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ellemj · 4 months

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Letters to Santa, Part 2: 12 Days of Smut #11

Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic

Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike. Read part 1 here.

Warnings: profanity, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: There is a scene in this that was wholly inspired by one of @littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty sketches, check out her blog and comment on the sketch that you think I used! This is a continuation of the request submitted by @stuckysbike, thank you again for submitting it and trusting me to give it a go! I've decided that day 12 will simply be the gift that comes tomorrow (today technically, in less than 24 hours): Needs & Wants Bonus Chapter.

You can’t deny that you look a little bit like a Christmas gift all wrapped up in your short little burgundy bathrobe. You’ve just finished showering and doing your skincare, and you’re flipping off the bathroom light switch when you hear the softest knock at your door. You stand still for a moment, wondering if you actually heard what you think you heard. The only person who ever comes to your door is one of the girls, and even then, they never knock, they simply let themselves in. You hear the knocking sound a second time and your feet begin carrying you away from the bathroom, across your room, and straight to the door. When you pull it open, Bucky stands before you, looking like he has a million things to say but very few words to utilize.

“Bucky?” You say his name like you aren’t even sure it’s him, but obviously it is. His eyes are quick to coast down your figure, taking in the sight of you in that little burgundy robe with the tie around your waist fashioned into a bow. You look like a fucking gift. Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. The first wish from the list in your dirty letter to Santa flashes through Bucky’s mind as he memorizes every detail about the way you look right now.

“How much did you have to drink tonight?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you as he finally focuses his gaze on your face. You scrunch up your cheeks and nose in annoyance. You can’t believe he’d have the audacity to knock on your door and ask you something like that.

“Why the hell are you here asking me that?”

“Because if you had a lot to drink, then your letter to Santa ending up underneath my bedroom door might’ve just been a momentary lapse in judgement. But if you didn’t then…” Bucky lets his voice trail off as he studies your expression, looking for any answer to the countless questions he has swirling around in his head.

“My letter? Under your door?” You ask incredulously. You immediately begin backtracking in your mind, remembering how you started cleaning up the kitchen and totally forgot about the letter you left sitting on the coffee table. One of the girls or Sam must’ve grabbed it and slid it under Bucky’s door as some stupid prank. Your face falls as you realize he very well could’ve opened it and read it. “Wait, you didn’t…” When your shocked eyes look into Bucky’s, he almost wishes he hadn’t read it.

“So, you didn’t slide it under my door.” Bucky confirms. Why is there a hint of disappointment in his tone? Are you imagining it? Was he hoping that you had? Wait, why the fuck did he decide to knock on your door? Just to ask how much you had to drink and to find out if you gave him the letter yourself? What would he have done if it really had been you? By the time you pull yourself out of your whirlwind of thoughts, you see Bucky giving you one last look before turning on his heel to head back to his own room. All inhibitions flee as you start moving without thinking. There isn’t one thought left in your mind when you reach out and grab Bucky by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. He tenses up as soon as your hand meets the fabric of the sweatshirt that’s covering his flesh bicep, but he doesn’t pull away from you. Instead, he turns back to face you as your hand falls away from him.

“You read it.” You say softly, not quite sure where your mouth is about to take this unexpected conversation. Bucky nods, his eyes scanning yours for any sort of reaction. “It was a joke letter, just a stupid game Nat wanted us to play.” Bucky nods again, maintaining eye contact with you as you fiddle with the bow at the front of your robe.

“Right, I can’t imagine you’d actually want someone to cum down your chimney.” Your words written on a piece of paper were dirty, but somehow hearing them leave Bucky’s mouth makes them absolutely filthy. You can feel the blush creeping into your cheeks, turning them a soft shade of pink, as you stare up at the man with your lips slightly parted in surprise. A small smirk tugs on the corners of his lips. You don’t quite like how he’s enjoying your surprised reaction, so you decide to try and get a similar reaction out of him, just so you’ll be even.

“Why not? It was on my list, wasn’t it? I also asked for three orgasms in one night, if I remember correctly.” Now Bucky’s the one with the parted lips and a raised eyebrow. He probably would’ve even blushed if all of the blood in his body hadn’t rushed straight to his cock. “What was the other thing I asked for?” You can’t remember what else you’d written in the letter, but now you’re sure that Bucky does. Bucky stares at you for a moment, taking in your pink cheeks, your playful gaze, and the way your arms are currently crossed over your chest as you toy with him. He decides to take the leap.

Bucky slowly reaches out with his flesh hand, giving you every opportunity to either swat his hand away or step back and close the door on him, but you don’t. You follow his movement with your eyes, watching as his fingertips first brush over the fabric around the neck of your robe, and then begin to trail down the front of it lightly until he reaches the bow. He grabs one of the ends of the tie, his eyes flitting up to yours before he makes another move. You don’t say a word. You don’t move a muscle. You’re actually holding your breath. So, Bucky continues. He tugs on the end of the tie with just enough force to unravel the bow and loosen your bathrobe right there in the doorway of your bedroom. You’re still fully covered, but one move and the front of it may fall open and reveal your naked body to the man in front of you. Bucky reaches out with both hands now, as he takes one step forward, limiting the space between the two of you to just a few inches. He wraps his fingers around each side of the opening of your robe, holding them in place so nothing is bared to him, but wanting nothing more than to throw it open. His actions suddenly remind you of the forgotten wish on your list: someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Realization spreads across your face and Bucky gives you a soft smile as your eyes meet his.

“Is this what you asked for?” He questions, rubbing his thumbs over where he holds the fabric of the robe in between his fingertips. You swallow hard and nod slowly. “I know you can use your words, just like you did in the letter.”

Fuck.

“This is one thing.” You answer softly. Bucky could stop here. He could let go of your robe and let you shut the door on him. But the way you’re looking up at him, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you patiently wait for his next move, it makes it impossible for him to stop after only fulfilling one of your wishes. Besides, he hasn’t even fully unwrapped you. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he stopped now.

So, Bucky lets his instincts take over, throwing his rational mind out the window. He looks into your eyes one last time, and you can tell from the lilt in his brow and the serious expression painted on his face that he’s making sure he has your permission. The slight nod that you give him is all he needs. In one swift movement, he’s pulling you against his chest by the front of your robe. When you practically crash against him, he lets his vibranium hand rise to cup the side of your face. His eyes are the most mesmerizing blue, making it simultaneously hard to look into them yet hard to look away. Bucky can’t stop himself from placing his cool, vibranium thumb over your lips, and then dragging it down until it just barely sits between your parted lips. He wants to see how you’ll respond to his touch.

When you part your lips a little more, Bucky knows he’s done for. He won’t be going back to his room at all tonight, he fears. He watches you so closely as his thumb slides past your lips, slipping into your mouth and rubbing over the surface of your tongue as you wrap your lips around it and suck. Fuck. He wishes he’d done it with his flesh hand so he could feel your mouth. Or maybe it’s best that he used the vibranium hand, because if he felt what his vibranium thumb is experiencing right now, he might’ve ended up wanting you to suck him off, and he doesn’t remember seeing that on your Christmas list.

You let Bucky pull his finger out of your mouth with a soft pop of your lips, watching as lust floods into his gaze. In this exact moment, you just want to thank whoever it was that slipped your letter under his door. You have a feeling they did you the biggest favor.

Just a second after Bucky has removed his thumb from your mouth, you’re turning on your heel and heading back into your bedroom, trusting that he’ll follow you without a word. You hear the door click and then the sound of the lock turning just as you reach the foot of your bed. You’re just about to ask Bucky to finish unwrapping you when he’s suddenly right behind you, letting his hands slide over your hips to pull you against him as he leans down and presses his lips to the side of your neck. His mouth is so distracting that you don’t even notice what he’s doing until your robe begins falling off of your shoulders, coming to pool at your feet on the floor. In Bucky’s head, he’s mentally crossing off the first thing on your list.

“You’ll sit on my face.” Bucky says boldly, moving around you and climbing onto your bed like he’s done it a thousand times before. He positions himself on his back, with his head resting flat on your pillow, and his eyes flitting over to get a look at you. The way his gaze trails all over every inch of your naked body lights a fire inside of you, that you think may only be extinguished by riding an orgasm out on his face. So, you don’t question him or second-guess yourself. You do exactly as he wants, carefully positioning yourself to straddle his face. He was planning to take it slow, figure out what you like and what you don’t like, drag you up the hill to your first orgasm slowly. But as soon as he saw your glistening cunt, hovering mere inches above his face, he couldn’t keep himself from gripping your thighs and pulling you down hard. His tongue made contact with your entrance first, and he dove into it with a fiery passion, first dragging his tongue around it in circles, teasing you effortlessly. When you felt the first dip of his tongue inside you, your hands flew to the wooden headboard, holding onto it so tightly that you worried it might splinter.

“Bucky, oh my god.” You moan, letting your right hand float down to tangle in his hair as he licks a line from your entrance, through your folds, and straight to your clit. When he finally starts licking and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves there, you know you won’t last long like this. Moans and whimpers start falling from your lips freely, spurring Bucky on and encouraging him to hold you in place as he works you closer and closer to the edge. “I’m going to cum.”

Bucky almost laughs against your clit, but he controls himself and continues sucking and swirling his tongue right where you need it most. He almost laughed because of how fucking easy it was to get you on the verge of cumming for him. He knew he was good at this, but he didn’t know you’d be so ready and willing for him to please you. When you go tumbling over the edge, waves of pleasure rock through you so hard that you nearly put all of your weight on Bucky’s face. Truthfully, he would’ve welcomed it, but he also has other plans that he wants to carry out.

As you hover above Bucky, catching your breath and trying to calm your trembling thighs, Bucky places a soft kiss against your clit before sliding his hands up to your waist and helping you move to lay on your back next to him.

“That was number one.” He whispers, crawling over you and pressing his lips against your jawline. He lets the tip of his tongue slide over your cheek teasingly, and when he nears your lips, you can nearly taste yourself on him. He uses his knee to nudge your legs apart while continuing his ministrations along your jaw and neck, drawing soft exhales from you with ease.

“Let me catch my breath first.” You laugh lightly. Bucky’s fingers are already diving between your legs, gently slipping back and forth over your folds as he gathers your wetness and spreads it around.

“That wasn’t something you put on the list, catching your breath after any of the three orgasms.” Bucky points out, focusing the pads of his middle and ring fingers over your already overly-sensitive clit and applying a light pressure. “I think you can handle this.” He coos. Fuck. Your back is already arching, causing your tits to press against his still-clothed chest. You start to wonder why the hell he still has his clothes on, but your train of thought is immediately derailed when you feel his middle finger slip inside of you without a warning. It’s been so long since anyone has done this to you, and even since you’ve taken the time to do it to yourself, so the stretch that you feel gives you a stinging pain that causes you to draw in a sharp breath and tighten around his fingertip. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight. How are you going to be able to take my cock, huh baby?” You aren’t sure what gets the loudest moan out of you, his finger plunging into you as far as he can send it or his words. He plans to fuck you.

“I’ll take it.” You promise, not even thinking about what you’re promising. Bucky chuckles lowly before pulling his finger out of you and shoving it back in, beginning to fuck you with it over and over again.

“You’ll take it.” Bucky agrees, adding a second finger as he looks down into your eyes and watches the way your teeth once again sink into your bottom lip. “You’ll take it if you want that last thing on your list.”

Bucky Barnes promising to cum inside of you is the very last thing you expected to get for Christmas. It’s only a couple of minutes later when he’s thrusting his two fingers in and out of you in such a coordinated manner that you’re seconds from another orgasm. Bucky curling his fingers inside of you is what sends you careening over the edge, your second orgasm crashing in so hard that you reach down and grasp Bucky’s hand, holding it still as you roll your hips, riding your high out on his fingers yourself. He’s in awe of you. He’s in awe of every little movement, every little sound, everything you do as you cum for him.

“That’s number two.” Bucky whispers against your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your smooth skin as you finally release his hand and let him slide his fingers out of you. As soon as your breathing begins to slow back to a normal rate, Bucky is pushing himself off of the bed and pulling his sweatshirt over his head. You prop yourself up on your elbows, taking in the curve of his shoulders, the soft scars where vibranium meets skin, and the heaving of his chest. When he pushes off his sweats and boxers, letting his cock spring free from its confines and finally stand fully on display for you, your mouth falls open. “Remember, you said you’d take it.” Bucky reminds you, wrapping his hand around the impressive length and stroking it slowly as he crawls back over you on the bed. “Turn over.”

