#i've been thinking about the smut all day

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN has a one-night stand, who turns out to be her boss at the hospital where she now works.

author's note: surprise!! doctor!harry is here to surprise you! i know i've been radio silent for a while, and i apologise for that but work has been so busy recently that i've not had a minute to myself. but i've found it, and i've spent it writing this for all of you! thanks for all ya support!

word count: 10K of smut, fluff, angst and everything in between (and also harry being the cutest paediatric doctor anyone has ever seen)

let me know what you think of good omens here! mwah <3

#1

The first time it happened was completely accidental. Well, as accidental as sleeping with a co-worker could be. A co-worker who she didn’t know was a co-worker just yet.

It was YN’s first day as a paediatric surgeon in a new hospital, in a new town and she couldn’t save him. She couldn’t save him. He was twelve years old. It wasn’t the first time that YN had lost someone, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. But, for a day that was supposed to be filled with new beginnings — ones that were supposed to last — it just didn’t feel like a good omen in YN’s eyes.

That’s how she ended up at the bar, on her third or fourth drink of god-knows-what when she knew that she shouldn’t. YN knew, in the back of her mind that there was no way that she could have saved that boy, no matter what she did. It was too late, and she had done her best but today her best just didn’t seem good enough.

When the handsome stranger sat next to her she didn’t think anything of it at first. He ordered his drink and just sat there. He didn’t look at YN, and YN didn’t look at him. They just sat there. From the sparing glance that YN took of the man he was attractive but that wasn’t on her mind right now — how could it be?

That was until her drink was placed on the bar in front of her, when she had just finished hers and she hadn’t asked for a new one. YN cast her eyes on the bartender, who just motioned in the handsome man’s direction. YN turned to him, and this time instead of facing forward he was looking directly at her. YN’s eyes dropped down to the drink in front of her one last time, before looking at the mystery man again who was smiling, a very pretty smile at that.

“Looked like you needed it,” He shrugged, lifting his own drink to his lips, and taking a sip.

YN scoffed a laugh, “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

“Smart girl,” The man nodded before turning back to the bartender, “But Benny can vouch for me, can’t you Benny? Went straight from Benny’s hand to in front of you.”

YN sighed again, dropping her eyes down to the glass in front of her before lifting back up to the stranger.

“First name basis with the bartender,” YN lifts an eyebrow at him, “Come here a lot?”

The man shrugs, “Only when I need to.”

YN sighs, contemplating what she was or was not going to do before she just did it. She picked up the glass and took a sip, placing it down with a slight thunk on the counter. The smile on the man’s face was all she needed.

“I’m YN,” She holds out her hand for the man to shake.

He looks at her, then at her hand and drops his into it, “I’m Harry.”

An hour later YN had hardly made it through her front door before his lips were on hers. The door shut with a bang, one that YN would have probably cared about if she wasn’t being hoisted up against it. Harry’s hands slipped down from her waist to her ass until he was gripping her thighs and lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, but the entire time their lips never left each other.

“Bedroom,” Harry mumbled against her lips, before starting an assault down her neck.

“Down the hall,” YN gasped, trying to hold in her moans as his teeth nipped along her neck.

They bumped into a few things along the way, a chest of drawers that was conveniently placed right outside the entrance of her bedroom and then the doorway that neither of them could have moved. When they did make it into the room, it wasn’t long before Harry’s lips were back on hers.

“You sure about this?” Harry murmurs against her lips and YN pulls away.

“I am,” YN runs her hands down through Harry’s hair until it is at the collar of his blazer, “Are you?”

“Hell yes,” Harry reattaches his lips to hers just as her hands slip from the curls at the nape of his neck before they run themselves along the collar of his blazer and help him shrug it off. YN brings her hands around the front to the collar of his shirt now, unbuttoning it from the top down to the bottom until she can pull that off his body also.

