.

but before you could savor the moment any longer, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the spell. with a quick glance around, you both realized that you were no longer alone.

"quick, hide!" you hissed, pushing bakugo behind a nearby stack of equipment.

he scowled but complied, disappearing from view just as your classmates rounded the corner. you held your breath, praying that they wouldn't notice anything amiss.

"hey, have you seen y/n?" one of them asked, scanning the area.

you forced yourself to stay calm, plastering on a nonchalant expression. "nope, haven't seen them."

your classmates shrugged and continued on their way, oblivious to the close call. once they were out of sight, you let out a sigh of relief, turning to bakugo with a sheepish grin.

"that was close," you said, laughing nervously.

he snorted, rolling his eyes. "tch, they almost caught us."

you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "but they didn't. and as long as we're careful, they never will."

he squeezed your hand, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. "yeah, as long as we're careful."

the unease lingered between you, a reminder of the risks you were taking to be together. but as you looked into bakugo's eyes, you knew that it was worth it. no matter what obstacles stood in your way, you were determined to fight for your love.

and fight you did, through secret meetings and whispered conversations, each one a testament to the strength of your bond. but as the days turned into weeks and the pressure of keeping your relationship hidden mounted, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger was closing in.

little did you know, your secret love affair was about to be put to the ultimate test, forcing you to confront the truth of your feelings and the risks you were willing to take to protect the one you loved.

[pinkssluv]

1980s Bsf! Reader X Bsf! Matt

Please be nice this is my first time writing <33 lol.

Lmk if I should continue this! :)

It was Thursday night, the evening before your and Matt’s annual Friday movie night. You waited in front of the school for Matt to swing his car around from the parking lot. When he pulled up, you rolled your eyes—his other best friend, Michael, was sitting in the passenger seat.

As you walked toward the car, Matt patted Michael’s chest. “Come on, man. Head to the back.” A small smile tugged at his lips, as if he already knew Michael would protest.

“No way! You get in the back, sweet cheeks,” Michael shot back, smirking, which made Matt scrunch his face at the nickname.

“Mike, moooveee from my seat,” you interjected, dragging out the word.

“Technically—” Mike began, raising a finger in a mock-know-it-all way.

Before he could continue, Matt honked the horn, cutting him off. “Get to the back, man,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Michael unbuckled his seatbelt. “Alright, you know what? I don’t need this,” he scoffed dramatically, stepping out of the car. “Enjoy your seat, princess,” he teased.

You giggled as you climbed into the passenger seat, glancing out the window to see Michael still standing there with an attitude.

“Dude, are you getting in the car or what?” Matt asked, suppressing a laugh at Michael.

“Who, me?” Michael asked, pretending to look around. “No, I’ll just stand here and get a ride since my best friend is divorcing me.”

You and Matt exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up,” Michael muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, man. Are you seriously not getting in?” Matt asked, grinning.

“Leave me alone, Matthew,” Michael said dramatically before walking away.

You turned to Matt, chuckling. “That’s your best friend.”

“Nah, he’s just some guy who follows me around,” Matt joked as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

“So, I know what movie we’re watching tomorrow,” you said excitedly.

Matt glanced at you, his smile widening at your enthusiasm. “Alright, hit me.”

“It’s called Return to Horror High,” you said, giggling, already anticipating his reaction.

“What the hell is that?” he laughed, and you shrugged.

“It’s a new movie at Newsman’s,” you explained, referring to the video store you two frequented.

“Alright, fine. We’ll watch your lame movie tomorrow, but next week, I’m picking,” he teased.

“Hey, don’t be mean!” you protested, laughing. “Return to Horror High could be good.”

“Yeah, sure,” Matt replied, giving you a knowing look before rolling his eyes with a smile.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you what happened to me today,” he said, breaking the silence.

“What happened?” you asked, curious.

“You know Sarah? Sarah Greene?”

You nodded, a twinge of distaste flickering across your face. Sarah Greene was the textbook definition of a popular cheerleader—blonde hair, blue eyes, and every boy’s dream girl.

“Well, she asked me out,” Matt said, shaking his head with a small laugh.

Your heart sank. Sarah Greene asked him out?

“What do you mean?” you asked, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Don’t sound so shocked, princess. Some people find me cute,” he said playfully, nudging your shoulder. His teasing didn’t ease the knot forming in your stomach.

“Anyway, she invited me to some party tomorrow night,” he added casually.

Your mind raced. How could he be so calm about this? Matt wasn’t exactly popular. When did she even notice him?

“Are you gonna go?” you asked hesitantly.

“Of course not! I have a date with Return to Horror High,” he said with a laugh, glancing at you. The smile on his face eased your worries.

“Are you sure?” you pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why would I go to some really awesome, cool party when I could be at your house watching a terrible horror movie?” he teased.

“Ew. Go to your stupid party, then,” you shot back, feigning offense.

Matt laughed. “Calm down, I’m just joking, princess. I’d rather stay with you any day. I don’t care about Sarah Greene,” he said, nudging your shoulder again. You smiled. “Alright,” you said softly, leaning back into your seat as he drove on.

It was Friday night. You had gotten a ride with a friend to Newman’s to rent a copy of Return to Horror High for your movie night with Matt. By the time you got home, movie in hand and snacks ready for the two of you, it was already around 8 p.m.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw your mom cooking at the stove. She glanced at you with a sympathetic look.

“Oh, hi, honey. Matt called while you were out,” she said gently. “He said he wasn’t going to make it tonight.”

You felt your heart sink. “How come?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Your mom shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

You nodded, the disappointment settling in as you quietly put the snacks away.

The rest of the night felt hollow. Friday nights were never something you spent alone, and now you had no idea how to fill the time. You tried painting your nails, fixing your hair, and even tidying up your already-clean room, but nothing seemed to distract you.

Hours passed, and eventually, you climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling. The thought lingered in your mind: Did Matt go out with Sarah?

Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was restless.

It was midnight when the sound of pebbles hitting your window stirred you awake. Groggily, you sat up, blinking at the darkness, and peeked outside. Matt stood below, arm poised to throw another pebble.

You opened the window, your curiosity laced with irritation.

“Matt!” you whisper-shouted. “What are you doing?”

He grinned up at you, lowering his arm in relief. “Thank God you’re up, princess.” He sighed dramatically. “Could you let me in?”

You stared at him, annoyed. “I don’t even know what time it is.”

“It’s like 12, I think,” he said sheepishly. “Please let me up. I promise I’ll explain everything.”

Rolling your eyes, you shut the window and crept downstairs to unlock the back door. Matt slipped inside quietly, and the two of you made your way back to your room.

Under the dim light, you finally got a good look at him. His lip was split, and a black eye was forming.

You gasped, stepping closer. “Matt, what happened to you?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gently placed his hand over your wrist. “It’s nothing, princess,” he tried to reassure you.

You shot him a skeptical look. “I don’t believe you.”

He sighed. “I promise—it’s fine. You should see the other guy,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Matt, I’m serious,” you said, your tone firm.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, wincing as he shifted his weight. “I was being stupid. Mike convinced me it was a good idea to go to Sarah’s party.”

Your chest tightened at his admission. You’d suspected that’s where he’d been, but hearing it still stung.

Matt caught the change in your expression. “It was a bright idea, huh?” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms.

“Look, princess, I’m really sorry I bailed. If I could take it back, I would,” he said earnestly, taking your hands in his

You glanced down, disappointment flickering across your face. When you looked back up, his blue eyes were searching yours.

“It’s fine. I’m over it,” you lied, pulling your hands away. “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

You walked to the bathroom, Matt following behind. He sat on the toilet seat while you gently cleaned his wounds.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” you asked softly.

He exhaled. “I don’t really know. One minute I was talking to Sarah with Mike, and the next, Sean and his guys showed up and started a fight.” He mentioned Sean, Sarah’s ex-boyfriend, with a slight wince.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

Matt noticed and nudged your arm lightly. “I deserve it, though. I shouldn’t have left you, princess. I’m sorry.” He took your hand in his, his voice sincere. “Can you forgive me?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t do it again.”

“Never,” he promised, smirking as he pulled you into a hug.

He lingered for a moment, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You know, you’re the only person I feel like I can come to,” he said softly.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “Even after ditching me?”

“Especially after ditching you,” he said with a small laugh. “I messed up. I always seem to mess up... but you’re always here for me.”

You shook your head with a smile. “That’s because I care, Matt. Even when you’re being an idiot.”

He chuckled, leaning his head back against the wall. “I don’t deserve you, princess.”

“Probably not,” you teased lightly, making him laugh again.

The room fell into a quiet stillness, the tension from earlier fading away. For a moment, it was just the two of you there, like nothing else mattered.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you think it’s too late to start Return to Horror High?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “It’s never too late for a terrible horror movie.”

He smiled, standing up and offering you his hand. “Let’s do it, then.”

With that, you led him back to your room, your disappointment fading as you realized that, in the end, Matt always found his way back to you.

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

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[lixies-favorite-cookie]

eat your words ◦ l.f

-in a spiral of whiskey-induced stupidity, you claim felix couldn't dominate you even if he tried—oh, how he's going to make you eat your words. 

Paring◦ First time dom!Lee Felix x sub!Reader

Words◦ 2290

Genre ◦ smut, porn with NO plot 😋

Warnings ◦ teasing, kissing, biting, felix being a cocky little shit, questionable dialogue, praise, clothes ripping, boob groping,the start of some fingering, uhhh I think that's it

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222 my little pookie wookie sweetie pie <33

A/N ◦ this was originally supposed to be super hard smut like the kinkiest sex known to man kind but then mid way through I found out I HATE writing smut 😃soooo you guys are getting the weird little build up I did to get to the actual smut part and I may or may not a million years in the future write a continuation very unlikely though I really hope I didn't disappoint anybody 🫶

~cookiecreates 🍪

“I don't think you can do it,” You shrug your shoulders, staring at your smirking reflection swirling in the amber glass. His face shifts, a brow lifting ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable, but the way his eyes harden into a sharp, dangerous gaze isn't—challenging, testing irises narrowing like a predator stalking its prey. It was an odd metaphor, sure, but the way he gripped his cup in his hands, squeezing until his flesh turned white, made you tremble both in anticipation and terror, it was the type of fear that made your brain fog and your heart pound, and as the warm whiskey sloshed against the rim of the cup, you could have sworn; you saw the glass bend.