Once he has you laying on your stomach, he leans down over you, letting his warm chest press against your bare back. You feel his hard cock resting against your ass as he inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes and wondering to himself if you’ve always smelled this damn good. The next few seconds are both a blur and seemingly happening in slow motion as Bucky guides you to slide your knees underneath you and raise your ass up for him. Feeling the head of his cock brush against your entrance has you seeing stars, not even from pleasure, but from anticipation and pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Bucky, please.” You moan, pushing your ass against his length, begging for him to fuck you already. He chuckles lowly once again but obliges, rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth through the wetness coating your folds a few more times before finally slotting his cock into you. You feel every inch as it disappears inside you. You feel it move in the slightest every time Bucky so much as takes a breath. He buries himself to the hilt and then stills, his breath fanning across your neck as you bury your face in your pillow. The grunt that rumbles past his lips sends a rush of heat through your body, traveling straight to your cunt, which then flutters around his shaft.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” He groans out, squeezing his eyes shut and dragging his cock out of you slowly. When he thrusts it back in a second later, he can’t bear to stop again. He starts fucking you so hard that you can’t do a damn thing besides moaning out his name and gripping the bedsheets with both hands. It’s a sight Bucky vows never to forget. “This is what you wanted for Christmas, huh? Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes! God, yes, Bucky.” He loves the way you sound when you’re at his mercy like this. He picks up the pace of the snapping of his hips, watching as your knuckles turn nearly as white as the sheets he’s fucking you on.

“That’s it, take my fucking cock just like that.” Never in your wildest dreams could you have conjured up with a dirty talking Bucky Barnes. He’s filthy. He continues thrusting into you, over and over, relishing in the feeling of your pussy pulling him back in every time he tries to pull out. “You’re going to let me cum inside of you, aren’t you? That’s what you want for Christmas.”

“Yes, please. Fuck, don’t pull out.”

“Good girl, that’s it baby.” Just a few more thrusts from Bucky have you fighting to hold back your orgasm, and he can tell. “Don’t fucking keep it from me, let it go.” He demands, gripping your hips and pounding you into the mattress. Your third orgasm of the night begins with his cock fully seated inside of you. He fucks you through it, chasing his own high as he listens to the dirtiest sounds fall from your parted lips. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He says the words only half a second before he starts filling you up, fucking his cum in as deep as he possibly can.

A couple of minutes later, Bucky is still laying on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and neck as you enjoy the warmth and closeness he offers.

“That was number three.” He whispers, letting his lips ghost over your skin.

“Thank you, Santa.”

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #12 days of smut

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capslocked · 6 months

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words

“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”

Here’s the truth:

Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.

"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."

(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)

You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.

Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.

There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.

You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.

Until,

"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.

Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.

There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:

The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.

The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.

(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)

A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.

But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.

The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.

"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"

"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."

"Smooth."

"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."

Hyewon nearly snorts.

"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"

"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.

Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."

Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.

"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."

You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:

"Pretty."

It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.

"I know. That's what my husband calls me."

"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"

"Different day, different you."

"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."

It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."

"Women like you."

"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.

Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.

"Isn't it," she agrees.

The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -

And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.

But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.

"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.

(What a character, honestly.)

"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."

Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."

You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."

"Never said as much either."

“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”

Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”

"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."

She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.

"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."

So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.

Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.

"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"

That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.

(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)

When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.

"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."

"Mhmm."

"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."

"Like?" you continue to prod.

Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."

You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.

"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.

Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.

She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.

The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.

The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.

"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."

"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."

"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.

"Something like that."

Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.

And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.

"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."

"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.

"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."

She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.

"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.

(Damn.)

Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.

It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:

"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."

She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.

"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.

It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -

She cums just like that.

Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.

"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.

"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."

Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"

"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"

You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.

You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.

And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -

"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight.

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

#hyewon smut #izone smut #izone hyewon smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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adollrable · 3 days

Text

Under the same moon.

✧ summary: where it's your birthday and your boyfriend is on a mission far from home.

✧ cw: female reader x leon kennedy (re4r), fluff, just him being a cutie pie and the boyfiest boyfie ever (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿

✧ wc: 1387

a/n: I'M SCARED, this is my first time writing something COMPLETELY in english so... if something looks kinda silly forgive me 😞 english is not my first language but feel free to give me feedback!

my birthday was two days ago and i kinda want it to write something so, if someone is reading this on their birthday, happy birthday!!! 🤲🏻

11:45 PM. You were pacing around your apartment. Brushing your teeth, doing your skin care routine, pulling out the softest cotton sheets you have at your disposal.

You looked at the calendar that sat on the nightstand next to your bed, your eyes drifting towards the next day's date. Your birthday.

You weren't that excited, the printed number that indicated your day of birth wasn't marked with a red marker that circled it. The date Leon would return was.

Originally, your boyfriend's absence wouldn't interfere with your birthday. He would be with you on your special day. But you thought back to the call you had with him a few days ago, with him trying to get a signal to tell you that he couldn't make it on time and that he was really sorry.

You understand. It doesn't bother you, but you wish he was by your side now.

His job was complicated, and he explained that he couldn't tell you much from it. As far as you know, he's in Spain, rescuing someone. You don't know who, but it must be someone important.

11:55 PM. Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes until another return to the sun happens for you.

You laid down on your bed, covered by the sheets that hugged your body. You took the pillow that Leon usually uses and wrapped both arms around it, seeking comfort to avoid missing him so much.

Tomorrow would be just another day. Sure, your friends will congratulate you, you will receive calls from your family at extremely early hours of the morning, and you will repeat "thank you, I appreciate it" like a broken recorder for each call and message.

Gifts don't matter, much less a cake, or a party. The only thing you want is for the love of your life to return soon and you can be together.

Rolling between thoughts, you were able to fall asleep.

12:00 PM. Finally your birthday.

Your cellphone vibrated with every message that one of your friends or your family sent you congratulations. The light from the device breaks into your not-so-deep sleep, since not even ten minutes had passed since you closed your eyes.

Sheet off you, you stopped hugging the pillow and with a soft grunt reached for your phone, checking notifications with squinted eyes.

You lowered the brightness of your cell phone because of that annoying burning in your eyes and now with more comfort, you wandered around the notifications you had, until one caught your attention completely.

Leon ♡: "Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much."

A smile began to form on your face, and without hesitation you unlocked your cell phone to answer him.

Thanks, Lee :( I miss you and I love you

You weren't expecting a response, after all, he must be busy, right? In Spain it must have been your birthday hours ago, but he still bothered to wait for it to come where you are.

Leon ♡: I miss you too, how have you been?

You didn't think he would have time to respond, but you also didn't want to spend three days without hearing from him, so you took advantage of the opportunity.

I've been fine... I haven't done much, just work and back home :( how about you?

Leon ♡: Tired, but all good. Missing you most of all the time. Tell me, have you done anything interesting?

Does missing you count? :[

Leon ♡: Yeah, it counts, sweet thing. I want to tell you something, okay? But let me call you first.

The fact that he was going to call you made you feel good, he may not be with you on your birthday and he is supposed to arrive days later, but one call is enough to lift your spirits.

You were going to answer but your screen lit up with your boyfriend's contact name and the buttons to answer or hang up the call. You pressed the green button and put it on speaker, placing your phone on your chest with a smile. "Hi..."

"Hello, birthday girl." His voice... You could spend hours listening to him speak, even if he was talking about the most boring topic in the world, you would pay attention from start to finish. "How's my baby doing?"

You giggled, there really wasn't much to say, your birthday had started less than an hour ago, "No crazy, exciting party... My friends have congratulated me, as has my family. My parents must be asleep at this time, so I guess when they wake up they'll call me."

"Yeah, they must be resting at this time, huh. You should, too. It's only because of your birthday that you stay up so late." He answered and you could hear his smirk over the phone, making you blush slightly.

"Of course not... I can sleep late whenever I want." And even if you wanted to, you know it's not possible. Once you get home from work and settle into your boyfriend's arms to sleep, you fall deeply into the arms of Morpheus. It's hard not to sleep well when you have a giant boyfriend pillow. "I can't sleep without you here."

"I know, baby, I know... I can't sleep without my sweet girl hugging me like a damn teddy bear." He chuckled and you did it too. Both of you fell into a small silence, it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. "Hey, baby?" He began, as you settled into the sheets.

"Mhm?" You asked, as you looked at the moon through your bedroom window. Her brilliance seeped in and was strong and radiant.

Watching the moon always gave you a certain comfort, knowing that no matter where Leon is, both of you will always be under the same moon and firmament of stars.

A laugh came through the speaker of your cell phone, the same laugh that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Did you see how beautiful the moon is?"

You smiled, humming a small "mhm" in response, before adding, "Yeah... It's full and very pretty. I wish you were here to watch it together."

Leon let out a small sigh, "Yeah, me too, what if you ask the moon for that?" You chuckled this time. It was a silly thing to do, but, why not?

"Like a birthday wish? But if you know it then it won't come true." Leon could hear the pout in your voice, and he smiled to himself. "Maybe there will be an exception this time." He murmured. "Come on, babe. Do it."

With your eyes closed, you let out a sigh, wishing with all your being that Leon could be by your side as soon as possible, and after a few seconds, you heard him speak, "Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I did... Time to wait I guess." Your gaze met that radiant crater that was seen in its maximum splendor, until something began to click in your head.

"Did you see how beautiful the moon is?" There is supposed to be approximately six hours between your location and Spain, so it was impossible for Leon to see the moon shining in its entirety, but you tried not to give too much thought to the matter, since the moon can also be seen during the day, although at lower exposure.

But if he talked about the moon... And how big it looked... That could mean that maybe he...

"The stars look very bright too." He added after.

"But, you know what I think is more bright?" He began, while his footsteps were heard on the cement, signaling that he had begun to walk.

Until he stopped.

"The brightest thing I'm going to see is your face when you look out the window."

That made you get up from your bed, phone in hand while with clumsy steps thanks to the sheets rolled up between your legs, you reached the window and realized everything.

He is here.

And when he saw that look light up on your face, he knew that the moon was nothing compared to how radiant you looked. "Hey, birthday girl."

It seems like the moon was the perfect alibi for Leon to sneak in and surprise you.

Or simply the moon heard your wishes, and fulfilled them on your special day.

a/n: OKAY... I'M STILL NERVOUS I PUT THIS ON THREE DIFFERENT GRAMMAR CHECKERS BUT I'M STILL AFRAID i suck at writing tbh but this idea was scratching my brain and i thought Hmm why not SO!!! i hope y'all like it :] i appreciate likes and reblogs annnnnd comments i love comments!!! feel free to give me tips to be better at writing or something THAT'S ALL BYE-BYE 🤲🏻

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy fic #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy re4r #um... yeah first time writing KINDA NERVOUS #i love this guy

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jaeyunluvr · 2 months

Text

just for you (p.js)

"i wanna get married." you say as you drown in the warmth of your boyfriend's embrace. the tv played soft noises in the background, as it's light illuminated his face, changing hues from time to time.

jay perks up at your statement.

"to whom?"

you laugh at his question. "who else? to my oh so loving boyfriend." you say as you eye him dreamily.

it was the absolute truth and you swore it came from the bottom of your heart. everything about jay was so dear to you. the way he looked at you, the way he held your hand oh so gently, the way he cooked your meals for you, pouring all his love into it. the way he spoke to you, the way he held you against his chest like you were everything to him. the way he would surprise you with little gifts at random times. "it's the little things that count, sweetheart." he would say.

the thought of spending your whole lifetime with such a perfect man by your side, giving you all the love in the world. it made you feel dizzy with happiness. there was nothing you wanted more than this.

"i think that's quite a huge long term plan, sweetheart." he spoke with a slight giggle.