Her eyes widen in surprise at the ink across his chest and arms. From what she could see (which wasn’t a lot with his blazer and shirt on) she hadn’t suspected his body to be littered in the dark ink, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers along the ink, following the designs with her fingertips.

“Tattoos?”

Harry chuckles, tapping her chin with his finger so she moves her eyes up from his chest to his eyes. Her body nearly gave out in that exact second.

“What?” He chuckled, a playful smile toying his lips, “You like them?”

YN just sighed, “Ask me again when I can think straight?”

Harry laughed, leaning back down to kiss her again. His fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, and they separated for the second it took YN to lift her arms up and for Harry to pull the shirt off of her body. YN moved to unbutton her trousers, a giggle escaping her lips as Harry helped her when they got stuck around her calf.

When YN had dressed for the day, she hadn’t factored this happening at all, and her mismatched bralette and panties (both a soft cotton instead of anything fancy for comfort reasons) weren’t the sexiest and she knew that. But, when her eyes met Harry’s again, and she saw his eyes flicker up and down her body, none of that mattered anymore.

Harry placed a few chaste kisses onto her lips once again before moving down her neck, down to the exposed skin of her breast above her bralette. A shiver ran down her spine when his hands moved around her back, his fingertips dancing across her skin before skilfully unclasping her bra and allowing it to fall from her body, exposing her breasts to him. The material was discarded on the floor, and YN swore she saw his eyes widen at the sight of her chest exposed to him.

He dropped back down to the top of her breasts, kissing and every once in a while nipping slightly. Once he wrapped his lips around her nipple, YN’s entire body lurched forward. Her thighs tried to tighten, just to relieve some of the pressure that was building within her. Instead, YN found herself pulling Harry closer to her by her thighs, the thing cotton of her panties not creating much of a barrier between her and Harry’s crotch. YN bites her lip in hopes of suppressing the moan that was attempting to slip from her lips.

YN can’t help but grind her hips forward towards his, shivering slightly when Harry’s teeth nip over her nipple.

“Harry,” YN almost mewls, her hips bucking up again, “Please.”

“Please what, darling?” Harry taunts, releasing her nipple with a slight ‘pop’.

YN just rolls her hips towards his once more, and Harry seems to get the hint. From there he moves downwards, littering kisses down her ribs and towards the top of her panties.

“Can I?” Harry asks, his fingers moving to the hem of her panties, slipping them just underneath upon her skin. YN shivered, her hips involuntarily bucking up towards Harry’s touch.

“Yes,” YN gasped, the cool air of the room hit the heat between her legs as Harry tucked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, “Please… Harry.”

YN sighed into the feeling of Harry’s lips pressing into her thigh as he pulled her panties completely off. Even though this man was a complete stranger to her – the way that he was looking at her. The way that his eyes danced down her body, the way they looked into hers as he placed kisses on the inside of her thighs, itching closer and closer to the heat inside of her legs – her judgement was clouded as to whether they were actual strangers.

“Am I getting warmer?” Harry jokes, his fingers coming to rest on YN’s stomach, trying to stop the way that she was lifting her hips upwards.

“You’re such a tease,” YN sighed, her body withering once more as he pressed a kiss right on her pubic bone.

Harry just grinned up at her, a playful smirk toying on his lips once more, “Have I found it?”

“You’re there. Bingo. Please.”

One last pleasing look to Harry, and it was as though he dived in. He didn’t even hesitate, his mouth dropped down and his lips attached to YN’s clit. Her entire body lurched forward, and without even thinking her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to conceal the sounds that were threatening to escape. His lips applied just enough pressure, changing every so often to bring her closer and closer. When his hands reached forward and rolled her nipples between his fingers, she was gone.

“Wanna hear you,” He mumbles against her, the vibrations of his words transferring to her skin, “Need to hear I’m making you feel good.”