Humans are complicated structures like thick, vibrant layers of dried paint, but when you chip us into the rawest form of art, the naked easel, we are straightforward creatures, and sometimes all you need to do is prod the right places to get there.

“I don't think you can be dominant,” you smile against the edge of your drink, tipping the rest of the liquid back. Maybe it was the whiskey that made you lie or the almost intrinsic need to feel his hands digging into your hips, but either way, your mouth seemed to move without your mind's consent, and right now your vagina didn't care which one it was.

“And why's that?" He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his lips quirking in a devilish grin. He cocks his head to the side, almost daring you to answer like either way; your words will be wrong. You squeeze your folded thighs in some feeble form to ease the tension that pulses between your legs, clit begging for his attention, longing for his touch, your needy, needy for him.

“You're so…” You tip your cup, a finger lightly teasing the rim, your eyes wander, toying with his patience. You act so nonchalant, so sure in your statement in the way you bounce the glass around as if you couldn't be bothered by the potential consequences of your actions, but little did he know lust smells like whiskey and wine—a rich sort of tang, and as you taste the words on your tongue, the thought of sex has never sounded so-

“Sweet,” your gaze lands on him in all his taut glory, annoyance pulsating off of him in waves. His back is tense against the chair as he folds his arms, both making his black dress shirt hug his chest and sinch around his biceps. He has never looked so alluring, so delectable, so tempting. He sucks his teeth, tongue pressing against his cheek.

“You know, I'm going to make you eat your words,” he states confidently, stretching his arms on the top of the chair, spreading his legs apart, flaunting his growing bulge. Saliva pools in your mouth, the only thing keeping you from drooling is the way you press your lips together, blinking back the waves of arousal that soak your panties.

"Well, what are you waiting for?” he beckons you with two fingers before promptly gesturing to his lap. “Don't tell me you're having second thoughts already.” You hop up from your chair, tossing your drained glass onto the bar beside you; practically tripping to sit on his lap.

"Someone's eager,” he smirks, wrapping thick fingers around the colom of your neck, smashing your lips together. You gasp into the kiss, pleasantly surprised by his greedy movements; palms moving impatiently across your skin.

“I want everything off,” you nod, matching his fervent fingers—fighting to unbutton your blouse—and instead of doing what any normal, sane person would do in a situation like this, asking you to unbutton it, he simply rips the fabric apart, literally tearing it off your person like a flimsy piece of wood. Your jaw drops as the buttons clatter to the floor.

"Felix,” you start, but his feverish mouth stops you. “It was in the way,” he snarls, unclasping the back of your bra. “You better buy me another one." You breathe, pulling away, but his hand laces in your hair, bringing you back. “You have my card, darling, buy 10." There's nothing more sexy than using somebody else's money and knowing it won't hurt their bank account a bit.

“Oh, baby, you really know how to talk dirty to me." Your snarky words quickly fizz out into a breathy moan when he forces your hips down, rubbing your clit against his hardened bulge. His kisses are frenzied, an almost desperate passion bubbling beneath the surface of all those harsh words and dead buttons lying idly on the floor.

“Are you 100% sure you want to test this theory, love, 'cause once I start,” his teeth scrape across the fragile flesh of your lip. “I don't think I could stop,” he growls, dragging his palms up your naked waist to knead your tits. A shaky sigh tumbles from your throat, feeling the friction of his calloused hands on your nipples.

“Then don't,” you gasp, caught in this perceptual state of euphoria. Your sentences are exchanged through steaming kisses, not seeing the reason to pull away or breathe, for that matter—why would you need oxygen when you're sitting on Lee Fucking Felix's lap?

His mouth turns hesitant as his thighs tense beneath you like he wants to lift you up, but his morals are stopping him. He sighs, pulling away from your lips, which you whine at, missing his heat.

“I ethically can't carry out all the things I'm thinking about doing to you without your full and complete consent.” Your heart swells with warmth at his caring gesture to get your permission.

“Yes, Felix, you have my consent to do-” You lean in to gasp the words on his lips, “Anything to me, now please,” you beg pathetically, "Make me eat my words.” That was all he needed to hoist you up and chuck you on the bed like a paper doll, completely weightless, fluttering into the sheets.

You squeal, his gaze setting fire to your soul, scorching lines as he lingers over the soft ridges of your chest, drifting down into your clothed cunt. You can almost feel him ripping off your thong. He leers at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling apart every single solitary button with provoking patience. He was purely evil for taking so long to do such a simple task, especially when your shirt lays deceased somewhere in shreds on the bedroom floor.

"You know Felix. How would my shirt think seeing its distant cousin being so carefully treated?” You meant it as a joke, but apparently, Felix wasn't really in the mood for jokes. The way he wildly yanks your ankles towards him crawling over you with a half-unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, only giving you a peak into his chiseled frame.

"That fucking mouth." He cages you onto the bed, engulfing you with his body. “That fucking mouth is going to get you into a lot of trouble, baby." His voice is a low rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest. It sends pings of pleasure rushing up your spine.

"All the things I should do to you." He drags his lips down your jawline, peppering light kisses across your neck. “For that comment,” he nips that sensitive spot just beneath the bone, pulling a pathetic whimper out of you. “I'm going to make you suffer.” his actions are a complete contraindication to his aggravated tone; soft, gentle pecks that feel like wildfire raging through your muscles. His lips are light on the sweet spots of your skin, “I'm going to tease you until it feels like you can't take it anymore,” he ghosts his mouth over your flesh, hot breath blazing bliss through your bones. 

"I" 

Kiss 

"Could" 

Kiss 

"Do" 

Kiss 

"This" 

Kiss 

"All" 

Kiss 

"Night-" 

You quiver as his finger caresses the collar of your shirt, dragging it  ever-

So

Slightly

Down

Tension thrums through the room as your clit throbs for his touch. You just want to shove his face into your cunt and let his wandering tongue toy with the delicate bud and not the collarbone he's teasing with his teeth.

“I could tease you for hours, dragging my lips across your skin,” he's acting out everything he says like some sick, twisted play, “How long do you think you would last?” Not very fuckin' long, you know that for sure, the way his wandering hands seem to graze every stretch of skin at an excruciatingly steady pace and yet skirting right across the spots where you yearn for him the most. “I touch you in every place-” He drags his finger up the length of your waist, drifting between the valley of your breasts, just to stroke soft circles around your nipple, avoiding the sensitive skin in-between. He leans into your ear, fanning hot, sultry breaths across your cheek. Your body erupts in goosebumps as his voice drops in tone. “You don't want me." You squeeze your eyes shut, breath hitching in your throat; you're genuinely convinced you're going to die, combusting into a million bursting burning flames. There was a configuration on your skin, and the only way to put it out was Felix's face between your thighs; as if he could read your mind, he drifts downward, crawling back on the bed.

He drops to his knees in front of you, still seeming so powerful in his submissive stance, and when he lifts your ankle to his lips, you realize he's teasing you even on the floor with glassy half-lidded eyes blown wide with lust. His mouth was carrassesing the ball of your anckle; tongue, tracing the line of your calf. It was such a passionate form of pain, the way his teeth dug into your flesh only for his tongue to soothe the ache.

Your head tilted backward, spinning in the way he worshipped you, his tongue telling you words his brain couldn't quite convey. It was oddly intimate, especially as his lips brushed the swell of your thighs, whispering secret promises on your skin. It felt like time had cracked—trickling into an absent form of nothingness. You tremble beneath the possessive pads of his hands, holding your bucking hips down.

“Please” you whine, frustrated tears forming pools in your lash line. He's so brutal yet so beautiful, all at the same time; It reminded you of some sort of twisted poetry, a sensual paradox, living under the laws of juxtaposition—the vulgar words melted into the page, twisting and turning into your deepest dirtiest fantasies; no matter how sinful the words seemed to be, they always sprouted into something stunning like a blackened rose or a burning butterfly. You can't help but admire the way their wings flutter off, glowing like a dying star, flaring its final goodbye—soft hues of a bold, blazing blue before slowly being snuffed out.

(cookies interuptions: i dont know how i felt about that 😖)

Your stomach soared as your lashes stuttered shut, eyes rolling in the back of your head as he probs the muscle of your hip with his tongue, not before promptly dragging his teeth across the bone.

"Felix," You whine, squeezing the sheets beneath your palms,

“This was what you wanted, yeah?” His voice feels like fire on your skin.

“No."

“No?” he mocks, pouting in some sick form of sympathy.

“No!” You whip your head around violently, slamming your fists onto the bed. Your frustration must have sparked a loose wire in your head, making you a little bit wild and a lot a bit stupid. He grabs your face, roughly squeezing the flesh of your cheeks. His eyes narrow in a stern gaze.

“Don't test me." He snaps, digging his fingers harder, forcing your lips into a pitiful pout. “You started this love,” he says, dropping his hand to trace a finger over the curve of your lip. “Don't get upset when it doesn't go the way you planned.”

He draws patterns on your skin, blazing a bitter path from your lips down the curve of your jaw, dripping into the valley of your breasts. You pant, breath stuttering in your throat.

"What did you think was going to happen, love, with that snarky little mouth of yours?” He creeps lower. “You want me to touch you?” he whispers, sadistically inching two fingers closer to your clenching core. His voice was like molten cream trickling down his trachea.

"Prove to me you can listen.” His hand dips into your panties “Prove to me you can be a good girl.” You sigh, body buzzing with anticipation. It felt like the planets were finally aligning in a swelling earth-shattering symphony, and as he sank into the bed, creeping his face closer to your throbbing core, you clench your eyelids closed, muscles rigid with suspense. He tisks, tilting your head forward.

"Look at me, love” His lips dust over your clothed clit  “Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

You moan, both at his words and how he licks a hot, wet stripe up your concealed entrance; reluctantly, you tilt your head up, positioning yourself over the stacked pillows so you won't droop.