"yes it is." you said, the smile on your face getting ever so bright. "but i think it's the only long term plan i have for my life."

jay's heart swelled. he utterly adored the way you said it. the smile on your face gave away all of your thoughts. he could read you clearly. he knew all about your silly thoughts of running away with him and living in a cottage in a little village. you've talked about it before.

and oh yes he remembers. he remembers every little thing you talk about and every tiny detail about you. it's his way of showing love. showing that you're being noticed, showing that you're being looked after, showing that he took interest in you, showing that he cared.

thinking about it, jay wanted to spend the rest of his life with you too. he loved you despite your imperfections. hell, he thought you were perfect. he loved how you always showed concern towards him. he loved how you appreciated the effort he puts into everything he does. he loves how you sense it when he's feeling down, and pull him into one of the softest hugs ever. "i will take away all of your worries baby" you'd say.

"does this mean i have to buy you a ring?" he says playfully and you narrow your eyes at him.

"is that what you inferred from what i've said?" you say pouting at him.

"i mean yes, but that also means i wanna get married to you too. so badly actually." he pressed his lips against yours, leaving a lingering peck, dripping with love.

moments like this, made you feel that this man was made just for you and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

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astraystayyh · 10 months

Text

Fic recs

some of the fics I've read on here that really left a mark on me. some of them contain smut and i will mark them as such, mdni with those!

the dating experiment | hyunjin x reader. slow burn. fluff. angst. fake dating. @caseiloveu

one of my fav hyunjin fics, the whole setting is so cute and if you love pining you'll love this!

adulthood can wait | jeongin x reader. fluff. reassurance. @inniejeonginnie

the sweetest innie fic. it made me feel very seen and comforted on a topic that makes me anxious!!

wedding cake samples | felix x reader. fluff. @caseiloveu

this was sooo cute. the idea is original too and their relationship was the cutest.

evermore | hyunjin x reader. non idol!au, slow burn. barista hyunjin. fluff. smut. @staytheword

one of the first hyunjin fics i read on here but i still remember it!! it's so well written and their relationship is so soft :(

nothing, everything | han x reader. angst. comfort. @inniejeonginnie

the softest han comfort. truly felt like drinking warm tea on a cold day.

jealousy, jealousy! | series of ot8 x reader where the boys/reader are jealous. some of them have smut. @candlewaxandp0lar0ids

i remember i read all the 8 parts of this series in one go, i loved how it was written and how natural it flowed!

royal guard!minho x princess!reader | fluff, angst, light smut @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

i love royal aus and this was amaaaazing!!!!! loved LOVED the tension that comes with forbidden love

better left unsaid | minho x reader. angst. @felixore

i read this so long ago but i remember thinking THIS IS REAL ANGST. loved it

eighteen | best friend seungmin x reader. university au. slow burn. fluff. angst @soobnny

ONE OF THE BEST seungmin fic on this app!! read this at 3am and i couldn't pause it because it got me hooked LOVED it sm!!!!!

the things we define as love | seungmin x reader. university au. strangers to lovers. fluff @soobnny

another AMAZING seungmin fic (you're the best seungmin writer on here), i remember reading it and thinking this is pure poetry

in between | jeongin x reader. angst. fluff. mutual pining. @inniejeonginnie

the perfect combination of angst and fluff that makes you want to reach inside your phone to make the characters CONFESS

what I'm looking for | seungmin x reader. strangers to lovers. hidden identity (escaping from a marriage). fluff. hurt/comfort. @rachalixie

reading this felt like finding shelter on a stormy day. i loved it so much. seungmin brainrot that's all i have to say.

butterfly bandage | bang chan x reader. uni au. fluff. angst. smut. @subskz

one of the best written pieces I've ever read, truly. this series amazes me and i don't want it to end. so so beautifully written.

the enemies to lovers project | minho x reader. enemies to lovers. uni au. slight angst. fluff. @softukiyos

I LOVED THIS SMM. the progress of their relationship felt so real and the idea is so original too. such a delight to read.

bunny | neighbor minho x reader. strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut. @tasteleeknow

such a comforting read!!! i loved the way minho was portrayed as the gentlest man to exist. which he is!!!!!

everything and no one | minho x reader. maidservant!reader x prince!minho. forbidden love. smut. @tasteleeknow

one of my favorite written pieces as well. the soap detail really stuck with me and the progress was so beautiful, wish i could read it for the first time again.

red | chan x reader. fluff. angst with a happy ending. @rachalixie

this was a poetic trip through Taylor's song red. loved LOVED the way it was written and the symbolic of the color red.

i didn't accidentally love you | hyunjin x reader. fluff. uni au. @amelee23

poetry club and poetic writing. one of the cutest hyunjin fics ever that made me giggle so hard.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #fic rec #skz recs #sahar's.thoughts <3

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delwrites · 2 months

Text

Mundane Life

pure fluff with sirius black

(i cannot stress how fluffy this is, softest thing i've ever written)

“Okay baby, what colour would you like today?” his wolfish grin sends you into a frenzy, eyes dropping to the multitude of nail polish bottles in a box which his ring-clad hands had taken ahold of. A soft indie rock playlist played gently in the background, Tommy’s Party by Peach Pit having just started, the intro making a faint smile come onto his face as he jostles the box around, making the colours fly around too.

After you pick your favourite colour from the options, you hand it to him and place your hands palm-down on a cushion that he had placed down for you. These softer moments were always your favourite with him, where he’d be calm enough to be present and still with you, a small smile always on his face, his raspy voice softly singing along to the playlist he’d made for you, music being the easiest way for him to express his feelings for you. It frustrated him often, not being able to fully express his love for you. He just feels it bottled up inside, having no clue how to put the strong emotions into words, so he lets his favourite artists do it for him.

He grabs hold of the sleeves of your (read: his) jumper, rolling them up for better access to your hands, seeing as his sleeves drown your hands, making his job much harder. The simple, domestic action caused a blush to spread across your cheeks, something that happened often with how tender he always was with you. You don’t remember a time he’s ever raised his voice at you, knowing how much it hurts and never wanting to inflict that on you himself. He can’t ever begin to imagine using his touch in a harsh way with you, and he proves this to you every day with his forbearing touches, restrained squeeze on your hip, barely there hand on the dip of your back, guiding you through crowds, hand combing through your hair as he urges your head into his chest, bringing you the comfort of being surrounded by him and him alone, fully trusting him with your life.

As he gets started on your right hand, you get the opportunity to study his face, no walls up, no faking his happiness because he thinks he has to play this optimistic, funny caricature he’s created by accident. No, around you he can always be unapologetically, unequivocally himself.

As the next song plays (Darling by Christian Leave), he grabs your hand off of the cushion, torso moving down slightly to blow on the nails he had just painted, manoeuvring your hand with a gentility his other friends wouldn’t even think him capable of. Once he deemed his work acceptable, he placed a delicate kiss on your hand, before urging you to place your left hand down on the cushion for him to continue his work.

“You look so pretty like this, Siri.” You weren’t wrong. Earlier on in the evening, he had let you take his hair back in one of your girliest clips, putting it up for him, even though his unruly curls rebelled, strands falling out the front to frame his face over time. He even had some makeup on left over from when he’d insisted you do it for him that morning, large hands pulling your thighs to sit on his lap so you could be close enough to him to do a thorough job.

He smiles a genuine smile, one he reserves for very few people, and caps the nail polish bottle to place a calloused hand on the side of your face, thumb caressing your cheek as he looks at you with so much love in his eyes. You could feel your breathing sync up, hearts intertwined and beating as one. The stillness in the room made a calming peace envelop the both of you, as if you were the only ones in the world.

You revelled in the fact that he could just hold you like this, you both just staring at each other with so much love and admiration for the other, so much trust in your relationship that even if any doubts were to ever overcome one of you, you’d know you could sort it out easily. The fact that you could both just sit with one another like this, not needing to kiss, not needing anything to be said, just knowing that you love each other and that was all that mattered. You knew you meant as much to him as he meant to you, having helped each other through everything you’d had to endure so far, and were bound to endure in the future.

“Cmon Pads, you’ve still got another hand to do” you said through a cheeky smile, one which had him laughing, so softly you’d almost mistaken it to only be meant for himself.

“Cmere, little minx” with that, he takes your left hand, being sure to give that one its respective kiss too before starting to paint again.

“Such soft hands”, it’s barely a whisper, the Great Sirius Black not being able to trust his voice enough in your presence, the effect you have on him being monstrous. It was no surprise to you that he liked your hands, the level of trust and comfort you’d achieved with each other not having come from secrets, after all. The main reason they were soft in the first place was because he was always smothering them in hand cream, a habit he’d picked up for himself from his years of guitar playing, which he was more than happy to pass onto you. He was always grabbing one of your hands to hold onto as you walked the streets, or even just laying together, fiddling with your fingers, placing his ring on your ring-finger, muttering to himself about ‘one day…’.

Once he’d finished his artwork, he grinned proudly at you, lopsided and true, straightening up to sit perched on his knees, grabbing at your hands to better show you his work. You couldn't help the smile that overtook you as he boasted about how good a job he'd done, leaning over his makeshift nail station to place a kiss to his hairline, where his hair met his forehead, saying that you thought they looked simply beautiful.

"Thank you darling, truly. My turn!"

i'm honestly super proud of this :) thank you so much for reading!!

#sirius black imagine #sirius x you #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius x y/n #sirius fluff #sirius black fluff #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders #marauders headcanon #sirius black drabble

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justice4canyonmoon · 1 year

Note

something about y/n losing her virginity to harry? please

I hope you enjoy almost 3k words of the softest filth I've ever written 😉 Also, I pictured this as LHH (my beloved) so that's why he's described as having long hair!

warnings: smut!! 18+ only!! vaginal fingering, nipple play (briefly), p in v sex, loss of virginity, innocent reader, soft dom! harry

WC: 2.8 k

Your parents always told you to wait until marriage. Said it wasn’t “ladylike” to give yourself to someone before you were truly dedicated to one another for life. And for a long time you believed them. But now, you were about to graduate college, and you still hadn’t had sex. Your friends all had: Sarah, Mitch, Adam, Harry, Niall, and all of the other people you hung out with found someone to suit them (with Mitch and Sarah it was each other, which you all totally called your freshman year). But you still hadn’t. And you had to say, you didn’t really believe your parents anymore. You wanted to see what the fuss was about. And you wanted it with Harry.

You had always had a bit of a crush on him: the long curls, bright green eyes, full lips, and dimple had drawn you in when you first met in your math class, but his sweet smile, gentle laugh, and kindness made you fall head over heels. Every time he got a new partner, your heart broke a little more, and every time he broke up with them, it healed again. You went through this vicious cycle all throughout your schooling, but tonight, you thought maybe you could break out of it. Harry had been single throughout your whole senior year, and your friends were hanging out at his place tonight. Maybe you could get him alone…

“Alright, I think you’ve had a few too many, Mitch. I’ll get him home.”

Sarah held her boyfriend up, still giggling at how he could barely get up from the chair. Adam had already gone home, since he had an 8-page final essay due for his writing class, and Niall hadn’t been able to come since he was studying for his music theory final. As soon as Harry finished helping Sarah get Mitch out to her car, he came back to find you still on his couch, taking a small sip from the bottle of hard cider you had been drinking. You purposefully didn’t drink enough to get you drunk, wanting to remember this. Sure, this could go horribly wrong and Harry could reject you and not want to be your friend again. But maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way as you. And you would get what you wanted.

“Will you need a ride home? Or are you okay to drive?” he asked.

You smiled, “I’ve only drank one bottle of cider. I’ll be fine, H.”

He smiled back, sitting beside you once more, “Can’t believe it’s almost over. I’ll miss you all when we go.”

“Me too,” you replied, “but I think I’ll miss you the most.”

Harry quirked up a brow, his smile becoming more of a smirk, “Oh, really? And why would that be?”

You sighed, pushing down your nerves and steeling yourself for a potential rejection.

“Because I want you, H. As more than just my friend.”

You paused, waiting for his answer. You locked eyes, trying to read his expression, but it was unusually blank. There was silence. A bit too much. Then his response.

“I wish you had told me that earlier. Before we were about to move home.”

You took one of his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I’ve liked you for so long, Harry. But it seemed like every time I worked up the nerve to say something, you’d be with someone else. I didn’t want that to happen again, so I just didn’t say anything,” you explained.

His eyes softened, holding a twinge of guilt, “Only dated other people because I didn’t think I could be yours. Didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“I felt the same way. Except I just stayed single because I’m a loser,” you joked.

A frown stretched across his lips, “No, you’re not. Don’t say things like that.”