“You’re making me feel so good,” YN reassured him, a gasp leaving her lips as he started to flick his tongue against her. YN’s hands dropped down and slipped through his curls, allowing herself to grind against his face. The hand that was rolling her nipple moved to slip down between their bodies. He pulled away for a second, just to rub his pointer finger across her clit before dipping it inside her. YN mewled, her hands reaching out to grasp the duvet beneath her, “Don’t stop, so fucking good.”

The way his fingers and tongue worked simultaneously brought her closer and closer with every movement. YN had never in her entire life had a one-night stand where the first thing the man did was eat her out. It was not only unheard of, but it was divine. The mewls and groans that left her lips were only heightened by his quickening pace, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” Her thighs attempted to close, only for Harry’s hand (the one not currently inside of her) to push them back open. There was something about him not only bringing her closer and closer to orgasm with his tongue and fingers but also the way he was manhandling her that YN couldn’t handle, “I’m so close.”

He brought his lips away from her clit, only to immediately start rubbing it up and down with his thumb.

“You going to come for me?” He asked, a boyish smile crossing his lips, ones that were glistening with her juices, “Come on. Come for me, baby.”

That one pet name was all that she needed. Her hips were rising from the bed, and her legs started to shake from over his shoulder. She could feel the orgasm from the tip of her toes right up to her head. Small gasps left her body, but Harry worked her through it.

Once the initial wave had stopped, YN dropped her body back on the bed and tried to gain control of her breathing. Harry didn’t wait a single second before he was climbing up her body, so he was hovering over her again, leaning down to capture her lips with hers. She could feel his cock pressing into her leg, and by the slight movement in his hips she knew that he was waiting for his time, and she was more than happy to oblige him.

Her hands snaked down his body, from his shoulders down to his stomach before they toyed with the button on his trousers.

Harry pulled away, only for a second to drop his eyes to where her hands were on his trousers, “You want to do this?”

YN nodded, “Wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”

Harry chuckled, helping her to push his trousers down along with his underwear until his cock sprung out at her.

“Then who am I not to oblige?”

The next morning YN woke up with a slight pounding in her head. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but she guessed the fully drunk bottle of water that was on her bedside table had done the trick. Her alarm had been set for seven, and that sound was the only thing she could hear in her room.

Just as YN was about to peel the covers back off her body and start getting ready for the day — she felt it. It was light, but she could feel it. A leg, presumably belonging to the person that she had just realised was sleeping next to her, just skimming the side of her leg. They weren’t facing each other, but the second that YN turned her head and saw that face looking at her, all the meme flies of the previous night came flooding back to her — work, the drinks, the sex.

Without even thinking she reached her arm out to tap Harry, lifting him from his slumber in a less-than-calming way. His eyes opened for a second before a groan left his lips and he immediately closed them, dropping his head back down to the pillow.

“Harry,” YN mumbled, slipping out of the bed, and clutching a blanket to her body to preserve at least a smudge of the dignity she had left, “I need to go to work, and you need to leave.”

He sighed, turning his head on the pillow to face her again, “What time is it?”

“It’s seven,” She responded, “I need to shower and get ready and I’m going to be late to work.”

Before she could even finish her sentence he was jumping out of bed, leaning down to grab his discarded clothes, and starting to pull them on his body. YN just stood there watching him, still clutching the blanket to her body.

“You’re not the only one that’s going to be late for work,” He sighed, throwing his shirt back on his body and taking quick steps towards her. He stops, leans down, and presses a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” She nods, not completely trusting herself with her words, but she has no idea why, “Bye.”

“Bye!” He called out and just like that he was out of her room and a few seconds later she heard the front door slam, and he was out of her apartment.

It wasn’t as though she expected anything else — this was a one-night stand after all. However, there was a part of her that wished she had the balls to ask for his number or something. There was a part of her that was disappointed that the man who had given her the best sex she’d ever had didn’t seem interested in wanting her number or rushing out the way he had.