“That's my girl." His eyes were heavy with lust, like drops of honey swimming in pools of ink; the way his pupils took control of his usually sunny aura, dominance seemed to transform him. He was like a burning butterfly confined in a chrysalis too long, and even with his wings fluttering off, he knew he was going to make the most of the time while they were still attached to his skin. 

Oh, how he was going to make you eat your words.

©CookieCreates (posted: July, 4th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

may y/ns shirt rest in peace

let us all mourn 😞

~cookiecreates 🍪

[jaylaxies]

MEMORIES BRING BACK YOU

PAIRING: ex boyfriend!jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, themes of jealousy, obsession, stalking, drinking, breeding, usage of nicknames.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k words

SYNOPSIS: You were just about to head to sleep when you head loud knocking on your door. Turns out, it’s your drunk ex boyfriend who claims he misses you.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: omg hihi, it’s my first time writing about jaemin! i hope you guys enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

It was nearing midnight when you decided to close your books. Your eyelids automatically pressed shut to find tranquillity as you had spent the entirety of your evening studying when you could have easily gone out to Johnny’s party for the night, especially when you had no tests coming up for two weeks straight. 

A sigh left your mouth as you got up, changing into your most comfortable pair of shorts along with a skimpy top, which suited to be the best outfit for you while you slept. 

It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid your friends or the party, it was rather that you were trying to avoid a certain black haired guy, who’s dazzling smile stood out in the crowd. 

It was none other than Na Jaemin, the guy you’ve been trying to avoid all month, especially because he kissed a random girl while being in a relationship with you. He’s been trying to apologize ever since, but you weren’t one to take his excuses. 

“I thought it was you,” he had said. 

Your jaw clenched as you remembered the whole scenario, your broken heart and endless tears. But what made it worse was the fact that you still wanted him, you missed him, and that’s the reason why you avoided being at the same places as him, which also included tonight’s party. 

With a sigh, you tied your hair in a loose ponytail, almost getting into your bed before you heard loud banging on your front door. The noise was enough to galvanize you as you jumped slightly, your hand coming to rest on the top of your chest in an attempt to calm your fast beating heart. 

Who would come this late at night?

You hurried to check it out, looking out of the peephole to find a very disoriented and drunk Jaemin, who was mumbling something which was inaudible to you before he raised his voice. 

“Open up, angel,” he spoke, “let me in, you know you’re still fucking mine. You belong to me.” 

You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your feelings yet even you couldn’t deny how your skin shivered when he called you his. You didn’t know whether to open the door or not. 

But you did know that you didn’t want your neighbours to hear Jaemin. 

Hesitantly, you opened the door which was a successful attempt to make him stop shouting. His grin widened when he saw you, eyebrows raising once his eyes took you in from head to toe. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You asked, agitated. 

“I missed you, kitten,” he whispered. 

It would have been a sweet thing to say if he said it when he was sober, but his current situation didn’t make things better, especially when you noticed the switch in his expression. Lust took over his senses. 

“Jaemin, you should go home,” you said, voice softer for him to understand. 

He chuckled, it almost sounded sinister. He looked sinister with his messy hair falling over his eyes, his glossy lips turned up in a smile, his shirt which was halfway unbuttoned, revealing his torso and showing the slightest bit of his defined abs. 

“Why would I go home when you’re here, kitten?” He asked, stepping closer and also shutting the door in the process, “you know I love you, right?”

It was bad enough that you were anticipating it, and then it got worse when your heart fluttered at his confession. You wish you had one bit of self respect for yourself, you thought you did, but it was quick to fly out of the window as soon as Jaemin turned up at your door. 

He took another step closer and your body felt weak, “I know you won’t let a little mistake get in between us,” he cradled your face. 

Your body shivered with the proximity. He smelled of alcohol mixed with the scent of his musky yet lightweight perfume. It was intoxicating. 

“Jaem—” you tried to say but he cut you off. 

“That’s not what my kitten calls me,” he whispers, nose touching yours. 

You gulped, knees feeling weaker by second, “nana,” you let out softly, causing his smile to grow. 

“That’s right, that’s my good girl,” he praised and you swore his voice sounded even more sensual whenever he whispered. 

Your mind had blanked out, the only things you could still register were Jaemin and his voice. However, you tried to convince him with the littlest sanity left inside you, “nana,” you said, “it’s too late, maybe you should go home and get some rest, yeah?” 

That seemed to have angered Jaemin because he grabbed your nape and pulled you even closer to him, lips almost touching. 

“Are you trying to make me leave, kitten? Aren’t you happy to see me?” He asked, exasperated. 

“Of course, I’m happy—” 

“So why are you doing this? Do you have someone else now? I’ll fucking kill them.” Your eyes widened at his statement, his tone even deeper now. 

“Oh my god, no! That’s not it,” you tried to say. 

He scoffed, “I fucking saw Haechan leave your house two days back, are you fucking him now?” He raised his brows, almost like a challenge. 

That was enough to bring you back to your senses. Even though you did not fuck around with Hyuck, it wasn’t any of Jaemin’s business to be lurking around your place. 

He was stalking you. 

“Why do you care? Are you a stalker now?” You raised your voice for the first time. 

“Because you’re fucking mine, kitten,” he growled, turning you around and pushing you against the door. 

His plush lips were quick to be pressed against yours, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine but you didn’t kiss him back. 

With his fingers gripping your waist harder, he pushed his knee in between your legs and your thin shorts barely acted as a barrier between his rough jeans and your cunt. 

A gasp left your mouth, which just provided him with the perfect opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. He tasted like raspberry and beer mixed together, you tried to keep your walls up but it was beyond you how this guy managed to make you swoon over him despite fucking everything up. 

Slowly, you gave in as your body worked on its own accord, rubbing on his knee while your lips whispered out his name before kissing him back with equal intensity, as if you were transferring all your frustrations into him. 

He only smirked, trailing his soft lips down your neck, “I’m gonna have to mark you up, kitten. I need to teach you who you belong to,” he murmured against your weak spot, right below your jaw. 

He had your body memorized, his fingers tracing your nipples in circles through your skimpy top, which again, provided you with no help as you could feel his warm fingers too distinctly. 

“Jump,” he commanded, tapping your thighs twice as he picked you up effortlessly and walked towards your bedroom, continuing to ruin your neck as he sucked it strong enough for purple marks to appear. 

Your breath was shaky, your whole body was in his control as he took you to your bed, getting on top of you with his devilish smirk, his lips glistening more than ever as he kissed you, a string of saliva connected your mouth when he leaned back and diverted his attention to your shorts. 

“Seems like you were waiting for me, kitten. Why else would you dress up like this, huh?” He asked, his voice almost innocent despite his words, and actions. 

He proceeded to grab the upper portion of your top, your eyes widening as he tore it open, not wasting a second in taking your tits in his mouth. You rubbed your thighs together, wetness pooling down your shorts as you were devoid of panties, just how he liked it. 

“Did you fuck yourself with that filthy toy of yours when you missed me?” He asked, his hand coming down to cup your clothed wetness.

“Nana,” you whimpered, body heating up as your eyes teared up with pleasure. You had missed him so much. 

It was embarrassing how he knew exactly what you did, using a dildo to replace his huge cock, trying to feel something but you couldn’t. Nothing compared to his cock. 

“Did it make you cum?” He asked, jaw clenched as wrapped his fingers around your neck, your eyes almost closed shut with how your body shuddered. 

“No,” you whispered, bucking up your hips to meet his palm pathetically. 

“That’s right. Now tell me who makes you cum, kitten?” His voice sounded like pure melody, he talked to you as if you were a baby. 

“Nana makes me cum s—so hard!” You whimpered, how smirk growing. 

That’s all it took for him to rip open your shorts too, your eyes widening as you saw his sleeves tightening with his muscles flexing. 

He was so hot. 

You didn’t get a chance to mourn for your destroyed clothes as he pushed his two digits right into your cunt, knowing that you’ll easily take him in with your dripping wetness. 

He was right. 

Your back arched as the room seemed hazy to you, covered with the thick mist of your sinful activities. Your walls clenched, taking his fingers in deeper as you ached for more of him. All of him. 

“No bra, no panties,” he said, “just how I like it,” he whispered right in your ear as his hand started to pump in you at a faster pace. 

He didn’t stop, muttering the filthiest things in your ear. Something about Jaemin being fully dressed while you were fully naked in front of him felt hot to you. He treated you like a doll. 

You whined, stuttering midway at the feeling of your walls squeezing him in, his chuckle only sending you into a frenzy. You were so gone when it came to him. 

“I can’t—” you whined, feeling heat pool up in your abdomen. 

He chuckled, “not so fast, kitten.”

You took a deep breath, excitement filling up your veins as you saw him remove his clothes, unbutton his shirt to reveal his abs, and unbuckling his belt to get rid of his pants. 

You groaned, almost shuddering when you saw his hardened cock, tip angry and leaking as he caught the sight of your wet slit again. 

“Nana’s gonna make you cum on his cock,” he grinned. 

You looked so innocent to him, desperate for his cock, his touch. Desperate for him. He got on top of you yet again, his hand smoothly taking off your scrunchie, letting your hair free. 

“My pretty kitten,” he whispered, successfully capturing all your attention, which was on his face. 

It was a given that you didn’t think about the fact that he was going to slam his dick into you so hard that you’d dig your nails into his shoulders, only making him smirk wider. 

“So, wet for me,” he bottomed out, thrusting in yet again, hitting your g-spot, as you barely could utter a word, “I knew it, you can’t stay without me, not when you want my cock shoved into you every twenty four hours,” he increased his force, the bed slightly shaking at his intense pace. 

The noise of his balls smacking your ass reverberated all over the room as you bit your lip to contain the lewd moans which threatened to escape. He knew your high was near with how your stomach tightened. 

He kept his hand on your lower abdomen, getting a feel of how deep his cock is inside you and how your stomach feels so full when he thrusts into you. You could basically see his imprint on your skin. 

“Kitten loves it when Nana fucks his babies into her, doesn’t she?” He whispered, kissing a tear on your cheek. 

You loved it. 

“Say it,” he urged you, eyes demanding. 

“I want your babies in me,” you said, voice shaky as he never once stopped thrusting into you. 