“Well no one’s ever fucked me, so I think that might be true.”

And there it was. The invitation you wanted to send. You could only hope that he would accept.

Harry looked you in the eyes, his expression unusually serious compared to the bright eyed, joyful man you’d come to know.

“I don’t ever want you to think that about yourself. You’re such a lovely person, could never be a loser,” you smiled bashfully at that, but he continued, “and, well, if you’d like to change that…”

He trailed off, knowing you would know what he meant.

“I do, Harry,” you pulled him closer to you, your knees touching because of your close proximity, “I want that with you. I just wouldn’t really know where to start.”

He let go of your hand in favor of cupping your jaw, brushing his thumb against your soft skin, “Would you like me to teach you?”

You nodded, feeling a bit too shy to speak now. Harry smiled reassuringly, gently resting his other hand on your thigh.

“Let me know what you feel comfortable with, okay?”

“Okay,” you managed to get out.

That was all he needed before his lips were on yours.

They were just as soft as you imagined: plush, pink, and experienced as they moved against your own. You had kissed someone before, so this was at least familiar territory. But soon, he pulled you into his lap, his long curls tickling your skin as he deepened the kiss. You couldn’t help but gasp softly in surprise as his hands moved from cupping your cheek to wrapping around your waist. You felt almost dizzy, and it was just a kiss.

Harry pulled away then, looking deep into your eyes, “Still okay?”

You nodded, but he shook his head, “Need you to tell me. I want to make sure I have your full permission for everything we do.”

Your heart swelled. You doubted you’d find any other man who would treat you like this.

“I’m okay, Harry. Still a little nervous.”

He smiled, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you. May I take this off?”

You hadn’t even noticed he was tugging on your shirt, but his question brought it to your attention.

Remembering his request, you said, “Yes, H.”

You lifted your arms above your head as he undressed you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit shy at your exposed position, moving your arms to cover yourself.

“Fucking beautiful,” Harry cooed, gently unwrapping your arms from your torso, “don’t need to hide from me, baby, you’re so damned pretty.”

Heat rose to your cheeks again as you mumbled a bashful “thank you.”

“Here, I’ll take mine off too.”

You gawked as Harry stripped his shirt off, revealing his toned and tattooed torso.

“Glad you’re enjoying the show,” he quipped as he stood from the couch, “but I’m not doing any more until we get to the bedroom. Not taking your virginity on my couch.”

You broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed as you stood up as well, “I didn’t mean to stare, H.”

He gently gripped your hips and leaned forward, lips brushing your ear, “I want you to look, darling.”

As quickly as he stepped into your space, he left it, walking the short distance to his bedroom and gesturing for you to follow. You did, still flustered as you walked past him into the familiar space. Harry closed the door behind you, despite the two of you being alone, and sat on the bed, patting his lap.

“Come here, baby.”

You quickly obeyed, sitting on his lap.

He cupped your face in his hands again, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. It’s okay if we don’t go the whole way today, just want you to feel safe.”

“I’ll tell you, I promise. But I don’t think anything you’ll do will make me feel uncomfortable,” you answered honestly, making him smile.

He leaned in and kissed you again, reintroducing the familiar motions. You went along happily, already addicted to his kisses. But soon, he was gently laying you back until your back was against the mattress. Harry’s hands traveled down your body, stopping at your bra.

“May I?”

“Of course, H.”

He unhooked your bra, throwing it onto the ground carelessly as he took in your fully topless torso. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing against your nipples. You jumped from his touch, making him chuckle.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he remarked before replacing his thumbs with his lips, licking and sucking at your pert nipples.

You gasped, grabbing at his luscious curls, “Oh, Harry.”

You felt him smile against you as he continued his ministrations. You barely noticed his hands traveling down until they tugged at the zipper of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking permission.

You nodded, lifting your hips, “Please, H, take them off.”

Harry obliged, undoing the zipper and button of your jeans and tugging them down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He lifted his head and drank you in, tugging down the cotton fabric until you were bare before him. Just like before, you felt a bit shy from the attention, but Harry wasn’t letting you cover up.

“Shit, baby, you’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be.”

You had lost count of the amount of times you blushed, “Y-you thought about this?”

“So many times,” he confessed, “wanted to be the first one who made you feel good.”

“I’ve wanted that too. For so long. But you can’t do that if you still have your pants on,” you teased.

He chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. Want to help me?”

You nodded eagerly, tugging the zipper down on his ridiculously tight jeans and helping to shove them down his thick thighs. Now all that was separating you was his boxers. There was a sizeable tent in the fabric, and Harry laughed softly again when he caught you staring.

“Want me to take those off, too?”

You nodded, not bothering with words since he knew how needy you were. He guided your hand to the waistband of his underwear, encouraging you to drag them down. And you did so happily.

Holy shit, he was big.

Of course, this was the first time you had seen a cock, so you supposed you didn’t have much to go off of. But it looked big.

Harry could see the nerves return to your expression, “Don’t worry, lovely. It won’t hurt. I’ll open you up a bit first. Lay back down.”

You listened, laying your head back on the plush pillows as Harry leaned forward, hovering above you. His hands gently ran along your thighs. You knew he was doing it to make sure that you were comfortable, but quite honestly, you were beginning to get a little impatient.

“Want it, H. Need your fingers.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Not so shy anymore, hm? Am I making you wait too long?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer his question, running his fingers through your folds to collect your wetness on his fingers. The response you would’ve had came out as a choked moan as you watched him slip his fingers into his mouth.

“Taste so fucking good,” Harry groaned, “definitely eating this perfect pussy next time.”

Heat rose to your cheeks once more at the implication that there would be a next time. But you didn’t have much of a chance to think about it as he used those fingers to spread your pussy open.

“So pretty,” he murmured almost to himself, dragging his fingers through your wet folds.

“Please, Harry,” you whined, tired of being teased.

He smiled at you, “Don’t worry, baby. Said I’d take care of you.”

And his first finger entered you, stretching your entrance in a way it hadn’t been before. Sure, you’d used your own fingers and a toy or two. But it was so different in the best way when someone else did it.

“Shit,” you gasped as he stretched you open, smirking at how tight you were against just one of his fingers.

“Relax for me, baby. Gonna need at least one more finger, if not two to make sure you’re nice and ready for me.”

You willed yourself to relax, allowing yourself to sink into the pillows as he pressed inside of you. He pulled out completely before re-entering with two fingers, making you moan out in pleasure.

“Oh fuck! Harry!”

“That’s it, beautiful. Look so good taking my fingers like this,” he praised, curling his fingers inside of you, “bet you’ll look even prettier with my cock.”

“Want it, Harry, please,” you begged.

“Not yet, pretty. Need to make sure you’re nice and stretched open for me.”

He took his sweet time, teasing you with the slow drag of his fingers. The sounds coming from your pussy were obscene, wetness squelching around his fingers as he fucked you. You could feel the coil in your belly and your pussy clenched around him.

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Can feel you squeezing me.”

You nodded, already too far gone to speak. Harry smirked, then leaned in to suck your clit.

You saw stars, vision becoming slightly fuzzy as you experienced the best orgasm of your life. He fucked you through it, fingers not stopping as you soaked them.

“That’s it, pretty. So good for me,” he praised.

When you came down from your high, Harry smirked at you, “Think you're ready for this cock, baby?”

“Please, Harry! Need to feel you in me, please,” you begged, not particularly caring if you sounded desperate.

He rolled a condom over his cock and lined himself up with your entrance.

Harry’s expression turned serious again, “Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts at all.”

You nodded, “I will, H, promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and kissed you softly as his tip breached your entrance. You gasped softly: if you thought his fingers stretched you out, it was nothing compared to the girth of his cock. Harry murmured soft encouragements into your skin as he slowly entered you, filling your pussy for the first time. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, the only sounds escaping your lips were broken whimpers. Soon, he was fully sheathed inside of you, making you the fullest you had ever been in your life.

“Harry,” you whined.

He smiled at you, lovingly brushing your hair from your face, “Feel okay, baby?”

You nodded, “So full. Move, please?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no if you asked so politely. So slowly, he rolled his hips, testing the waters. The sweet moan that spilled from your mouth was enough confirmation that you were ready. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a slow yet still somehow relentless pace as he fucked you. Choked gasps and whines fell from your lips with abandon as Harry pounded you. It was absolute bliss. He looked like an angel, long hair framing his perfect face as his brow was furrowed in concentration, determined to make you feel good.

“So good, Harry,” you managed to gasp out to assuage his worries.

He smiled then, lips brushing your temple as he continued his slow, yet powerful thrusts, “Yeah? You like it?”

“Love it,” you moaned as he brushed a spot inside of you, “Right there, H.”

“Here?” he asked cheekily as he hit that spot again, turning you into a pile of mush.

Harry sped up a bit, sensing that you could take more. You moaned desperately as he continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you with every thrust. His cock filled you deliciously, and quite honestly, you didn’t know how you went without it until now.

“Fuck, feel like I’m gonna cum soon, your pussy is just too perfect. Are you close, pretty?”

You nodded, feeling the coil in your belly once more, “So close, Harry! Please!”

“Need you to cum so I can. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he commanded.

One of his thumbs moved between your bodies, skillfully rubbing your clit. You writhed around his as your orgasm slammed into you, completely taking your breath away. Somehow, it was even better than the first one, your vision blurring even more as you clenched around him. You vaguely heard yourself whimpering his name brokenly as he spilled into the condom, groaning as he found his release. You were brought back to reality from the feeling of his lips brushing against yours, and you responded to his kiss as best you could.

He smiled, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, “Was that good for you, baby?”

“Absolutely perfect, Harry. Thank you,” you answered shyly, running your fingers through his curls.

You may not be going to college together anymore in a few weeks, but you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. Not when he treated you better than any other man possibly could.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles request

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dilf-lover99 · 1 year

Text

Playing Pretend | J.P.

Pairing: James Potter x Female Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: When Reader's best friend James requests her assistance capturing the attention of Lily Evans, the two decide to make some changes to their relationship. Sort of.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers / fake dating (two superior tropes), not much of a slow burn (sorry guys), a healthy amount of pining, maybe a teeny bit of angst if you squint, a kiss, i think that's it this is like the softest thing i've ever written

Word Count: 5.1k

a/n: i'm sorryyyyyy !!! i'm sorry i ghosted you, i promise it was an accident ! i've been working a TON lately, but i finally found a bit of time to write and i missed it so much. i hope this was worth the wait ! let me know what you think. p.s. love u lots<3

There were three things in life of which you were certain.

The first is that, no matter how skeptical one may be, the sorting hat irrefutably knows best. Being sorted into Gryffindor on your first day at Hogwarts was the greatest thing that ever happened to you, it introduced you to the friends who became your family.

The second is that you will never, swear on Merlin’s beard, read a book you’ve borrowed from Remus in the bath; Some lessons are best learned after making mistakes.

The third, and most important, is as follows : James Fleamont Potter is, and always will be, your very best friend.

You’re confident that there’s nearly nothing in the world the two of you wouldn’t do for each other if asked.

James has always been there for you in times of need, with a comforting embrace or a ludicrously ill-advised joke. He always talks out your problems with you, agreeing with your side of the situation even when you think you’re in the wrong.

There’s not a single problem the two of you haven’t been able to overcome together.

You’ve also spent countless waking hours of your life pretending to hold a flicker of interest in the precise mixture of colours in Lily Evans’ eyes, the scent of her hair, or wether or not she laughed at James’ joke that day.

The price of friendship, you suppose.

“This is the year, (y/n), I can feel it!” Your bespectacled best friend announces from his position sprawled across your bed on his stomach.

You withhold the good-natured urge to roll your eyes, exhaling an small breath through your nose with a smile, “You say that every year, James.” Ceasing the previous circles you were spinning in your desk chair, you make eye contact with James and continue, “Though I admire your persistence, perhaps it’s time to give it a rest? Maybe take up another hobby? Clearly quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough to leave Evans be.”

“Ha Ha.” James grumbles sarcastically. The two of you have conversations like this regularly, though your attempts to divert his interests have consistently proven futile. “It’s different this year. I’m different this year. I’m trying something new,” He slowly pulls himself up from his relaxed position, now sitting at the edge of the bed to face you directly, “If you agree to my plan, that is.”

