Drabbletag - Indecision
Title: Like Amber
Prompt: Drabbletag 6 - Indecision
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Tonks/Hooch
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 250
“You always were an impatient brat,” Hooch growls. Fingers digging in along Tonks’ inner thighs, rough hard hands leaving pink stripes on pale skin.
Tonks smirks, hand sliding down to massage her own clit. Hips rocking up as Hooch’s eyes narrow, the colour of liquid gold. She laughs and squirms when Hooch’s hand snaps out, grabs at her wrist and yanks it over her head.
“What should I do with you, brat?” Hooch murmurs, their lips almost-but-not-quite brushing together, no matter how much Tonks cranes her head for a kiss.
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, hooks one leg around Hooch’s waist. “Maybe you should punish me,” she offers, letting her voice be nice and cheeky, letting her eyes turn that hypnotising shade of amber to match Hooch’s own.
Hooch’s smile is just the right kind of mean, sharp and baring her teeth. “Maybe I should.” She pauses then, and Tonks can practically see her mind racing as her eyes rake over Tonks’ chest.
Tonks fidgets, throbbing and so wet for it already, and Hooch’s hand tightens around her wrist. “How are you going to give it to me?” Tonks asks, lets it be a taunt, goading Hooch on.
Hooch chuckles then, raspy and wicked enough to raise goosebumps on Tonks’ arms. “I can’t decide,” she admits, and Tonks lets out a moan when she realises that Hooch’s free hand is reaching for the leather of her Quidditch gloves. “So I’ll just have to give you everything.”
Prompt: Drabbletag 6 - Indecision
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Tonks/Hooch
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 250
“You always were an impatient brat,” Hooch growls. Fingers digging in along Tonks’ inner thighs, rough hard hands leaving pink stripes on pale skin.
Tonks smirks, hand sliding down to massage her own clit. Hips rocking up as Hooch’s eyes narrow, the colour of liquid gold. She laughs and squirms when Hooch’s hand snaps out, grabs at her wrist and yanks it over her head.
“What should I do with you, brat?” Hooch murmurs, their lips almost-but-not-quite brushing together, no matter how much Tonks cranes her head for a kiss.
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, hooks one leg around Hooch’s waist. “Maybe you should punish me,” she offers, letting her voice be nice and cheeky, letting her eyes turn that hypnotising shade of amber to match Hooch’s own.
Hooch’s smile is just the right kind of mean, sharp and baring her teeth. “Maybe I should.” She pauses then, and Tonks can practically see her mind racing as her eyes rake over Tonks’ chest.
Tonks fidgets, throbbing and so wet for it already, and Hooch’s hand tightens around her wrist. “How are you going to give it to me?” Tonks asks, lets it be a taunt, goading Hooch on.
Hooch chuckles then, raspy and wicked enough to raise goosebumps on Tonks’ arms. “I can’t decide,” she admits, and Tonks lets out a moan when she realises that Hooch’s free hand is reaching for the leather of her Quidditch gloves. “So I’ll just have to give you everything.”