“That’s my good girl,” he said, his smile turning angelic for just a second before he started ramming his cock into you. 

You screamed and moaned, throat hurting as you blacked out for a second, reaching your high as you felt his warm liquid coating your walls, filling you up with a few more thrusts before he held you in his arms, sitting up. 

“I knew you had missed me too, kitten,” he smiled. 

“Guess we’ll be together forever.” 

THANK YOU FOR READING

TAGGING: @ddeonuism @celeste-hoon @en-myworld @jayzdaze @robyn-core

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 19 *

word count: 10.6k

woooah! here's a long one. excuse me for any grammar/plot inconsistencies.... i don't ever check because i like pumpin these parts out asap!! enjoy though! thanks for all the patience and all the kind words in my inbox <33

Aspen's eyes fluttered open, the faint scent of Harry lingering in the air around her, warm and comforting. A small yawn escaped her lips as she stretched, her arms reaching above her head before curling back into herself beneath the covers. Her gaze lazily swept the room, only then noticing Harry wasn't beside her.

The faint hum of the shower reached her ears, accompanied by the occasional clink of water droplets hitting the tiles. It was soothing, a reminder of the intimacy they'd shared the night before. Aspen's cheeks heated as fragmented memories flashed in her mind—Harry's lips on her skin, his whispered praises, the way he'd cared for her so gently afterward. She pulled the blanket higher over her face, trying to smother the bashful grin that refused to leave her lips.

Shifting slightly, she became aware of the soft fabric against her skin. Glancing down, Aspen realized she was dressed in nothing but her panties and one of Harry's shirts, the hem of which rested just below her hips. Her heart gave a little flutter at the sight, the scent of him clinging faintly to the material. Her dress and cardigan were neatly folded on Harry's dresser, a sweet gesture that didn't surprise her but warmed her heart nonetheless.

She sighed contentedly and nestled back into the pillow, a faint smile tugging at her lips as her thoughts drifted to him. She didn't realize how lost in her musings she was until the sound of the shower shutting off broke through her reverie. The familiar rasp of the metal rings as the curtain was drawn back sent a ripple of anticipation through her, and she bit her lip, burying her face in the pillow again to hide her expression even though Harry wasn't yet in the room.

The door creaked open moments later, and Aspen peeked out just in time to see Harry emerge. Her breath caught slightly as her eyes landed on him. A towel hung low on his hips, water droplets trailing down his toned torso. His damp curls clung to his forehead, and a crooked smile lit up his face when he noticed her watching.

"G'morning, sugar," he greeted, his voice warm and slightly teasing as he padded over to her.

Aspen managed a shy smile, her heart fluttering wildly as Harry came to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. Before she could say anything, he leaned closer, shaking his wet hair over her playfully. A few droplets of water sprinkled onto her face, making her squeal and pull the blanket over her head.

"Harry!" she protested, her voice muffled beneath the covers, though she couldn't suppress the giggle that followed.

Harry chuckled, pulling the blanket down just enough to reveal her flushed face. "There she is," he murmured, leaning down to press a series of soft, lingering kisses to her lips. Each one drew another giggle from her, her hands instinctively reaching to rest on his damp shoulders.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb gently brushed her cheek. "Did you sleep okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine care.

Aspen nodded, her smile still lingering. "Yeah. Really well, actually."

"Good," he said, brushing a stray curl away from her face before sitting back slightly. "Hey, did'ya hear about Niall's party tonight? He's hosting at his place."

Aspen blinked, shaking her head slightly. "No, I didn't. Are you thinking of going?"

Harry shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "Only 'f y'want to. It's up to you, sugar. I don't have t'go if you don't feel like it."

The sincerity in his tone made Aspen's chest tighten in the best way. She knew how much Harry's friends meant to him, and the fact that he was willing to forgo the party for her made her heart swell. Smiling softly, she tilted her head. "Would Isobel and Zayn be there?"

"Probably," Harry said with a chuckle. "I can check if you want."

Aspen considered it for a moment before nodding. "Okay. It could be fun," she said, her voice soft but genuine. "As long as you're with me."

Harry's grin widened, and he leaned down to steal another quick kiss. "Always," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers before he pulled back to grab his phone. "I'll let Niall know we're coming."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Aspen shut the door to her bedroom with a soft click, the sound echoing louder than she expected in the quiet apartment. Isobel was still at Zayn's, and the silence felt both comforting and oddly exposing. She turned the lock and tested the handle to ensure it was secure before leaning against the door, her heart thudding in her chest for reasons she couldn't quite admit aloud.

On her bed sat a small brown package, innocuous to anyone else but holding a secret that made her cheeks burn. She approached it hesitantly, her fingers brushing the edges of the box as she sat cross-legged on her comforter. For a moment, she simply stared at it, as if opening it would set off alarms to announce her intentions to the world.

A deep breath later, Aspen dug her nails into the tape sealing the box and pulled it open, careful not to tear the cardboard too much. Inside, nestled in discreet tissue paper, was the item she had been waiting on—a purple sparkly dildo, smaller than most she had seen online, chosen with care for her specific purpose. She hesitated before lifting it from its packaging, her hands trembling slightly as she turned it over in the light.

Her face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, and she instinctively glanced around the room despite knowing she was alone. It wasn't embarrassment exactly, but something more tender—a shyness born of inexperience and the secret vulnerability of preparing for something so deeply intimate.

Aspen's thoughts drifted to Harry, and her heart fluttered in her chest. She had been thinking about this moment for weeks, her curiosity and desire growing alongside her feelings for him. Last night had solidified it in her mind—he had been so attentive, so utterly devoted to her pleasure, and she wanted to do the same for him. Not just out of obligation, but because the thought of making him feel the way he made her feel sent a warm shiver through her body.

Still, the idea of her lack of experience made her stomach twist in knots. What if she wasn't good at it? What if she made it awkward? She hated the idea of fumbling through something so meaningful, especially when it came to Harry. The thought of his face, his groans, the way his lips parted when he let himself feel—she wanted to see that again, to be the reason for it.

That was why she had ordered this. Not to use for herself, but to practice. She could barely even think the word without her face heating up, but she knew it was the truth. The small toy felt manageable, like a stepping stone toward learning how to please Harry in the way she wanted to. She bit her lip, her thumb brushing over the smooth, glittery surface as she set it on the bed beside her.

Her mind buzzed with anticipation and nervous energy as she considered what to do next. There was a part of her that wanted to chicken out, to shove the box under her bed and never think about it again. But then she thought of Harry—the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the low timbre of his voice when he murmured her name, the way he'd kissed her so reverently the night before. He was worth overcoming her hesitation.

With a shaky exhale, Aspen stood and moved to her desk, grabbing a small bottle of lubricant she had also ordered for this very moment. The act of preparing made her feel bold and a little self-conscious all at once. She set everything neatly on the bed before climbing back onto the mattress, crossing her legs beneath her and staring down at the items as if willing them to guide her.

She whispered to herself, "Okay, you can do this," though her voice was barely audible in the empty room. A tentative smile crept onto her lips as she picked up the toy again, her fingers curling around its base. This wasn't just about learning or practicing—it was about the quiet excitement of imagining Harry's pleasure, of knowing she could give him something meaningful in return for the tenderness he had shown her. And that thought alone was enough to make her heart race.

Aspen had about four hours before Harry would come pick her up, and one of those hours she would reserve to get ready. With three hours to spare, she figured that was plenty of time to get her practice in. It wasn't like he expected her to do this for him, and not once did he ask her for anything in return from the previous night. This was something Aspen set out to do on her own.

With the toy in her shy hands, she walked to her bathroom. She washed and dried the toy delicately and giggled to herself with red cheeks at how it just... stuck to the counter. The girl removed the toy to stick it onto the ledge of her bathtub. She figured it would be better to not hold it, since Harry's was, well, stuck on him.

Intimidation flooded her chest to accompany the slight shy and embarrassment as she stared at the toy. It was no more than six inches, maybe five, she spent less than five minutes on Amazon alone while she tried to scramble out of it. The girl slipped onto her knees in front of the toy and brushed her hair behind her ears. Still in Harry's shirt and a pair of shorts she found in her tote bag, her fingers nervously stretched the hem of the shirt. 

No one is here, she thought to herself to calm down. The girl set her phone down on the ledge, clicking play on some random short video she found. With a hot face and nervous hands, she watched the video at least three times before she wiggled closer and tucked her hair back once again. 

Aspen's heart was racing as she sat back on her heels, staring at the toy stuck firmly to the edge of the tub. Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted Harry's shirt on her shoulders, the familiar fabric bringing a strange sense of comfort. The video had been helpful—at least, it gave her some idea of what to do—but actually putting it into practice felt entirely different.

The toy gleamed under the bathroom light, the sparkles catching her eye as if teasing her for her hesitation. She bit her lip, her mind flashing back to Harry's hands on her, his mouth, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. That memory alone gave her the push she needed. She wasn't doing this for herself—this was for him, for the look she knew she'd get when she finally showed him how much she cared in her own way.

With a deep breath, Aspen leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the base of the toy. Her grip was unsure at first, her fingers flexing against the smooth surface as she tried to mimic what she had seen. It felt strange—foreign, even—but she reminded herself that this was exactly why she was practicing. Her gaze flickered to the video still playing on her phone, the soft, instructive voice guiding her as she adjusted her hand to a more comfortable position.

She brought her lips close to the tip, her face heating as she hesitated. The idea of doing this for Harry, of having him look at her with that mix of awe and affection, sent a warm shiver through her. Slowly, she let her lips part, pressing a tentative kiss to the tip before sliding her mouth over it just slightly. The feeling was odd but not unpleasant, and she pulled back almost immediately, her cheeks burning.

"Okay, Aspen," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the video. "You've got this. Just... take it slow."

She leaned in again, her lips wrapping more firmly around the toy this time. Aspen tried to remember the rhythm and movements she had seen, moving her hand in time with her mouth as she took it in a little farther. Her tongue brushed against the surface, and she focused on maintaining a steady pace. The motions felt awkward at first, but she kept going, determined to make it feel natural.