“Well, that depends,” You hesitate, eyeing your best friend suspiciously. Over the course of your friendship you’ve always had a difficult time saying no to James, which has gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble.

“Is there any part of this plan that could result in our expulsion? Or worse- Will my hands be stained again? It took me weeks to get the dye off my fingers after your last so called plan.”

Without recounting each and every detail, James’ last plan involved the two of you, a pint of florescent pink hair dye, and the head of an unsuspecting Severus Snape, and resulted in semi-permanent dye-stained hands and a rather stern talking-to from Dumbledore.

James laughs mirthfully at the memory, “Come on, people loved that! We loved that!”

“Yes, we did.” You agree with a grin despite yourself.

James throws a wink your way, shaking his head amusedly before speaking again, “No, this’ll be nothing like that. Entirely free of repercussions, I swear it.” His tone resembles that of when he’s asking you for a favour, and judging by the way he’s dancing around the words, you have a feeling you’re not going to welcome his idea with open arms.

“Alright, Potter. Out with it, will you?” You voice lightly, “It can’t be worse than any other plan you’ve had.”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” He rushes out, the shadow of a blush forming evenly across his pale cheeks at his own words.

“O-kay,” You draw out, eyes wide, “Perhaps I was wrong.”

“I know it sounds mad, but hear me out.” He starts quickly, “I was talking to Pads about it and he was all ‘Maybe if you weren’t so available all the time, she’d actually want you around’” He lowers his voice an octave, a dramatized attempt at impersonating your shared friend, “And I know what you’re going to say, ‘Why would you take relationship advice from Sirius of all people’” His voice raises higher now as he butchers an impression of your own, “But he had a point! And I thought, well, I wouldn’t be available if I had a girlfriend, would I?”

You’re unsure if you should interrupt him or not, equal parts amusement and disapproval swirl around in your brain as he speaks.

“But I couldn’t do that to a real girl, y’know?” If he notices the icy glare you shoot his way at this, he does a bang-up job pretending he doesn’t, “Just string her about whilst I’m in love with Evans- But I could pretend! And who better to pretend with than my own best girl?” He finishes with a smile so sweet you almost forget the preposterous nonsense he’s just spouted.

Almost.

“There are about ten things wrong with what you’ve just said- Eleven if you count that horrible impression of me! Merlin, James, do I really sound like that to you?” James chuckles at you, running his lithe fingers through the charming mess of his curls.

“Don’t answer that.” You speak before he has a chance to reply, abandoning your chair in favour of standing in front of him.

“You really have gone mad, haven’t you? What exactly do you think is going to happen? She’ll see us together and be overcome with jealousy? Leaving her no choice but to confess her undying love for you?” You highlight the absurdity of his proposition, poking fun with dramatic sighs and emphatic hand gestures.

“Well it sounds a bit nutty when you say it that way, with your sarcasm and the like, but yes. That’s what I’d like to happen.”

“It’s not going to happen, James.” You deadpan.

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how it works!” You state, humour and disbelief mingling together, “If she doesn’t want you now, why’d she want you after you get a girlfriend? And if she did, would that really be the type of girl you’d fancy anyhow? A boyfriend-wanter?”

James chuckles amusedly, completely missing the nuance of your words, “Boyfriend-wanter?” He echoes teasingly.

You sigh emphatically, taking a seat on the bed beside your best friend, “You’ve lost the plot, mate.”

James’ previous contentment is no longer at the forefront of his emotions, instead there’s a vulnerable sincerity that tugs at your heart strings with all its might. “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but if there’s even a chance of it working, I just- I have to try, (y/n),” His warm hazel eyes are boring directly into your own with a distinct sense of desperation as he mutters a final, “Please?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, James.” Your voice wavers with nerves at the thought of walking hand-in-hand with James into the Great Hall where all your friends sit, blissfully unaware of the delusional plan James has concocted to win the affections of Lily Evans.

“Come on, (y/n), it won’t be so bad. You used to love holding my hand.” James jests with an irritatingly loveable grin, not-so-subtly referencing the ancient crush you harboured toward him in the beginning of your first year.

“Yes, very well, James. I had a crush on you when I was eleven. I also slept with a Beatles nightlight and cut the crusts off my toasts.” You’re starting to wonder how on earth you could’ve agreed to this when James grabs your hand, intertwining his slender fingers with your own and giving a gentle, reaffirming squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this. I know it’s barmy, truly, but it means everything that you’re willing to try.” His voice is softer than you’ve heard in a long time, and in the back of your mind you can’t help but think this is the boy you’d fancied all those years ago.

You squeeze his hand back assuringly, “I’d try anything for you.” You smile sincerely.

“Oh really? Should you have happened to change your mind about a certain prank involving-”

“Almost anything.” You interrupt with an amused roll of your eyes.

The two of you share another smile before turning toward the looming entryway to the Great Hall.

“Shall we, darling?” James emphasizes the final word teasingly.

“We’d best, before I change my mind, love.” You retort.

You’re familiar with the expression ‘so silent, you could hear a pin drop’ but you’ve never experienced anything of the sort. Until now, that is.

The moment you and James walk through the doors, all eyes are on the two of you. More specifically, all eyes are continuously moving from you, to James, to your intertwined hands, then back again.

In the two days since you agreed to James’ scheme, you’ve remained confident that it wouldn’t work, surely nobody would believe you went from best friends to being in a relationship overnight.

Your confidence was misplaced.

As the two of you walk closer to your usual spot at the Gryffindor table, your hand squeezes James’ tighter than you’d like to admit, painstakingly aware of just how many eyes are on you. You can hear the poorly concealed whisperings of each gossiping classmate you pass by, “Finally!” “See, I told you they were shagging.” “What does he see in her?” The latter may have stung just a bit.

“Alright?” James whispers close to your ear, fuelling another buzz of observations from your peers.

You nod your head perceptibly, a tad caught off guard from all the attention you’re receiving, “Yes, swell. You?”

“To be determined.” James tugs your hand gently, signalling you to stop walking as you’ve reached your destination at the Gryffindor table.

“Good morning.” You greet your friends with a smile in an effort to maintain normalcy. Taking your usual seat, Sirius is on your left and James sits to your right beside Remus. You promised James to keep the plan a secret from everyone, including your shared best friends, but with the way they’re looking at you now, you’re ready to spill your guts.

“Good morning? S’that it then?” Sirius starts incredulously, “The two of you leg it in here holding hands and we’re supposed to go about our day as normal?”

“I think what he means to say,” Remus interjects, his tone soft, a welcome juxtaposition from Sirius’ brash one, “Is that this-” he gestures between you and James with a mild wave of his hand, “Is new. We hadn’t realized the two of you were… Romantically involved.” His statement ends as more of a question, a gentle probe to explain what’s going on.

You look to James, raising your brows questioningly as if to say you've created this plan, now you have to do the ground work.

He gets the message.

“It is a bit out of nowhere, isn’t it?” James smiles, not so subtly making eye contact with Lily, who’s sitting directly across the table, “We spent all these years as friends and never thought twice about it, um- But then…” He trails off, realizing he’s not half as good a liar as he’d hoped he was.

You close your eyes with a deep sigh, knowing it’s now your responsibility to make this believable.

James Potter and his bloody plans.

“It’s alright, James, love,” You speak up after he’s gone silent, “We can tell them.” He’s going to owe you for this, and you intend to cash in the favour for once, “I’ve fancied you as long as I’ve known you.”

Your friends are paying more attention to you now than they have to anything, ever, clinging onto your every word, “Bit embarrassing if I’m honest, cos’ you never really saw me that way.”

You remember hearing once that the most believable lies stem from the truth, and though it was back in year one, and hardly went as deep as you’re leading on, this is a version of how you’d felt about James at one point in time.

You work hard to fight back a chuckle at the look of pity on Dorcas’s face as she takes in your words, “But, I guess after I finally stopped trying to get you to see me that way, that’s when you actually started to.” Now you’re just discussing the plan in plain sight, though your friends are drinking it up quicker than their pumpkin juice.

James squeezes your hand with a firm grip, as if to warn you not to say anything more and spoil his plan right in front of Lily.

But he’s also looking at you with a discernible note of gratitude in his eyes, never quite tiring of your knack for rescuing him in these situations.

“Yes, quite right, love, I’ve seen the light. Thank you all for tuning in, this concludes the interview portion of our breakfast. Now, over to Padfoot for the weather!” James voices deftly, eyes scanning Lily for any semblance of a negative reaction, and failing to hide his displeasure when all she offers in return is a bright smile and a soft “Congratulations, you two!”

That could’ve gone better.

“Figures the first time I’ve a date to one of these things, he’s only going for another girl.” You voice to James in the other room as you struggle to reach the zip on the back of your dress.

You’re joking, though it’s not lost on you that this is the only time someone’s asked you to be their date to a dance. But you aren’t inclined to waste the opportunity. You’ve picked out a lovely dress and your hair is behaving particularly graciously tonight.

“Come on, love, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of offers once our plan takes off. And tonight’s the night! I’ve a good feeling about it.” Ever the optimist, your best friend.

“Oh, bugger off!” You shout frustratedly after multiple unsuccessful attempts at zipping up.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you! I only meant-” James’ panicked tone brings an instant smile to your face, all previous traces of dissatisfaction long gone.

“Not you, James, my dress. I can’t get the bloody zip to go up!”

“Oh,” He chuckles minutely, “Well c’mere then, let me help.”

It’s a proper cliche, you think to yourself. Like something you’d see in a cheesy romance film, when the girl walks down the staircase in a fancy dress, everything’s suddenly in slow motion, and the lad’s just standing there thinking how am I just now realizing how beautiful she is?

It’s a proper bloody cliche, yet it’s exactly how you feel as you walk into the room and see James standing there in his dance attire.

His crisp white dress shirt is clinging faultlessly to his chest and arms, the muscles he’s defined playing quidditch showcasing themselves quite proudly, the black fabric of his dress pants pulled taught against his thighs. His mop of dark curls sits charmingly atop his head, a perpetual vision of captivating chaos. His rounded glasses are resting perfectly on the bridge of his nose, shimmering hazel eyes blinking delicately from behind them.

How are you just now realizing how beautiful he is?

“(y/n)?” James’ voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you’re thankful beyond words that he can’t hear your thoughts.

“Yes?” You clear your throat, simultaneously attempting to clear your mind.

“Turn around, love, I’ll fix your zip.”

Right.

His nimble fingers make quick work, sliding the zip from the small of your back to the top of the dress, a subtle trail of gooseflesh makes itself at home along the skin that’s been gently grazed by his own.

“There we are. Go on then, give us a twirl.” James’ playful voice sounds, you oblige good-naturedly and give a quick spin.

“That’s a lovely dress. Is it new?” His eyes scan your frame appreciatively, not quite as lengthy as the tour your own eyes had taken upon him moments ago, but you feel your chest grow tighter at the thought that, just maybe, he could be having one of those cliche moments too.

“As a matter of fact it is,” Your smile grows as you think back to the day before, when Dorcas dragged you and a reluctant Marlene to Diagon Alley to buy your outfits for the dance, “It’s her first dance with a date! Not just a date, a boyfriend. We have to pick the perfect dress.” She was far more excited than you were, especially considering it isn’t a real date, but her enthusiasm had made it a day to remember. “If Dorcas were here, you’d have just made her entire week.”

“Do you know what Lily’s wearing?”

Not an unexpected question in the slightest.

What is unexpected, however, is the pang in your chest at it.

That’s new.

“No, I don’t. Sorry. ” You say, not particularly sorry at all.

“Are you alright?” James’ voice is laced with confusion at your sudden shift in mood.

Curse your best friend for knowing you so well.

“Mhm. Shall we go?” You place a smile back on your lips, taking care not to let it fall this time.

“After you, your majesty.” James answers in his most posh voice, gesturing toward the door and lowering his head in a mock bow.

It’s not real.

When you first agreed to James’ plan, this thought brought you comfort, peace, even. It’s not real, thank heavens, and it will be over before you know it.

Why does the thought feel so violent now?

Why is it tearing at the seams of your mind with each of his gentle touches and crooked smiles?

Why are you so reluctant to let go of James’ arm when you arrive at the dance?

And why have you spent the last twenty minutes sitting here, watching James watch Lily, as an unwelcome sense of envy blooms in your chest?