YN’s shock was short-lived, especially when her alarm clock beeped from the side of her, and she had no choice but to get on with her day. Dropping the blanket she made her way into the bathroom, sighing when she saw the state of herself in the mirror.

Despite the lack of headache, her body looked as though it had been through the wringer. Her hair was a mess, knotted and tangled all over the top of her head — just from looking at the front she dreaded to think what the back looked like.

Once her eyes had left her head, they fell to her neck and drew a line down to her breasts. From around her collar gone down she was covered in marks, some of them small and some of them bigger. The ones around her breasts were the biggest, and just the sight of them sent YN’s mind back. She ran her fingertips along the tender skin, reminding herself of the kisses and the touches that they had shared. With a shake of her head, YN pushed all of the thoughts of Harry out, turned her shower on and waited for the water to heat up.

It was her second day. Her second day. Her thoughts weren’t supposed to be clouded by the man she had met in the bar whilst trying to get drunk, trying to forget what a disaster her first day had been. Instead, she wasn’t thinking about everything she needed to do today, or what could potentially come through the door of the hospital that she would need to focus her strength on, she was reliving the night she had just had as she ran her loofah across her skin, tracing the pattern that Harry had taken.

As she stood with the warm water running over her body, she scolded herself for not doing something. She could have said something, anything to ask him, or followed him before he left the flat. But she didn’t, and she would probably never see him again — and she would have to live with that.

Shampooing her scalp helped remove the stress that was starting to build up in her body. Whilst the irrational side of her brain was telling her all of things that she could have done, the more rational side of her brain was letting her know that it was just a one-night stand. That it was just a one-night stand that she was never going to see again, and that was fine. That was fine.

The more YN thought about it, and the more that she scrubbed her scalp (it was starting to potentially hurt at this point) she brushed (scratched) all of these thoughts out of her head. She had to focus on the most important thing here, and that was her second day of work.

Once she was scrubbed and sparkling and fresh from the night before, she dressed and made her way to work. There was something that made YN feel powerful about her line of work. Maybe it was the fact that she got to save lives every day, or maybe it was the fact that those lives were children, but she felt powerful. Yesterday was just a slip-up, and everything will be fixed today she knew it was.

Once she had pulled her white coat on, and attached her I.D. to it, she made her way over to the nurses’ desk where some of the other doctors on the wing were. Iris, one of the trainee specialists that YN had met yesterday and was going to be working under her was already there, flicking through some paperwork for some of their patients for the day.

“You look…” Iris looked YN up and down, “Different.”

“Different?” YN just laughed, “You saw me stressed yesterday. Today I’m not stressed. Today I’m fine. Today I’m ready for work. Today is a new day. Today is a new day, and it is going to be a good day!”

Iris stared at YN, watching as the woman tapped her nails against the top of the desk waiting for Iris to pass her the files for their patients today so she could get on with the day. She could feel today was going to be a good day. No room for distractions, just her and her work.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Iris raised an eyebrow at YN, watching as the girl just smiled at her.

“I’m feeling fine. I’m feeling good,” YN smiled, finally stopping the tapping on the desk to hold her hand out to receive her first patient file, “Now, I have a bladder to operate on in an hour and I need to read my patient’s chart.”

Iris didn’t seem too convinced by her answer but carried on anyway, “I don’t have it. The peds consultant, Dr. Styles just went in for a consult.”

“Oh,” YN looked surprised, looking over her shoulder to look at her patient’s room but she couldn’t see anything through the door, “I haven’t met him yet. How long has it been since he went?”

“He wasn’t working yesterday,” Iris shrugs, “He’s lovely. Really. Everything you expect from someone who has spent years of his life saving kids.”

YN wasn’t surprised at that. There is a certain type of person who worked in paediatrics. These people had to be kind but stern. They had to be strong but compassionate. Being a doctor, or a surgeon anyway was tough but when children are involved, it complicates everything – makes everything more emotional. There had to be a type of detachment in the person – knowing that these patients were children, and there is a certain higher level of emotion attached to them but how you couldn’t let that emotion rule takes guts.