Her thoughts strayed to Harry again—his voice, his laugh, the way he called her "sugar" with that teasing lilt. It made her smile despite herself, and she realized she was beginning to relax. She adjusted her grip slightly, testing what felt comfortable for her as she moved her mouth up and down the length of the toy.

As she grew more confident, Aspen pushed herself to take it deeper. The first attempt was met with resistance, and she pulled back quickly with a small cough, her eyes widening in surprise. "Okay," she muttered, her cheeks flushed. "Noted."

She took a moment to collect herself, running her fingers over the base of the toy as she caught her breath. This wasn't easy, but she didn't expect it to be. What mattered was that she was trying, and she couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride for even attempting this in the first place.

Aspen brushed her hair back again, her fingers steadying themselves as she glanced at the toy. The brief setback hadn't discouraged her—it was all part of the process, she told herself. After a few deep breaths, she leaned in once more, determined to improve. This time, she focused on keeping her movements slow and deliberate, experimenting with how far she could go while maintaining a comfortable rhythm.

Her lips wrapped around the toy, gliding down the length with a bit more ease. The motions began to feel smoother, less awkward, as she found a rhythm that worked. Each time she pushed herself to take it deeper, she would pause to adjust, her mind focused on breathing steadily through her nose and relaxing her jaw. The initial nerves faded bit by bit, replaced by a quiet determination. Aspen imagined Harry watching her, the thought sending a wave of warmth through her. Would he be proud of her for trying this? She hoped so.

After a few more rounds, she pulled back, sitting up on her knees as she wiped at her lips with the back of her hand. Her chest rose and fell with her measured breathing, and she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than when she started.

Her eyes flickered to the bottle of lube she had grabbed earlier, and an idea clicked in her mind. She'd read somewhere that using just spit wasn't ideal for making things comfortable. A little extra help couldn't hurt, and it would give her a chance to practice with her hands as well. With that thought, Aspen uncapped the bottle, squeezing a small amount onto her palm.

The cool, slick sensation made her fingers tingle as she rubbed the lube between her hands. She hesitated for only a moment before wrapping her hand around the base of the toy, gliding her fingers along its length experimentally. The lube made the movements smooth and effortless, and she nodded in approval to herself. "That's definitely better," she muttered.

She practiced moving her hand up and down, twisting slightly at the top as she had seen in a few videos and read in advice threads. The slickness made the motions feel more natural, and Aspen began to alternate between using one hand and adding the other for different techniques. Her cheeks were flushed, but there was a hint of pride in her expression as she focused on getting it right.

As she worked, her thoughts drifted back to Harry, imagining his reaction. She wanted to surprise him, to show him that she could give him as much care and attention as he had given her. The thought of his soft praises, the way he always made her feel safe and adored, spurred her on.

By the time she set the toy down, her hands slightly sticky with the remnants of the lube, Aspen felt a new wave of confidence. She still had a lot to learn, but she was making progress—and that was enough for now.Aspen was still kneeling on the bathroom floor, her hands gliding up and down the toy with practiced motions, her face a little less red as she became more confident in what she was doing. She was so focused that she almost didn't hear the front door open—or the unmistakable sound of Isobel's cheerful voice calling out, "Aspen! I'm back!"

Her heart leaped into her throat. Panic surged through her, and her hands froze mid-motion. "Crap, crap, crap," she whispered, fumbling with the toy as she tried to think of where to put everything. She quickly grabbed the toy and the bottle of lube, shoving them under the sink. Her fingers trembled as she wiped at the countertop with a nearby towel, trying to erase any evidence of what she had been doing.

She turned on the faucet, frantically scrubbing her hands and splashing cold water on her flushed face to cool it down. But then her eyes widened as she remembered the box and the packaging still sitting on her bed. "Oh, no," she whispered, darting out of the bathroom.

Just as Isobel's footsteps echoed closer, Aspen grabbed the box and kicked it under the bed with a hurried nudge of her foot. She spun around just in time to see her bedroom door swing open, her heart racing as she plastered a casual smile on her face.

"There you are!" Isobel beamed, stepping inside and flopping onto Aspen's bed without hesitation. "I thought you'd still be sleeping or something. Zayn's place is crazy right now, so I figured I'd escape and come bother you."

Aspen forced a laugh, hoping her flushed face wouldn't give her away. She nervously tugged at the hem of her shirt, her mind racing. "Oh, um, no. I've just been... cleaning up a bit," she said, glancing toward the bathroom door as if double-checking that nothing was left out.

Isobel didn't seem to notice Aspen's odd behavior. She stretched out on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge as she grinned up at her friend. "So, about tonight... Are we going to Niall's party? Zayn says it's going to be packed, and I heard there's going to be karaoke again. You have to come, Aspen."

Still trying to calm the frantic beat of her heart, Aspen sat on the edge of the bed and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I'm going. Harry mentioned it earlier, so... I guess we'll both be there."

Isobel's face lit up. "Perfect! I can't wait to see you two being cute and couple-y. Honestly, it's kind of sickening how adorable you are." She smirked, poking Aspen's arm playfully. "What are you wearing? You have to look amazing."

Aspen chuckled softly, the tension in her chest easing slightly as she realized Isobel wasn't suspicious. "I haven't decided yet. Something simple, probably."

"Simple doesn't cut it, babe," Isobel teased, sitting up and pulling Aspen into a half-hug. "We're going to make you look like a goddess tonight. Harry won't be able to keep his hands off you."

Aspen's cheeks flushed again, but this time, it wasn't from embarrassment over what she had been doing earlier. She let herself relax as she and Isobel began to chat about outfits, hairstyles, and what they thought the night would bring.

Aspen turned in front of her full-length mirror, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. Isobel stood behind her, beaming with pride as she admired her work.

"You look so good, Aspen," Isobel said, clasping her hands together as if she'd just unveiled a masterpiece. "Harry's going to lose his mind when he sees you. Trust me."

Aspen bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed as she took in her reflection. The leopard print micro shorts sat snugly on her hips, showing more skin than she was used to, and the black top clung to her figure in a way that made her hyper-aware of every curve. The sheer material revealed hints of her dark red bra, especially when she moved under the light, and Isobel had made sure she wore a push-up bra that emphasized her chest more than she was used to. The knee-high boots added an edge to her look, and her hair—loose, shiny, and with its natural blowout volume—cascaded around her shoulders.

Her makeup was darker than usual: smoky liner that brought out the green flecks in her hazel eyes and a deep, muted red lip that balanced sultry with understated. It wasn't too far from her natural style, but it was definitely bolder than what she normally wore.

"Are you sure about this?" Aspen asked, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. "I mean... I don't know if it's really me."

Isobel rolled her eyes dramatically and swatted Aspen's hand away. "Stop doubting yourself! You look hot. Like, seriously hot. And it's a party, Aspen—it's supposed to be fun. Besides, you deserve to feel confident and sexy for once. Harry's going to eat you alive."

Aspen groaned softly but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Isobel's confidence was infectious. "Okay, okay. But if anyone stares too much, I'm blaming you."

"Let them stare!" Isobel declared, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You're a goddess tonight, and everyone should know it."

Aspen laughed nervously, grabbing her small black crossbody bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "All right, let's go before I change my mind."

When Harry arrived to pick Aspen up, the last thing he expected was to be rendered speechless on her doorstep. His usual laid-back confidence wavered the second his eyes landed on her. She looked... stunning. The kind of stunning that didn't just catch his attention but made his chest tighten and his thoughts scatter.

His gaze swept over her from head to toe, lingering on the daring leopard print shorts that showed off her legs and the way the black top hugged her figure in ways that made it impossible to look away. The subtle flash of red from her bra beneath the sheer fabric sent a warmth up his neck, though he quickly fought it back, not wanting to seem like he was ogling her.

Harry, standing there in his dark grey long sleeve shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves casually rolled up to reveal his tattoos, shifted on his boots. His flannel was slung loosely around his waist, the contrast between his rugged appearance and her bold elegance somehow fitting. But for once, he felt like he was the one trying to keep up.

He swallowed hard, realizing he hadn't said a word. "Wow," he finally breathed, his voice unintentionally dropping an octave. "You look... incredible." His words hung heavy with honesty, his eyes still glued to hers.

Aspen's cheeks flushed a deep pink under his intense gaze. She ducked her head slightly, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping her. "Isobel's doing," she murmured, tugging at the strap of her bag as if to distract herself. "It's a little more than I'd usually wear."

Harry took a step closer, closing the space between them. His hand came up gently, his fingers tilting her chin so she'd meet his gaze. The warmth in his eyes melted away any lingering doubts she had about the outfit.

"You're perfect," he said, his tone steady and certain. The sincerity in his voice wrapped around her like a blanket. "Don't change a thing. I love it."

Aspen's breath caught, her heart racing under his unwavering attention. The blush on her cheeks deepened, and all she could manage was a soft, "Okay," her voice almost a whisper.

Harry's thumb brushed lightly along her jaw before he dropped his hand, though his eyes stayed locked on hers for a moment longer. His own heart was pounding—he wasn't even sure how she didn't notice the way his hands itched to reach for her again, just to keep her close.

Before either of them could say another word, Isobel's cheerful voice rang out from the top of the stairs. "Come on, lovebirds! We're going to be late!"

Harry chuckled, breaking the moment as he stepped back, his hand naturally finding the small of Aspen's back to guide her toward his car. "Guess that's our cue," he said softly, glancing down at her with a smile that felt reserved just for her.

Aspen followed his lead, her heart still fluttering in her chest. As they walked, she couldn't help but steal a glance at him—the way his rolled sleeves accentuated his forearms, the casual way his flannel swayed with his movements, and the ease in his stride. He looked good. He always did, but tonight... there was something different.

The night was just beginning, but Aspen already felt the buzz of excitement tingling through her. And it wasn't just about the party ahead—it was about Harry, and the way his every glance, touch, and word made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

The drive to Niall's party was filled with a mix of quiet conversation and a shared anticipation. Harry's hand rested comfortably on the gear shift, his fingers occasionally brushing against Aspen's knee as they chatted about nothing in particular. Aspen felt her nerves ebb and flow; this was her first time going to a party like this with Harry, and she wasn't sure what to expect.