Because you wish it was real.

“Oh, come on! That was proper funny!” Sirius’s voice sounds from beside you, pulling you away from your internal revelations.

When did he get here?

“Was it?” You question. Your words come across sarcastic, but that’s a farce, you’ve no idea what he said.

“Yes, it was actually. You were just too busy making eyes at Prongs to notice.”

And when did he get so observant?

“I was not.” You lie.

“Right,” Sirius starts, not believing you for a moment, “This is my life now, is it? My best mates’ll be too busy snogging to laugh at my jokes? What a cruel fate. Worse than death, really. Just put me out of my misery now.” He throws himself back into his chair melodramatically, posture now resembling a sickly figure in an old victorian painting.

What a drama queen.

Still, you feel the need to reassure him. Cutting off his theatrics, you place your hand on his bicep, giving a tender squeeze of affirmation, “Leave it out! I could never be too busy for you,” He straightens at that, lips lifting into a grin as you continue, “You just have to tell funnier jokes.” His grin disappears faster than it formed.

“Cheeky!”

You continue bantering back and forth, resulting in a fit of laughter that finally breaks James’ gaze from Lily.

He focuses his attention on the two of you, unwilling to acknowledge the feeling blossoming in his chest when he sees your hand on Sirius, a brilliant smile having overtaken your face.

“Care to dance, love?” James questions, faster than you have time to process.

You remove your hand from Sirius’ arm, sparing a glance toward Lily. He’s trying to make her jealous, that’s why you’re here after all. But she’s not looking at you and James. In fact, she’s looking in another direction entirely.

“I’m alright mate, thanks. Take (y/n), though.” Sirius quips, ushering you onto your feet.

James guides you to the dance floor with a gentle hand on the small of your back, spinning you in a half circle to hold you properly once you’ve reached your destination.

Your heart is beating at an accelerated pace but you’re doing your damndest to hide it. “Is she looking?” You question softly, hiding any dejection from your voice.

“What’s that?” James asks.

You wonder how he didn’t hear you, his eyes having been glued to you since you started dancing. You were beginning to wonder if you had something on your face.

“Lily,” You start again, “Is she watching us?” You don’t know why you ask again, you’re not sure you want to know the answer.

“Oh. Yes-” James clears his throat, “Yeah, she’s looking.”

Right.

His eyes never actually waver from your own. He doesn’t do much to pretend that he’s spotted her in the crowd or discerned wether she was looking or not. To be honest, he’d forgotten about the plan for a moment.

The song ends but before you can move from James’ hold he pulls you closer, “We should keep dancing.” He mumbles, then continues, almost as an afterthought, “Y’know, make it look more realistic.”

But he couldn’t care less about that right now, he’s simply not ready for you to leave his arms.

It’s been six weeks since the plan started, an entire month and a half of pretending.

And you don’t think you can pretend any more.

Pretending to be James’ girlfriend isn’t the hard part. In fact, it’s the best part. Countless days of holding his hand in the Great Hall and resting your head upon his shoulder in the Gryffindor common room. Those moments are purely blissful.

Pretending that your feelings for James aren’t real? That’s the hard part.

In the beginning, James had started calling you love or darling for show, a way for you to appear more like a real couple. He must have grown accustomed to it, because they’re all he seems to use anymore, even when nobody else is around.

And your heart still skips a beat each and every time you hear it.

Somehow, it’s become routine for you to do your homework while watching his quidditch practices, despite the fact that Lily has only ever seen you there once. You tried explaining this but all James had said was “That’s alright, having you here helps me play better.”

Now you attend every practice.

You don’t know how to respond when your friends tell you how happy they are that you and James have gotten together, that they can tell how deeply you care for him. They’re right, partially anyway, you do care for James deeply.

But you’re not together. Not for real, anyway.

And it’s driving you mad.

Which is why you’ve decided that it has to end.

You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, ever since the night of the dance, when you realized you wanted more. But you weren’t sure what to tell James.

If you tell him the truth, that you’ve fallen for him, it could end your friendship, which is a chance you’re not willing to take. But you’ve also never been good at lying to him, he knows you far too well.

You’ve finally decided on a good old-fashioned half-truth.

You’re going to tell him that the plan hasn’t been working, that if he wants to get Lily’s attention he’ll have to go about it another way. Spending another year watching him pine over Lily won’t be easy, but it can’t be any harder than this; Seeing what a wonderful boyfriend James would be, being so close to the boy you want but never truly being able to have him.

The soft click of your door notifies you of James’ arrival. Taking a final deep breath, you find your eyes meeting his own, willing yourself not to get lost in them and lose your resolve.

“Hello, love. How was your day?” James questions earnestly, taking a seat in your desk chair, his eyes hold an undetectable glimmer of adoration as they take in your figure.

“I think we should break up!” You rush out at once, afraid if you wait another second you’ll chicken out again.

James’ eyebrows pull together in a wistful display of despondence, “What? Why?” His voice is rather melancholy and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being broken up with for real.

You sigh dispiritedly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed as you face James.

“Think about it. The plan isn’t exactly working, is it? I mean, when was the last time you even talked to Lily?”

James is quick to defend, “We’ve just spoken yesterday! In the common room, remember? When you and Moony were talking about that smarty-pants book, she was all ‘your girlfriend’s too good for you, potter’, and I told her she was right. Surely you remember that?”

You fight back a smile at the memory, of course you remember that, you think of his words about as often as you breathe.

“James that was last week.”

He stops for a moment, counting the days on his fingers before deciding you're correct, “Okay… Alright, well, that doesn’t mean we should break up! We’ll just- We just have to try harder.”

You shake your head in opposition, but he speaks again before you have the chance.

“We can make it work, I know it.” James’ voice holds a perceptible air of desperation.

He knows you’re not really dating, right?

“Come on, James, it’s for the best. Surely you’re tired of me by now.” You joke, trying to appear unaffected by the nuance of your words.

“No.” James voices immediately, sounding as though he’s offended at the very idea of it, “I’m not tired of you. I could never be tired of you.”

“Have you any idea how much harder you’re making this?” You mumble under your breath, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unheard by James.

He’s looking at you softly, almost tenderly and he lowers his voice a bit, no longer on edge, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Try again.” James tilts his head, pushing his glasses up when they attempt to slide from the bridge of his nose.

“I just don’t think we should do it anymore, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” He knows very well that’s not all. He can tell by the way you’re avoiding eye contact that there’s more to it.

“Yep! So what do you say, friends?” You finally chance eye contact, holding your hand out to shake his own in an effort to regain control of the situation.

His hand grabs your own and holds it delicately.

“What aren’t you saying?”

“Nothing! I’m saying plenty of things. Loads of things. Things, things, things!”

“(y/n).” He states plainly, though he’s unable to hide the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, “If there’s something going on, you can tell me. We can tell each other anything.” He’s pleading with you now.

And you aren’t sure if it’s his words, or the way he speaks them, or the fact that his hand is still grasping your own, but you’re unable to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“I can’t keep pretending, alright? You’re driving me mad.” Both of your eyes widen at your confession, and James takes his hand back smoothly.

“Oh,” He clears his throat, a teasing undertone returning to his voice, though you can discern a hint of sadness in his eyes, “It’s you who’s tired of me then, innit?”

“What? No! That’s not-” You sigh frustratedly, standing from the bed and beginning to pace a small path back and forth on the floor, “James, if it were possible for me to be tired of you, it would’ve happened a long time ago.”

He breathes out a chuckle at this, visibly relaxing once he realizes he must’ve misunderstood.

You stop pacing, looking at James as he stands up in front of you.

“Can we start this whole thing over? It’s gotten a bit confusing if I’m honest.” You question.

“No, it’s okay. You were right, it’s best we call it off now.” James starts, adding quietly, “Before anyone gets hurt.”

Your gaze snaps up to his own, confusion etched upon your features, “Why- Why would anyone get hurt?” You swallow thickly, ignoring the sudden uptick of your pulse.

James sighs, bringing a hand up and running it through his curls, “Because it’s true. What you said before, about the plan not working. It’s not. And If I’m being honest, I couldn’t care less. I haven’t given a thought to the plan, or Lily, in weeks.”

You know he can’t mean it the way it sounds, he can’t mean it the way you want him to mean it. But your heartbeat is racing rampant at the possibility that he does.

“And it’s why I don’t want to end things,” He continues, “Because, the way I see it, if something makes you sad when it’s ending, it must’ve been pretty wonderful while it was happening.” He’s rambling, but the contents of his words, and the fact that they’re directed at you, makes you want him to go on forever.

“You’re my best friend, and you always will be, I swear it! But, I just… I can’t help but want more.”

You’ve heard enough.

Well actually, you could never hear enough, but you’ve heard enough to propel yourself forward, urgently pressing your lips to James’ own.

He wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t waste a moment once he realizes what’s happening.

James places his calloused hands on either of your cheeks, gently pulling you closer to himself. He smiles slightly into the kiss when you bring one of your own hands up to the nape of his neck and run your fingers softy through the curls there.

The kiss feels as though it’s lasted forever, and yet you never want it to end. But your lips part a fair distance as you rest your foreheads together in contentment, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“So that’s what you meant when you said I was driving you mad.” James teases, donning a grin so beautiful your heart could burst just from looking at it.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” You try to sound annoyed but you’re sure you’re missing the mark, wearing a blinding smile of your own.

“Well that settles it then,” James loops his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, “No more pretending.” His delicate lips meet your own once more in another intoxicating embrace.

Note to self : James Fleamont Potter’s plans don’t always end in disaster.

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cheollipop · 1 year

Text

a hazy evening

navi | taglist

pairing: kim hongjoong x afab!reader

w.c.: 1.8k

tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, reader is not gendered, they're both sososo in love

sharing the last of the earthy smoke, you bid farewell to the dying sun as the sweet scent of honey and citrus enveloped your senses.

warnings: cannabis use, both parties are high, cockwarming, couch sex, fingering (f), unprotected sex (👎🏼), creampie, it's really soft and slow, barely any dialogue, but they're so in love *breaks down*

A/N: thank you anonnie for requesting this, I really hope I was able to do your idea justice!! this, in my opinion, is the softest thing I've ever written. It left me feeling really warm and fluffy inside, so I really hope reading it will have the same effect on you! ^^

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

The room was much darker than it had been when you'd lit the first joint, golden rays of the dying sun filtering through the half-open curtain and casting shadows over the assortment of plants your boyfriend kept bringing home, the cool spring breeze ruffling their leaves where they sat decorating the windowsill. A show you didn’t recognize played on the TV behind you, but your eyes remained fixed on the orb of light kissing the horizon, dipping lower and lower until only a fourth of it remained to colour the sky a soft pink.

A puff of smoke distorted your view, the earthy aroma flooding your lungs and casting a fog over your mind. You adjusted your position, fitting your thighs tighter around Hongjoong’s hips and resting your cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling into the material of shirt before returning your gaze to the cotton candy sky.

Your hips moved on their own, grinding down on his fingers – stuffed inside you – with languid rolls of your hips. The pressure in your lower belly had been building for a while, his digits prodding at your g-spot and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Hongjoong brought his thumb down on your clit, moving it in measured circles while he curled his fingers against your walls.

“Good?” He muttered over your skin, pressing soft kisses to your heated shoulder where the collar of your shirt ended.

“So good,” you whispered back, jaw slack and a pool of drool slowly expanding over Hongjoong’s shirt.

Smoke clouded your vision again, followed by the gentle press of the joint to your bottom lip, your mouth automatically closing around it. Hongjoong’s now free hand smoothed down your back, then slid back up to cup your nape.

“You’re close,” he stated, having felt the familiar fluttering of your walls around his fingers.

You nodded, inhaling the pungent smoke before taking the joint between your index and middle fingers. You kept your mouth closed, blinking unevenly while Hongjoong drove his fingers into you, catching the faint squelching of your arousal every time he pushed in. His thrusts were slow but pointed, roughly punching into the spongy spot along your walls and nearly making you sputter around the smoke in your mouth.

“R-right there,” you sighed, watching the air around you fog up.

Hongjoong had been building you up to an orgasm since the sun first left its locus in the sky, revelling in the soft whimpers he drew out of you. Bending his head down to press his lips to your neck, he peppered kisses over the expanse of your skin while your thighs began to vibrate around him. He flattened the pad of his thumb over your clit, rubbing it from side to side, occasionally brushing his blunt nail over the sensitive nub.