When YN first went to medical school paediatrics was the last thing on her mind, but by the time she had finished, it was the only thing that she could think about. Now – here she was.

“Well, I hope he’s not going to be long,” YN sighs, tapping her nails against the desk again, “Got pre-ops to do, and I don’t really fancy standing and waiting here for any longer.”

“Stop complaining,” Iris sighs, standing up and moving around the desk so that she’s next to YN, “And he’s here.”

YN sighed, pushing herself up and turning around. She was used to the introductions by now. Whilst peds doctors are lovely and have some sort of emotional intelligence they are still doctors, and that comes with some sort of arrogance. All she needed to do was introduce herself and then she could get into the operating room – where she wanted to. That’s all she thought she would do, but the second she turned around she knew that wasn’t going to be the case at all.

“Hi,” He stopped right in front of her, his hand reaching out as though it was going to shake hers, “I’m Dr. Styles.”

Turns out she didn’t need his number. Turns out she was going to be working with him.

#2

The second that it happened YN had just finished surgery. A kidney transplant on a nine-year-old boy. She was exhausted. She was stressed, and all she wanted to do was go home and go to bed – that was what she needed to do. Just as YN pulled her scrub cap off her head and followed that with a yawn she felt a hand wrapping around her waist. Just a second later she was being pulled into the closest room, which just happened to be a janitorial storage room.

YN sighed, facing the back wall, and taking in the musty scent along with the brooms and mops that were lining the back wall. She didn’t need to know who was with her, and that was the problem.

“You’re avoiding me,” He spoke, and YN still didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to turn around, “You’re avoiding me, and you can’t avoid me.”

YN sighed, “I’m not avoiding you. I see you every day.”

“In consults, YN!” YN ran her hand over her forehead, still looking at the wall, “In consults, where you don’t even look me in the eyes! I’ve tried and tried, and you won’t talk to me!”

“Because you’re my boss!” YN flung around, looking Harry directly in his eyes. The way she raised her voice caused Harry’s eyes to widen, and the way he immediately saw her eyes start to fill up caused them to soften straightaway, “You’re my boss, and I slept with you!”

“YN,” Harry sighs, taking a step towards her with his hand out. Before YN could flinch she pulled away, “You didn’t know that that I was your boss, that is not your fault.”

“You are still my boss, Harry,” She sighs, trying to stop her lips from turning into a frown, “You are still my boss, and I’ve slept with you. You’ve seen me naked! I’ve seen you naked! You’re my boss!”

“YN, you need to listen to me,” Harry was the one sighing now, running his finger across his eyebrow, “You did not know that I was your boss. I did not know you were a surgeon, never mind the surgeon on my staff! We both didn’t know and if we don’t talk this out – we’re not going to be able to work together and that’s dangerous. I know it, you know it. How can we treat our patients, those children out there if we can barely look at each other in the eye?”

YN sighed, knowing that it wasn’t the most sanitary, but she was tired. She dropped down to the floor, her back leaning against one of the shelves covered in cleaning supplies. Harry sighed and dropped down next to her, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Why didn’t you ask for my number?”

YN had interrupted the silence that had washed over them, and Harry didn’t say anything straight away. He turned to look at YN, but she was staring straight ahead – at the other shelves with boxes of cleaning supplies on.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you ask for my number?” She asked again, “Before you left. Why didn’t you ask for my number?”

“I wanted to,” Harry responds this time, but YN still doesn’t look at him, “I wanted to, but I was late. I forgot.”

YN laughed. She couldn’t help it, “You forgot? You slept with me, and then you forgot to ask for my number?”

Harry’s head turned to hers quickly, his eyes laced with shock, “You didn’t ask for mine. You could’ve asked for mine, you could’ve.”

“I could’ve if you didn’t race out of the room like there was a fire under your arse!”