When they arrived, the unmistakable hum of bass reverberated from the house, spilling into the night air. The sound grew louder as Harry pushed open the front door for her, the familiar chaos of a party greeting them like a wave. Laughter, music, and snippets of overlapping conversations blended together in an almost overwhelming cacophony.

Aspen instinctively pressed closer to Harry's side, her arm brushing against his as they stepped inside. He noticed the small movement immediately, glancing down at her with a reassuring smile. "Stay close," he said, his voice low but audible against the noise.

She nodded, her heart steadying slightly at the comfort of his presence. Together, they wove through the crowded space, stopping to greet Liam, Louis, and Zayn. Each of the boys greeted Aspen warmly, their familiarity making her feel a little less out of place. Isobel had already peeled away, spotting a group of friends across the room, leaving Aspen tucked safely under Harry's protective gaze.

As they maneuvered through the living room, Aspen's eyes darted around, taking in the lively scene. People were scattered in groups, some dancing, others huddled on couches, and a few lingering by the kitchen island with drinks in hand. Her gaze snagged briefly on a figure near the edge of the room—Kirsten.

The sight made her stomach twist involuntarily. Kirsten was laughing at something, her posture relaxed and carefree. Aspen's fingers twitched, an urge to grab onto Harry stronger than before, but she forced herself to look away. It didn't seem like Harry had noticed, his attention focused on steering them toward the drinks table in the kitchen.

"Want a drink?" Harry asked as they approached, his voice cutting through the noise as he leaned slightly closer to her.

"Juice, if they have it," Aspen replied quickly. She wasn't in the mood to risk alcohol, not with the way her nerves were still settling.

Harry nodded, scanning the array of bottles and mixers sprawled across the counter. He reached for a carton of juice, unscrewing the cap and pouring it into a cup. Before handing it to her, he paused, taking a sip himself.

His brows furrowed for a brief moment as he swirled the liquid in his mouth before nodding in approval. "Just juice," he confirmed with a small smirk, handing the cup to her.

Aspen took it with a shy smile, grateful for the small gesture of care. Harry grabbed a beer for himself, expertly popping the cap off with one hand.

"You okay?" he asked, his green eyes searching hers as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the counter.

"Yeah," she said, sipping her drink. "It's... loud. But I'm fine."

Harry chuckled, his hand resting briefly on the small of her back. "It's always loud with Niall. You'll get used to it. If it gets too much, just say the word."

She nodded, her chest warming at his attentiveness. Even here, surrounded by chaos and distraction, Harry made her feel seen—like she mattered more than anything else in the room.

As they moved to find a quieter corner, Aspen felt herself relax slightly. The drink in her hand grounded her, and Harry's steady presence beside her made the overwhelming atmosphere feel manageable. She cast another glance around the room, but Kirsten was nowhere in sight now.

Good, she thought, turning her attention fully back to Harry as he sipped his beer and tilted his head toward her. The night was still young, and she silently vowed not to let anything ruin the moment they were building together.

Harry leaned against the kitchen counter, beer in hand, his body angled toward Aspen. The faint smirk playing on his lips softened as he looked at her, his green eyes catching the low kitchen lights. Aspen was still close, her drink clutched delicately between her hands.

"See? Juice isn't so bad at a party," he teased, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

She laughed softly, the sound barely carrying over the thrum of the music from the next room. "It's safer. I can't afford an Isobel-level hangover," she replied, taking a small sip for emphasis.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair point. She's a lightweight, but she recovers fast. Maybe you'll be one 'nd the same."

"I think I might still feel Zayn's party for her," she joked, glancing down at her cup. "But this is nice. I like just... talking like this."

He smiled at that, a warmth spreading through his chest. "Yeah? Me too. 'S easy with you."

Her heart skipped at his words, and she tried to focus on the rim of her cup instead of how close his gaze made her feel. It was like he could see right through her, past the noise of the party and into something she wasn't even sure she fully understood yet.

They fell into a rhythm of light conversation, their words flowing as naturally as the comfort between them. Harry asked about her day, his tone genuinely curious, and Aspen recounted the little details she hadn't thought worth mentioning before. He listened intently, occasionally nodding or adding a playful comment that made her laugh.

But as they talked, Aspen became increasingly aware of the others around them. Niall's party was buzzing with energy, and she couldn't help but notice how many people greeted Harry, waving or clapping him on the back in passing. He was clearly a familiar face here, and it struck her that she might be unintentionally keeping him from joining his friends.

She hesitated, fiddling with the cup in her hands before glancing up at him. "Harry?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, his eyes still fixed on her.

She smiled softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "You don't have to stick by me all night, you know. If you want to go hang out with your friends or—"

Harry frowned, cutting her off with a shake of his head. "What? No. 'M not leaving y'here alone."

"I wouldn't be alone," she argued gently, motioning to the room full of people. "I'll be fine, Harry. Really. I don't want to hold you back from... whatever it is you'd rather be doing."

His frown deepened, and he set his beer down on the counter with a soft clink before turning fully toward her. "Aspen," he said firmly, his voice lowering enough that it felt like they had their own little bubble of quiet. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. If I wanted to be with anyone else, I'd be there. Not here. But 'm here with you 'cause you mean more t'me."

Her cheeks flushed at his words, the sincerity in his voice almost overwhelming. She opened her mouth to respond, but he beat her to it, his lips curving into a softer smile.

"Besides," he added, his tone lighter now, "if I let y'out of my sight, who's going to make sure your juice stays jus' juice?"

She laughed despite herself, the sound easing the tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding in her chest. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," he agreed, his smile widening. "But 'm also not leaving you. So deal with it."

Aspen shook her head, her grin matching his. "Fine. Suit yourself."

"I will," he quipped, taking another sip of his beer as if to punctuate the moment.

The conversation flowed naturally again after that, but Harry stayed closer than before, his arm brushing hers occasionally as if to remind her he wasn't going anywhere. Aspen felt a warmth settle in her chest—a feeling she was beginning to recognize as uniquely tied to him.

The two were still mid-conversation when Kirsten approached, her appearance so sudden that even Harry—typically unflappable—tensed slightly. She wore her signature smile, the one that didn't quite meet her eyes, as she sauntered up with a drink in hand.

"Well, well," she began, her tone syrupy sweet. "If it isn't the cutest couple at the party."

Aspen turned, her face lighting up in genuine surprise. "Oh, hey, Kirsten!"

Harry's jaw ticked, but he masked it quickly, offering a tight smile. "Kirsten."

Kirsten tilted her head, her gaze flicking between the two of them. "I was just telling Zayn how happy I am for you guys. I mean, really, Aspen, you've got quite the catch here."

Aspen's cheeks flushed at the comment, her shyness kicking in. "Oh, um, thank you. Harry's... he's great."

Harry glanced at Aspen, his features softening momentarily at the sincerity in her voice, but when his gaze shifted back to Kirsten, his expression hardened again.

"Anyway," Kirsten continued, leaning slightly toward Aspen as if to exclude Harry, "you're looking amazing tonight. That outfit? Killer. Who knew you had it in you?"

Aspen blinked, unsure if that was meant as a compliment or something else entirely, but she managed a small smile. "Thanks. Isobel helped me pick it out."

"Of course she did," Kirsten said with a laugh, her eyes glinting with something Harry didn't like. "She's always had an eye for this kind of thing."

Before either of them could respond, Kirsten held out a cup toward Aspen. "Here. I grabbed you another juice. Figured you'd want a refill."

Aspen hesitated for a moment but took the cup with a grateful smile. "Oh, thank you. That's so nice of you."

Kirsten's smile widened, her eyes flickering briefly to Harry. "Anything for you, Aspen." With that, she waved a hand and breezed off, heading back to the group she'd come from.

Aspen raised the cup to her lips, ready to take a sip, but Harry's hand shot out, gently but firmly taking the drink from her.

"Harry?" she asked, confused by the sudden action.

He didn't answer immediately, his brow furrowed as he brought the cup to his nose and sniffed. His frown deepened, and without a word, he tipped the cup back and took a cautious sip. The sharp taste of vodka immediately hit his tongue, and his jaw clenched.

"Are y'kiddin' me?" he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on the cup.

Aspen tilted her head, concern lacing her features. "What's wrong?"

Harry set the cup down on the counter with a little more force than necessary, his green eyes locking onto hers. "It's spiked. There's vodka in it."

Aspen's eyes widened in shock. "What? But... I didn't—."

"I know you didn't," Harry cut her off, his voice softer but still laced with a protective edge. "But she did." His eyes trailed along with Kirsten who shuffled through the crowd, shaking his head.

Aspen blinked, her confusion deepening. "Kirsten? Why would she...?"

Harry let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his frustration in check. "I don't know, but anyone who knows you knows you don't drink. Tha's not an accident."

Aspen's lips parted, but no words came out. She looked down at the cup, her brows knitting together as realization dawned. "I didn't even think... I just—."

"Hey," Harry interrupted, stepping closer and cupping her cheek gently. "It's not your fault. Y'shouldn't have to think about stuff like that."

She leaned into his touch, her face still tinged with worry. "I just don't understand why she'd do that."

Harry's jaw tightened again, but he kept his voice steady for her sake. "Some people are just... I don't know, Aspen. But 's okay, I'll go grab you another, yeah? No need to fret."

Aspen nodded, her hands curling into the hem of her top. "Thank you, Harry. For looking out for me."

"Always," he said firmly, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Let's just... steer clear of Kirsten for the rest of the night, yeah?"

Aspen gave a small nod, her trust in him evident in the way she relaxed under his gaze. Harry, however, made a mental note to keep an even closer eye on Kirsten for the remainder of the party.

An hour later, the party continued to hum with noise and activity, but Harry and Aspen had found a quieter moment in the kitchen. The two leaned casually against the counter, a shared bowl of chips between them, as their conversation meandered through light and playful topics. Harry popped a chip into his mouth, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at Aspen.

“I have to say,” he started, his tone easy but laced with sincerity, “your eyeliner tonight? Flawless. You’re like some kind of makeup wizard or something.”

Aspen blinked, then let out a soft laugh, tilting her head as she brushed a stray curl behind her ear. “Makeup wizard? That’s a new one.”