When you finally reached your high, it was as though you were free falling off a cliff, the wind blowing through your hair and open fields embellished with vivid flora spread out for miles under you. Your chest heaved as you blew out the smoke in your lungs, hips jolting as you rode out your orgasm on Hongjoong’s fingers. Butterflies swarmed your insides with every kiss he planted on your skin, his lips trailing up your neck to your ears to nibble on your lobe.

Hongjoong pulled his fingers out at the first pained mewl you released into his shirt, slipping the joint out of your limp hand and bringing it to his lips. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist while he watched the joint grow smaller and smaller, sucking in the last of it before leaning forward with you in his arms to toss it into the heaped ashtray sitting on the coffee table.

Despite his tight hold, your hands flew to his biceps and gripped them so not to fall backwards. Hongjoong remained that way, looking into your equally lidded eyes while leaning over you. Once you realized that you weren’t going anywhere with Hongjoong’s arms around you, one of your hands eased off of his upper arm, instead finding its place over the side of his face. You weren’t sure if it was the weed slowing everything down, but the time in which Hongjoong’s head moved towards yours gave you a chance to admire the softness of his features – tired, love-filled eyes, barely open as they revelled in your presence before him, the tip of his nose a bright red with the remnants of a cold he hadn’t yet fought off entirely, and his smile, laced with unconditional infatuation, forever decorating his face when you were around.

Just like everything else around you, the kiss was unhurried, lazy. Hongjoong sucked your lips between his own before slowly letting them go, only to dive back in for more. The smoke he had been holding in his mouth dissipated into the air between you, until he slotted his lips against yours, parting them with his tongue and exhaling the last of the dying joint down your throat. You choked lightly, a breathy giggle escaping Hongjoong as he watched you struggle with inhaling the smoke, a hint of mischief weaved into the pleasant sound.

Slumping back against the backrest, Hongjoong pulled at your forearms to straighten you up on his lap. He simply sat there, admiring you once again. You wondered why that was: how could someone deserving of a place in the Louvre look at you with such a gaze – one filled with unending adoration, as though you had coloured the magenta sky peeking through the fluttering curtains with nothing but a broken paintbrush? Someone so caring, giving, loving, building you a spacious home within his heart and vowing to teach you the true meaning of love. Hongjoong was love, you were sure. The man who never stopped giving until you begged him to stop, and then gave you even more. Love, comfort, safety – it all came easily to him when you were the recipient.

He maneuvered you until his body was pressed against yours, his chest to your back while you lay on your side. The tips of Hongjoong’s fingers prodded at your mouth, gentle taps against your bottom lip until you registered the motion and allowed him access. Sliding the digits over your tongue, you whimpered at the taste of your arousal, licking over the fresh coat of nail polish on his ring fingernail. You could feel the tent in his sweatpants pressing against your lower back, reaching behind you release his cock from its confines. A soft hiss against your nape, painted nails digging into the skin of your thigh, and you were putty in Hongjoong’s hands, throwing your leg back and over his hip and leading his leaking member to your entrance.

A guttural moan ripped through Hongjoong’s chest when your warmth embraced him, his fingers slipping out of your mouth to wrap tightly around your shoulder. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, pressing himself as close and humanely possible to your body and sheathing his whole length into your pulsing cunt.

You stared at the characters moving on the screen, your lips parted and airy mewls unknowingly escaping you as Hongjoong ground his cock into you, his head brushing over your g-spot with every roll of his hips. The room spun around you, and yet it remained perfectly still, it was loud but quiet, cluttered but empty, so you used up the last of your consciousness to fixate on Hongjoong and allowed him to take over your every sense. Your chest flushed at the tender kisses he peppered onto your skin, one arm wrapped under you and across your chest, the other draped along your side to hold your thigh over his hip, mindlessly squeezing at it. You wondered if it was possible to live in this moment forever, with Hongjoong cemented to your body, warming his cock between your searing walls.

Your eyes followed the actor’s movements, and yet your body relished the leisurely drag along your walls, fucking back into you only to draw out again just as slowly. Just as much as you enjoyed the heavy presence of his cock inside you, the unhurried pace that he’d built up to felt as though you’d smoked twice as much as you actually did. Your body felt weightless and it was as though a divine being had blessed you with his touch, delicate fingers gliding over and squeezing at your heated flesh, sending burning waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Despite his own arousal and desperation, Hongjoong’s hips maintained their sluggish rhythm, ramming his full length into your dripping cunt before pulling out until only the tip remained encased within your walls. The slide back in made your toes curl, his cockhead pressing into your sweet spot then dragging over it. Hongjoong would slip out of you periodically, gliding his cock through your folds and brushing over your swollen clit before pushing back into your cunt.

You felt him breach your entrance, and you were free falling once again, colours flashing across your vision and a whispered succession of Hongjoong’s name rolling off your tongue. Sliding his hand up your trembling thigh, his fingers reached your clit, pressing into the nub and tweaking it to drag out your orgasm. Hongjoong relished the tight squeeze around his twitching cock, your cunt clamping down on him as you rode out your high, your soft moans and whimpers inspiring his next song. He pumped his cock into you once, twice, before hot ropes of cum painted your walls white, grinding into you to milk himself of every last drop.

Your eyes fluttered shut, Hongjoong’s fingers withdrawing to rest over your hip, his chest rising a falling heavily against your back, hot breath blowing onto the slick skin of your nape.

The room was immersed in darkness, the white light from the TV the only source of illumination now that the sun had gone to sleep, diving behind the tall buildings and allowing the full moon to hang in its place. Tufts of grey clouds bedecked the onyx sky, glittering with a plethora of stars dispersed across its width.

They reminded you of Hongjoong’s eyes, so dark yet so bright, full of love, hope, dreams. You couldn’t help but lose yourself within them at times, peculiarly when he was letting you in on his next project, humming the melody he had put together in his mind, his fingers strumming the invisible chords of his guitar. A single look into those dreamy, glimmering orbs and you couldn’t help but believe that you would be more than content simply existing by Hongjoong’s side.

In the stillness of the room, enveloped within Hongjoong’s warm embrace, the dense fog clouding your mind lulled you to restful slumber, carrying with you thoughts of a future permeated by the sweet scent of honey and citrus.

apply for my taglist here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#kim hongjoong #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez #ateez scenarios #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong x you #hongjoong fanfic #ateez fanfic #kpop #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong

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nolita-fairytale · 11 months

Text

Carmy as Your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part four

a/n: I’ve got too far and I’d like to keep going TYSM. Your IG feed during your pregnancy and a post paired with the cutest fluffiest little blurb where carmy reacts to one of your posts.

blurb word count: 531

part three | masterlist | part five

"I can't believe you have this," Carmy chuckles, shaking his head at something on his phone.

"Hm?" you hum in response, as you lay propped up against the pillows and the headboard behind you.

"This photo of me," he answers, showing his phone to you. You place the book you’re reading down on your lap, narrowing your eyes as you peer over at the bright phone screen.

It's the photo you'd posted earlier that day. He must've just checked his instagram account. You giggle as you realize what photo he's talking about, a broad smile stretching across your face as you turn to him. Pictured is a much younger Carmy, standing over a bar in an open kitchen, his hair much shorter than now — just like when you’d met him.

"What a throwback, huh?" you shoot back.

You shift in bed just a little -- certainly not enough to disturb a perfectly curled up Aioli whose asleep at the foot of your bed.

" I-, I cut my hair... right when I moved to New York," he recalls with a shake of his head as he runs a tattooed hand through his curls. "Thought I'd like... cut off my hair and like... be a new person or whatever. It was stupid."

"Stupid? No. But I'm so glad you only kept it up for a little bit. I prefer your long hair," you add cheekily.

"Where did you get this?" he asks, still in disbelief as he looks down at the photo on the his phone screen.

"Well, I don't know about you, Carmy, but I do have access to the internet," you tease him, in reference to the fact that the photo had been taken to accompany an Eater article announcing his new position as CDC.

He rolls his eyes playfully, "I just mean-. I didn't even think you liked me back then."

"I didn't," you shrug, easily.

He scoffs, shaking his head once again as he looks away from you. You're a piece of work -- one of the many things he loves about you. This time, as he turns his whole body towards you, he moves further down so that he can talk to you and the baby. As he sets his phone down somewhere on the bed, you decide to take a more genuine approach this time as you answer his question.

"When we started getting to know each other... during quarantine," you begin to share. "I don't know. It must've been after one of our FaceTimes or something... I went back to the article and saved the photo."

He blushes, the softest smile appearing on his face as his blue eyes pierce right through your heart.

"There was something about it... that I liked. And I found it the other day when I was cleaning out my camera roll. Guess I've had it ever since."

"You liked me then?" he asks softly, as he looks up at you.

You nod.

"At least, enough to save this photo of you," you tease with a raise of an eyebrow.

He chuckles, leaning down to place the gentlest kiss to your round, extended tummy.

"And what about now?" he asks, coyly.

"Well, I like you enough to let you knock me up," you banter with him with a giggle.

He smirks, reaching over to put a hand on your belly, "Enough to let me do it again?"

You laugh incredulously as you say, "Let's just get through this first one, Berzatto."

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #Carmy as your baby daddy

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ily-tothecore · 6 months

Text

more sterek fic recs - all completed

finally, some more sterek! enjoy :)

quiet perfection by hyperlittlenori - this is one of my favourite sterek fics ever, it's honestly one of the softest things i've ever read and it has me grinning from ear to ear every single time i read it. it's an AU with a deaf derek and a sign speaking stiles. they meet for the first time at the station and are instantly enamoured with each other. all i want is for this fic to become a series, i just want more of them.

chasing slumber by hyperlittlenori - another fic by this author! this is some of the most intense sterek smut i've ever read in my life, i literally forgot to breathe during it. the boys use sex to cope but it's a lot healthier than it sounds, i swear. there's also a lot of fluff, i love this one so much. this authors writing is immaculate.

from love not lust by hyperlittlenori - another one, i know! this one is just really simple and sweet. the boys fall in love through book annotations and it's so extremely soft. asexual derek is beautiful.

deaton's dream beans by thenerdnextdoor - a coffeeshop/bookstore AU! derek is a brooding hermit who owns a bookstore and stiles is an obnoxious but adorable barista who's trying to start a war with a rival coffee shop. this is such a fun story, with a tiny bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. also, background thiam! i've read this multiple times, it's just so silly.

i ain't scared of your teeth by antisepticdork - stiles gets attacked by harpies, derek gets growly about it, they fall in like. this one is very much a 'monster of the week' fic, very chill and a bit goofy.

we've written volumes (in blood and scars and ink) by notthequiettype - stiles gets attacked by the alpha pack and derek nurses him back to health with a whole lotta werewolf healing mojo. solid banter, minor smut and a lot of fluff.

you saw me standing alone by orphan account - so obviously i like fics where stiles gets hurt and derek plays the sexy nurse, because here's another one! this is such a sweet fic, and the smut at the end is A+, slutty bottom derek is one of my favourite flavours of derek. he mewls, guys. mewls.

this is ridiculous by zosofi - a pining derek, a bloodthirsty, virgin killing unicorn and an oblivious, virginal stiles stilinski. this fic is so goofy and i love it.

warm shadows by stilinskisparkles - stiles gets hurt after another kidnapping and derek offers to help him out while he heals. a zero angst fic with some great banter and an evil peter hale thrown into the mix. these boys are so in love i wanna scream.

hear it in the silence by elisela - post season six fic where stiles and derek are best friends. stiles drags derek along on an impromptu road trip to escape the pressure of college and they realise they're in love along the way. such a romantic fic with top tier healthy communication, it's just a really beautiful story about falling in love with your best friend.

click here for part one of my sterek fic recs!

#ao3 #ao3fic #fic recommendation #archive of our own #fanfic #fic rec #sterek fic rec #sterek #stiles x derek #derek hale #sterek is eternal #stiles stilinski #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fan fiction #sterek au #sterek fanfiction #sterek fic

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be-missed · 5 months

Text

Not Strong Enough (Chap 5)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: curse words.