“I’m serious,” Harry insisted, his lips quirking into a small grin. “It’s sharp enough to cut someone. Deadly.”

She rolled her eyes, though the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away. “Thanks, Harry, but it’s really not that impressive.”

“Oh, it is,” he countered, leaning just a fraction closer. “I’m impressed.”

Aspen smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as a teasing glint appeared in her eyes. “If you’re so impressed, maybe I should do yours. Let’s see how you pull off a cat-eye.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Aspen said, her tone playful but challenging. “I’ve got my liner in my bag. I could make you look runway-ready in ten minutes.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, before shrugging. “Alright, deal. Let’s see what you’ve got, wizard.”

Aspen blinked, startled by his willingness. “Wait, seriously?”

“Why not?” Harry replied, leaning casually against the counter. “It’s a party. Let’s have some fun. Plus, I trust you.”

Her heart fluttered at the casual way he said those words, and she quickly turned away to fish through her bag, hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers trembled slightly. “Okay, but I need decent lighting. I can’t work miracles in the middle of a party.”

Harry chuckled, pushing off the counter and nodding toward the hallway. “Come on. I know just the place.”

He led her through the crowd, his hand naturally finding the small of her back as they weaved between clusters of people. When they reached the bathroom, Harry opened the door and gestured for her to step inside first.

The bathroom was surprisingly tidy, with bright lighting that illuminated every detail. Harry leaned against the sink, crossing his arms as he watched her set her bag down on the counter and pull out the eyeliner.

“Alright, sit,” Aspen instructed, pointing to the closed toilet lid.

Harry obliged, his posture relaxed as he perched on the seat, looking up at her with an amused expression. “This is going to be good.”

Aspen leaned down slightly, her focus shifting entirely to him as she uncapped the eyeliner. “Stay still, or I’ll accidentally poke your eye out. Then you’ll have to explain to everyone why you’re walking around with one eye closed.”

“I’ll behave,” he promised, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes suggested otherwise.

She started carefully, her free hand resting lightly on his cheek to steady herself. As she worked, Harry found himself watching her, his gaze tracing the curve of her lips, the furrow of concentration in her brow, and the way her lashes brushed her cheeks.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmured softly.

“Shh,” Aspen replied, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Don’t distract me.”

But inside, her heart was pounding. She was hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, the way his breath fanned across her wrist every time he exhaled.

When she finally leaned back to inspect her work, she couldn’t help but laugh. Thick lines of black flooded his waterline, yet it somehow looked good. “Okay, you actually pull this off. I hate that you look good in eyeliner.”

Harry stood and turned toward the mirror, his brows lifting as he examined her handiwork. “Damn,” he said with a grin, tilting his head to the side. “You weren’t kidding. I look... edgy.”

Aspen giggled, capping the eyeliner and tucking it back into her bag. “You’re welcome. Now you can tell everyone you’ve had a professional makeover.”

He turned back to her, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Thanks, wizard.”

Her breath hitched, and she tried to play it off with a light laugh. “Anytime, Potter.”

Harry hummed softly, leaning down to cup her jaw with both of his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips. "'S been too long since I could do that," He grinned, pressing his lips back onto hers. 

Aspen wrapped her hands around his wrists, sighing contently. It had been too long since they've had a moment alone. Their lips worked together with ease, each tilt of their heads deepening the kiss. Harry mumbled something against her lips, using his foot to kick the door closed and fumbled out a hand to click the lock shut. 

With quick swiftness, his hands dropped down to the back of her thighs, lifting her to wrap her legs around his torso. Harry's lips sprawled out onto her neck as her thighs made contact with the cold counter. 

"Harry," She sighed out, closing her eyes as she tilted her head back. His reply was another hum against her skin, his fingers hooking on the hem of the neck of Aspen's shirt to pull it down, his lips following the bare skin. Before she could say anything more, Harry's mouth latched onto her collarbone as his free hand gave her hip a firm squeeze. A breathy moan fell from the girls lips, a sound that was so easy to draw out for Harry. 

Harry’s lips trailed lower, his hands steadying Aspen against the counter. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers threading into his soft curls as her heart raced. Her chest rose and fell with every rapid inhale, and she fought to gather her thoughts amid the heat building between them.

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He pulled back just enough to look up at her, his green eyes dark and full of affection. “Hmm?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her bottom lip nervously. “I... I want to, um... return the favor,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned on him. He stood straight, his hands shifting to cup her face gently. “Aspen, you don’t have to,” he said firmly, his voice low and reassuring. “Last night wasn’t about keeping score. And right now... 's jus' me wantin' to kiss you a bit. Missed that.”

“I know,” she said quickly, her hands moving to rest on his forearms. “But I want to. I... practiced earlier today.” Her eyes darted away from his, embarrassment flooding her face.

Harry blinked, caught off guard. His lips twitched into a soft smile, but he could see the genuine nervousness in her expression. “Practiced?” he asked gently, his tone curious but kind.

She nodded, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. “For you. I... wanted to be good at it. You’re always so patient and sweet, and I just...”

Harry chuckled softly, pressing his forehead to hers. “Aspen, you’re perfect. You don’t have to prove anything to me. But what d'you mean by practiced?”

A deep red flushed her cheeks, her eyes dropping to anywhere but his. The gentle touch of his thumbs on her skin soothed her. “I... just ordered something,” she squeaked out, "and I spent the morning just... using it? But n-not all the way, but you know." Aspen spluttered out in embarrassment, her eyes meeting his with determination despite her shyness.

He studied her for a moment before nodding. An amused smile turned up his lips but a new flicker of heat flooded his eyes. The thought of her taking anything down her mouth, honestly, made his head spin. “Alright,” he said softly. “But if at any point y'feel uncomfortable, you tell me, yeah?”

She nodded, swallowing hard as her nerves buzzed. “Okay.”

Harry leaned in to kiss her softly, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as if to reassure her. “Take your time, love.”

liding off the counter, Aspen took a deep breath and dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands trembling slightly as they moved to the buckle of his belt. Harry leaned back against the counter, his fingers gently threading through her hair, offering soothing strokes.

“You’re doing great,” he murmured, his voice warm and steady. “No rush.”

Aspen fumbled with the belt, her hands clumsy with nerves, but Harry’s patient presence helped steady her. She managed to undo it, the soft clink of the metal filling the quiet bathroom, followed by the sound of his zipper. Her breath hitched as she tugged his jeans down just enough, her hands pausing when she saw him.

Her blush deepened as she stared, her mind instantly comparing him to the toy she had practiced with. He was... much bigger.

“Harry...” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Hey,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against her cheek to catch her attention. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”

She shook her head, determination flickering in her eyes despite her nervousness. “I want to,” she said, her voice a bit stronger this time, "you're just.. big. Really big."

His thumb gently stroked her jaw, his smile soft and reassuring while a laugh ripped through him. “Just go slow, love. You’re already doing amazing, especially at fueling my ego.”

With a deep breath, Aspen leaned forward, her hand wrapping around the base of him carefully. The warmth of her palm made Harry’s breath hitch, but he remained still, letting her set the pace. He felt heavy in her hands, her hand barely able to wrap around him and she was sure that with two hands wrapped around his length, there'd still be extra.

Aspen pressed a tentative kiss to the tip, her heart racing as she tried to remember everything she had practiced earlier. She glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his as she saw the soft encouragement in his expression. His brows were furrowed slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. 

“You’ve got this,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

Gathering her courage, she took him into her mouth, her movements slow and careful. The taste wasn't bad, she thought, maybe even a bit sweet. His tip felt heavy on her tongue, her tongue wrapping around it as best as she could. As she pulled back up, her lips closed around the tip to another kiss. Harry’s hand in her hair tightened slightly, a low groan escaping his lips as she worked.

“God, Aspen,” he breathed, his head tipping back against the mirror. “You’re... incredible.” He quickly looked back down, swallowing once more as he kept his eyes locked on hers.

His words spurred her on, and she continued, her confidence growing with every soft groan and murmured praise that fell from his lips. Aspen laid her tongue flat along the underside of his tip, swirling around the pink head of his cock before she trained the muscle to slide between his slit. A groan rippled through Harry's chest followed by another cuss word. 

Taking her chances, Aspen took his cock between her lips again. Her red lips stretched around the length before they curled over her teeth as she sank lower. She whined softly, which made Harry's breath hitch and his grip tighten in her hair.

When she finally pulled back, her lips red and her breathing heavy, Harry looked down at her with a mixture of awe and affection.

“You’re so fuckin' amazing,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But we’re stopping if this is too much.”

Aspen shook her head, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she met his gaze. “I’m okay,” she whispered. 

Harry leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he continued to run his fingers through her hair. “You’re perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.”

With a shy gaze up at Harry, her tongue came out to kitten lick at his tip a couple of times before she returned to her position once more. His brows furrowed, lips parted and wet as he stared down at her. She looked far from his little angel, but he swore he could see wings coming out around her still.

"Fuckin' hell," He moaned, looking down with darker eyes now. They fluttered closed as he felt himself hit the back of Aspen's throat, brows furrowing more at the sensation. Even at a loss for words, every sound he continued to make shot straight to the girls core. She pressed her thighs together at the sound, looking back up at him. His breathing had picked up, his chest rising and falling with harsh breaths escaping his nose.

Aspen pressed her tongue flat along the underside of his cock, following the pressure of the vein as she bobbed her head carefully. Harry fumbled down to grab one of her hands on his thighs. The man brought her palm up, leaning forward and letting a dribble of spit past his lips. The man inhaled, setting her slick hand onto the base of his cock.

She was quick to get the message, her small hand syncing up with her mouth. She took heavy breaths, but her determination drove her to swallow around his cock once he hit the back of her throat again. 

"Fuck!" Harry groaned, pulling her up and off of his cock. "Fuck, 'm sorry, shit," His voice was hoarse, his eyes locked on the string of saliva that connected from her red lips to the tip of his cock. Aspen looked up at him with her doe eyes, taking heavy breaths herself. She tilted her head in confusion, which Harry was quick to answer.

"I jus', holy fuck," Harry laughed breathlessly, watching as she returned to pressing little kisses to his tip. "Was gonna cum if you.. fuck," he shuddered, closing his eyes as she sucked around the slit.

Harry took ahold of her hand, his arm wrapping around her waist to set her on the counter. "Need t'play with you," He spoke against her lips while his hands fumbled with her shorts. As much as he loved them, and would advocate for her to wear them more often, he needed them off. He slid the material off her thighs and let them bunch up around her ankles, his mouth hotly covering the skin of her exposed neck. 

The mans fingers danced along the inside of her thigh while they peeled her panties to the side. He was quick to lay his fingers over her clit, which made her moan out in surprise. "Harry," She whimpered, taking the material of his shirt between her fisted palms. 

"I know, baby, I know," He muttered, pulling back to look at her, Her back was flush against the mirror, lips dark red and stained with spit, sporting her doe eyes once more. His green eyes trailed down her chest and to the girls open thighs, and he groaned at the sight of her pussy. 

His fingers slid down to her entrance, collecting the slick that collected between to drag up towards her clit. With the newfound wet, he continued to circle her clit while his free hand wrapped around the base of his cock. 

"Harry," Aspen moaned, her brows furrowing in pleasure. She arched her hips into his touch, reaching down for the hand on his cock. With flushed cheeks, she looked up at him as she spit into his palm before letting him return. 

Harry swore he could pass out. Everything about the moment was so needy and full of want. His head was spinning of just Aspen. The knocks on the door broke him out of his gaze, though that didn't stop him from wrapping his hand around his cock again. 

"Busy!" He called out, his eyes breaking from the door to stare at Aspen once more. She was close, he could tell. The way her thighs threatened to close around his hand, the way she got quiet besides her sounds. He was close behind.

Even though he had turned to his hand multiple times because of the thought of Aspen, nothing could compare to actually seeing his visions come to life. The little bead of cum threatening to spill from her entrance made Harry's fingers dip in, collecting the bead onto his fingers along with her slick and he brought it to his lips with a smug smirk.

Aspen whimpered at the sight and only dug her hips further in need for his hands back on her. "H-harry," she breathed, taking a hold of his wrist followed by a high whine. "Please," She breathed out, closing her eyes. The knocking on the door persisted, which drove Harry to quicken his hands on her clit and around his cock. 

"Fuck, Asp," Harry groaned, sliding between her thighs. The coil in his stomach built quickly, his brows dropping into a deep furrow with parted lips. His eyes were trained on her fluttering entrance just beneath his slick cock.

"'M so close," The man warned, his dark eyes scanning back up to Aspen through his lashes.

Suddenly, an idea sparked through her mind. She was no stranger to what she read in books with the names they called their partners. The heat settled in her low stomach and a new shrill traveled up her spine. 

Aspen cried out only a second later, her thighs shaking around his hand that was buried between her thighs, "Daddy!" 

Harry lost it at that. His hand pumped quicker over his cock as a string of curse words filled the room. "Jesus christ, Aspen, what the fuck--!" He gasped, followed by a groan as he hunched forward with a weakening moan that made his chest heave as he painted Aspen's lower stomach. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry whimpered, his hand leaving his cock to force her thighs open.

With heavy breaths, his eyes locked on how her mess covered his hand before they trailed up to her eyes. She looked compeltely fucked out, and that only made Harry's ears ring further. The man was beyond expecting that name from Aspen, or anything besides his name. He'd never given much thought to it, it never really drove him wild in past hookups, but the way her lips quivered and her pussy had clenched around his fingers, he was a goner. 

Harry's chest heaved as he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against Aspen's. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing, the intimate tension gradually giving way to a softer, more vulnerable atmosphere. His hands, still trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment, tenderly cupped her face.

"You okay, love?" he murmured, his voice hoarse yet gentle. His thumb brushed across her flushed cheek, and his green eyes searched hers for any sign of discomfort or unease.

Aspen nodded, her lips curving into a small, shy smile. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice soft but steady. "I'm... so good." Her cheeks burned, and she couldn't quite meet his gaze. The reality of what she had just said—and how it had affected him—hit her in waves, each one leaving her a little more breathless than the last.

Harry chuckled softly, the sound deep and low, as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Didn't see that one coming," he admitted, a crooked grin forming on his lips. He pulled back slightly, his gaze warm but teasing. "Ya' trying t'kill me, little mouse?"

Aspen let out a nervous laugh, covering her face with her hands. "I don't know what came over me," she admitted, her voice muffled. "I just... I don't even know where that came from!"

Harry gently pried her hands away from her face, his grin softening into a more affectionate smile. "Well, wherever it came from, it was... unexpected. But not unwelcome." His tone was playful but sincere, a reassurance that she didn't need to feel embarrassed. He dipped down and kissed her lips carefully, "Genuinely did somethin' to me, fuck." 

As the initial haze began to fade, Harry grabbed a tissue from the counter, carefully cleaning both of them up with a tenderness that made Aspen's heart ache in the best way. She watched him, marveling at the way he cared for her without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He helped her slide her shorts back on before tucking himself back in and zipping himself back up.

When he was done, he leaned against the counter beside her, running a hand through his messy curls. "Y'know," he said, his voice quieter now, "I wasn't lying earlier. Y'really are full 'f surprises, baby."

She finally met his gaze, her lips curving into a genuine smile. "Good surprises, I hope?"

"The best," Harry replied, his voice earnest as he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. "Always the best."

Aspen felt her heart flutter at his words, her earlier nervousness replaced by a sense of warmth and security. For all the intensity of the moment, it was the way Harry looked at her now—with a mixture of admiration and care—that truly took her breath away.

They stayed like that for a while, fingers intertwined, leaning against the counter in comfortable silence. There was no rush, no need for words—just the quiet understanding that whatever this was between them, it was theirs.

The knocking grew more impatient, more heavy handed which made Aspen flush in embarrassment. "Oh god..."

Harry grinned his lopsided smile, his lip ring catching the light as he helped her back onto his feet. "Come on, better get out before they SWAT the door." He took her hand and intertwined their fingers once more, using his other hand to gently brush through her messy hair. 

Harry gave Aspen a reassuring squeeze as he approached the door, his smug grin already forming. Aspen's heart raced at the thought of who might be on the other side. She quickly glanced in the mirror to smooth her hair and adjust her slightly askew top, still blushing furiously. The knocking continued, sharp and insistent, making her wince.

“Relax, love,” Harry teased, his tone laced with amusement as he unlocked the door. “It’s just a party. What’s the worst that could happen?”

As the door swung open, the worst—or perhaps the most unexpected—happened. Kirsten stood there, her eyes immediately landing on Harry, her expression shifting from annoyance to utter shock. Her mouth opened slightly, and her gaze flitted between Harry, his tousled hair and flushed face, and Aspen, who was stepping out from behind him.

Kirsten's shock deepened when she took in Aspen's shy but undeniably proud demeanor. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.

Harry leaned casually against the doorframe, his smirk wide and unmistakable. "Hey, Kirsten," he said, his voice dripping with a playful smugness that only he could pull off. "You looking for something?"

Aspen felt her cheeks flush hot as she stepped out from behind him, her eyes darting to the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Kirsten, though she felt a strange sense of satisfaction creeping up from deep within her. Maybe it was the fact that Harry didn’t seem fazed at all by the interruption. Or maybe it was the fact that they had just shared something so private, something intimate, and now it was—unintentionally—being displayed right in front of Kirsten.

Kirsten’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and... something else. Aspen wasn’t sure if it was envy or just sheer shock, but it stung all the same. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.

Aspen, however, could feel the heat of her own emotions building. She fought to keep her posture relaxed, though her stomach twisted uncomfortably with the unexpected confrontation. Her hands subconsciously squeezed Harrys fingers, her body language betraying her nervousness.

"Is there something you need?" Harry asked again, a touch of mockery in his tone as he looked at Kirsten, his lopsided grin never fading.

“I—uh…” Kirsten finally managed, her voice faltering as she regained some semblance of composure. “I was just—Niall’s looking for you both. That’s all.”

“Is he now?” Harry replied smoothly, his smirk only widening. “Well, we’ll be right out. Thanks for letting us know.”

Kirsten’s eyes darted back to Aspen once more, as if trying to piece together the situation. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she gave a curt nod before turning on her heel and walking off.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Aspen let out a nervous giggle, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god. She knows.”

Harry turned to face her, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Good,” he said simply, his voice firm but amused. “She needed to.”

Aspen tilted her head at him, her eyes wide. “You’re so smug right now,” she teased, though her tone was light.

“Can you blame me?” Harry asked, stepping closer and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Let her stew on it. She had her chance, and she blew it-- though she never really had a chance, not with you 'round. Now? You’re mine, and I don’t care who knows it.”

Aspen felt her cheeks flush again, but this time it wasn’t out of embarrassment. She nodded, her heart swelling at the possessive yet tender way he spoke. “I guess that’s one way to make an impression,” she said, her lips twitching into a smile.

Harry chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “Come on, little mouse. Let’s not keep Niall waiting.”

Aspen followed, her head down as she tried to ignore the feeling of Kirsten’s eyes on her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the rush of embarrassment and pride battling for dominance in her mind. Her thoughts were chaotic, a mix of everything from the heat of their intimate moment to the surreal feeling of having Kirsten witness their departure. But through it all, one thing remained clear: she didn’t regret it.

As Harry led the way, Aspen caught a glimpse of the smirk on his face, and the feeling of pride bloomed again. She had wanted to send a message to Kirsten, to show that what they had was real and it was theirs. No matter how awkward or strange the situation had become, she couldn’t deny the quiet satisfaction building in her chest.

Kirsten’s shock was everything Aspen needed to see, and in that moment, she realized how much of a weight had been lifted. It wasn’t just about showing Kirsten, it was about asserting herself, about knowing that what she had with Harry was more than a fleeting moment—it was something meaningful, and she had every right to claim it.

As they moved deeper into the house, Aspen stole a glance back at the door, her heart still thudding loudly in her chest. She had no idea what the future held, but for now, she was more certain than ever that this was the path she wanted to walk. With Harry by her side.

And even though the events of the last few minutes had caught her off guard, one thing was certain: she was done hiding.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

bonus! ig posts!