A/N: 5th chapter, thank you for waiting. I'll be using a different POV her, please tell me if this is better or no. Also, I think if I start using this POV, y'all need to be guessing what's inside of Jenna's (in the story) mind.

Masterlist

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 6

______________________________________________________________

Chap 5

"Hey, thanks for today, I really enjoyed the concert. See you around!"

You kept on reading the last text message that Jenna sent you after the concert. In the past few days, you are trying to keep your distance from the girl that you have been liking for some quite time now. After the concert, listening to the songs, it feels like you are having a revelation; you can't and you won't be the love of her life you thought.

So what you did was to be more productive than you are to stop yourself from thinking of the other girl and checking your phone. In the hospital when Jenna visits, you try to lessen your interaction and dismisses her telling that you are busy and needed in the surgery room. But one time, Jenna caught you seating in the chairs and watching a video on your phone. You didn't know that she'll go visit and unfortunately she asked around and asked what time is your break.

You were watching Melissa Barrera's 'Get To Bed With Me' YouTube video for Harper's Bazaar. "So, you are on a break, right?" You heard from your side and that got you surprised, it is Jenna's voice and you answered "Hey, I didn't know you were coming." and she chuckles and said "I came to surprise you, you were always on the go when I visit" she said and sat beside you.

You look at her whole figure intently, nothing has change, still the same chipped nail polish from the concert, same chuck taylors that she loves to wear, her headphone hanging around her neck, that necklace she wears sometimes when she is in the mood and a few rings.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry... there's a lot that's been going around here" you said with a sad smile and Jenna answered "No worries, I'm just glad I get to talk to you." and smiled at you.

Why does she need to smile like you are the softest thing that she have ever seen. "So, I just noticed, I mean I don't want to assume, because like, you know, it's not good, but I would like t you know, ask maybe, or like no, I've been meaning to tell you-" Jenna started to rumble but you held her hand and squeezed it and said "Hey you're rambling, it's ok breathe."

"Okay, I noticed that you are kinda ignoring me. You haven't replied to my message last last week, you have been ignoring me when I go here, I mean yes, we talk in facetime but you end it so quickly. I just... I miss you." Those words came out of Jenna's mouth.

She misses you. SHE MISSES YOU.

"Oh..." You started "I'm sorry if you feel like that, but I have been really really busy." You ended. But you feel like Jenna knows that you are lying to her.

"Sure, I mean, I'm sorry to bother you." Jenna said and went up to stand but you stopped her "Hey, please don't think that you're bothering me, that can never happen" and you smiled at her.

"Okay..." Jenna said and accepted your answer "So, do you have any plans for Halloween?" she asked and you answered "Yes, actually My friends and I are having a Halloween Party, just the four of us since we can't handle big events" and ended with a laugh.

"That sounds really nice, what are you dressing up?" Jenna asked you with such curiosity and you answered "Well, I'll be dressing up as Mavis from Hotel Transylvania."

Jenna took a mental note on that. The both of you heard a blaring sound and a voice said "Code Blue" and that alerted you.

"Hey, I'll be calling you, I am needed, duty calls." You said and kissed Jenna's cheeks and hugs her and you bolted out.

---

"Y/N please stop walking around, please" Ava stated while you pace around the break room with you friends watching you like you were in a loop. Beatrice enters the room, kissed her wife and looked at you weirdly.

"What is happening here?" Bea asked and her wife answered, "Well your friend here kissed her little princess, IN THE CHEEK." Ava exaggerated the last words that made Bea chuckle and said "Wow, a kiss on the cheek made you like that, how about when you get to kiss her." and the wives made fun of you that made you stop from pacing.

"GUYS! This isn't even funny!" You said that made the both of them laugh even more, "Chill down Y/N, girl friends kiss each other in the cheek." Beatrice emphasize the space between girl and friends "And please calm your thoughts down, try to stay in the present and no overthink yeah." Beatrice added.

"Okay, sure sure, I will try" you sat beside them and drink your water.

"So are you ready for our Halloween Party?" Ava asked and you just nodded "Okay, I can't wait to see you in your costume."

---

"TRICK OR TREAT" Those are the three words that the four of them hearing while they are having a dinner and playing monopoly.

"Damn, it's so late and there are kids outside." Ava stated as you went up and opened the door to give them candies and give them compliments for the effort that they did for their costume.

As you take your seat again "You can't blame them. I'd be walking the whole neighborhood just to get lots of candies" and rolled the dice, you moved your character that landed on boardwalk. You hollered and celebrated as you got the most expensive property in the game.

"That's not fair Y/N, you need to leave some property for us." Camila exclaimed while pouting like a little kid, "Oh stop it, you almost owned all of the land on the other side."

Beatrice gave you a house and the card for the boardwalk. Another knock on the door and a "Trick or Treat" can be heard, with a happy feeling, knowing that you'll be crashing Ava and Camila in the game, you happily get the bucket of candy and opened the door, and it stunned you.

Jenna was the one that is in front of the door, with her little cousins.

As you scanned her face, you could also see a surprised look, she probably doesn't assume that you will be the one opening the door and will be giving them the treats.

"Hey..." you said with the brightest smile, feeling like a fucking winner even if the game hasn't ended, but looking at Jenna with her orange long sleeve under a yellow jersey T-shirt, cargo shirt, and on her adidas rubber shoes. You intake in everything that is on her and she replied back with a smirk on her face "Hey back to you beautiful."

"Can I get my candies now?" You hear a littlw voice and you looked down and answered "Sure sweetie, here get anything you want" and almost gave all of the candies to Jenna's cousin.

"Whoa there, that's a lot for you miss." Jenna exclaimed seeing that you almost empty the candy bucket that you have.

"Didn't know you live around our block?" Jenna said and you answered "Oh no, this is not mine, this is actually where Ava and Beatrice lives" and scratched your head, "You wanna join our party?" you asked Jenna and she answered "Oh I would like to, but as you can see I'm tasked to bring the kids to trick or treat"

That made you sad because you won't be hanging with Jenna.

"But... I can come after we round the whole block if that's alright?" She asked and that made you smile and you answered "Sure, that's great" and you watched them walking away. The both of you shared a small wave.

As you went back to the table, you said to the group " I hope it's okay that I invited someone later?" and that made them look at you "It's just Jenna, so I hope you don't mind?"

"Wow, so now you got the guts to invite her huh? But yeah, it's okay for me, how about you my love?" Bea said and Ava nodded because her mouth is currently full with m&m.

"It's about damn time I get to meet her. I'll show her how I fucking nailed Wednesday's dance" Camila exclaimed and both you and Beatrice said "Please no."

---

An hour passed and the four of you are just watching a horror film when the doorbell rang. When you opened the door, you saw Jenna standing with a wine on her hand.

"Hey you didn't need to bring something" you said and Jenna answered "I think it's good to impress your friends" and the both of you entered the living room that made the other three stare at you.

Beatrice paused the movie and Camila said "Wow, you got your whole costume planned huh?" and that made you look at her questionly.

You then scanned Jenna's costume, orange long sleeves under a yellow jersey T-Shirt, a cargo short, and a rubber shoes. That's where it clicked, SHE WAS DRESS AS JOHNNY, Mavis' husband.

"Surprise" Jenna said in a little voice and looked at you worriedly.

You bit your lips and said "Well good to see you husband." You kissed her cheeks again and pull her to the sofa to the spot where you were seated earlier and the movie continued.

"I hope it's okay" Jenna whispered and that made you look at her, you were so close to her face, the lights of the TV illuminated her face, and that just took your breath away.

"What do you mean?" You asked, a bit of perplexed on what she's asking. "I dressed up as Johnny" she said.

You thought, why would she feel sorry for dressing up as your husband, as Mavis' husband? Because what she just did for her costume, being in a couple costume with you, sent you heart beating impossibly fast that you fear it will just stop and Jenna will be seeing you body lying on the floor while your three friends are trying to perform a cpr on you.

"No worries, I kinda like how you played it off, it looks good on you." You said and if the lights were on, you will notice how the blush on Jenna's face creeps in. "You are beautiful as well Y/N" Jenna said.

"Can we please now watch" Camila said to the both of you because she is just literally seating close to the both of you, which made the both of you said your apologise quietly and sat comfortably beside each other.

The night went on, and the five of you finished two movies. Beatrice and Ava are now cleaning the living room while you clean the dining room which leaves Camila and Jenna in the living room.

Camila broke the silence and said "I really liked you on Wednesday." and that made Jenna smile and said a thank you, Camila then continued "You know, if I may, I can show you how I perfected the dance you did in the ball" Camila stands up in the middle of the living room and within a second you tackled Camila into the floor, not wanting to make Jenna feel uncomfortable since you have watched a lot of her interviews about the Wednesday dance and also you are concerned about your friend who can't really dance to save her life.

"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N" Camila exclaimed and pushed you off of her "I'm sorry, I just missed you" you answered while you are still lying on the floor.

Jenna went to you and helped you up "Are you okay?" she asked and you just nodded.

"That was not fair Y/N, I was about to show Jenna my dancing skills" Camila said with a pout on her lips, and that just made you giggle.

Jenna buts in and said "Maybe you can show me next time when we meet each other again."

But that just made your head shakes for a no, earning a few "no" that can be heard from Bea and Ava.

Finishing up and gathering your things, you said your goodbye to Ava, Bea, and Camila. Jenna by your side walking towards the street.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight" Jenna said kicking stones that got in her way.

You looked at her like a little kid, thinking it was fun to see her like this, enjoying herself and being young & free. "No problem, I love having you around and the girls have been wanting to meet you since they only got to greet you in the hospital" you said.

"Really? I'm glad to hear that. I also enjoyed spending time with them" She said.

Walking a few more streets and you were nearing Jenna's house. No small talks were made, only the noise of the neighborhood can be heard and your small hums.

Jenna the breaks the silence "I just noticed that you always invite me to do something while I just go and say yes."

"Well, I like hanging out with you" you answered, because it is true. You know for yourself that even if you don't have any feelings for Jenna, you would enjoy her company.

"How about if you come to our Family dinner next time, sounds good?" Jenna suggested and it surprised you. How come you got invited to a Family Dinner and that made you super shy because you will gonna be surrounded with Jenna's family and you were scared that they will not like you. But then you reminded yourself to calm down and live on the now.

"Uhmm sure, if that's okay with your family, I don't want to intrude" you answered and Jenna smiled and said "Oh trust me they would love you there, my mom was also planning in inviting you, she said you are like a daughter to her"

Wow, Natalie has plans on inviting you, that was the first time you heard that. You know that you and Natalie have this bond and you feel so treasured and loved, thinking that Natalie thought of you more like her daughter.

Stepping in front of the Ortega's front door, you and Jenna faced each other earning a sweet smile on both of your faces.

"Thank you for tonight" Jenna said.

That moment, this moment, you were so sure that you wanted to kiss Jenna, you are thinking, you have stopped yourself many times to not kiss her so maybe this is a good chance to let go and just kiss her. Live on the now, you think. Your heart beating loud and you try to block the negative thoughts.

So one of your hand went into Jenna's side, you were slowly leaning in, waiting for a movement from the other girl to pull away and you felt none, so you persisted and you felt that Jenna was also leaning in, placing her hands into your shoulder.

A flashing of lights and a honk is heard that broke you apart. The windows rolled down and you saw Jenna's dad waving, getting down the car and going towards the both of you.

"Hey girls, hope I'm not interrupting something?" said and hugged Jenna and looked at you.

You introduced yourself "Good evening Sir, I'M Y/N, Jenna's friend and Natalie's co-worker.' and stretched your hand to shake his hand which he did shake and exclaimed "So you are who's Jenna is talking about, huh?"

Jenna nudged her father "Dad, please stop" which made her father laugh and said "Well, if you are hungry you can go inside and dig in." and leave the both of you outside again.

You broke the silence and said "Well, I'm gonna go home" you take Jenna's hand and kissed the back of it, "Good night my husband" You said with a teasing smile referring to Jenna's costume and you started to walk down their front yard.

Jenna then said "Good night to you my wife, call me when you're home" and blow you a kiss which you catch and kept it in your pocket that made Jenna laugh.

And that maybe was the greatest Halloween that you could have ever have in you whole life.

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Chap 6

A/N: an update, hope this was good. Thanks for reading!

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #fiction #jenna ortega imagine

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