Harry sighed again, looking straight ahead at the shelves. They were in silence again, and then his hand reached out to grasp hers. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Instead, she snaked his fingers through hers and pulled her hand so that it was resting on her knees.

“Oliver,” Harry sighed, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “The patient that you did the bladder operation on, you removed his tumours.”

“Yeah?” YN sighed, unsure as to where this was going.

“That was my friend's kid,” Harry sighed, not stopping as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, “Oliver. Oli – that’s what we call him. He’s a bubbly kid, kind, good at sports. He was fine. Then one day he wasn’t. His parents took him to his GP, he said it was a bladder infection. They came to me, and I said the same. I said the same. They begged me to run more tests, begged me. I didn’t, he got worse, and they came back. I ordered the tests and –”

“He had cancer, and I removed his tumours,” YN sighs. Before she could help it, she pulled his hand on top of her knee and ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

“I went to the bar because I was trying to not think about it, and then I saw you,” Harry sighed, shrugging slightly, “And I, for that night could push everything out of my head. I could push the fact that I missed it out of my head. Then I woke up, and I forgot to ask for your number because I was late to make sure that he was alright before his surgery, and I wanted to be there for his parents. Then I saw him, and then I saw you and then I remembered – I should have asked for your number, but it didn’t matter.”

“Because I was here,” She sighed, and he pursed his lips together and nodded, “But then I ignored you because I slept with my boss, and I thought you didn’t care.”

“I did care,” He sighed, “I do care. It was just…”

“It was a bad day,” YN sighed, a small smile gracing her lips, “We all have bad days. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“It’s okay,” Harry smiled, “Can we not ignore each other anymore? I know it’s weird that you’ve seen your boss naked but –”

“We’re okay,” YN laughed, “As long that you don’t find it strange that you’ve seen your colleague naked too.”

He joined in with her laughter, the sound filling up the once-silent room. It had been a month of this silence, this lack of communication between them and even though YN was exhausted – she felt better. Once the laughter had died down, YN realised that she was still holding his hand, her thumb still rubbing on the back of her skin.

YN looked up at Harry, her breath catching in her throat when she realised that he was staring right at her. It was as though the room around them had shrunk, pushing them closer and closer together until their faces were only inches apart. They had just made up, and then all of a sudden his lips were on hers.

YN moved, their lips not separating so that she was straddling his lap. The room now wasn’t small, and it wasn’t just filled with cleaning supplies – it was filled with their deep breaths, their moans, the sound of their lips moving against one another. YN’s hands slipped into the curls at the nape of his neck, just as they had done that night a month ago. Harry’s hand slipped underneath her scrubs, grabbing against her waist, and pulling her closer to him.

That feeling was back, the one that she had felt before. The one where it felt good, as though (and she knew how crazy this sounded) that they fit together perfectly. The feeling of his hands on her, and his lips on hers was everything that she needed.

That was until there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me!” The voice was deep, and not one that YN recognised, “I need to get into my storage cupboard unless you want the entire hospital to be dirty!”

YN and Harry pulled away, a string of laughs escaping their lips as they tried to pull their selves together. Harry pulled the door open once they looked a little more presentable, revealing Mark, the janitor, standing there with his hands on his hips.

“Sorry, Mark,” Harry nodded, clearing his throat slightly, “Bad day.”

Mark scoffed, watching as YN fluttered past them and started to move down the hall. She didn’t move fast enough to not hear him say, “Keep your bad days to the on-call room next time.”

“So,” It was later on in the day, and YN had managed to get some sleep in one of the on-call rooms before she was back to it. She hadn’t seen Harry since their little adventure in the janitor’s cupboard earlier today, not until right now, “I was thinking.”

“Oh,” YN sighed, continuing to flick through the charts that were in her hands, “That’s dangerous.”

Harry laughed, and that was when YN turned to look at him. He was in his scrubs, his hands in his white lab coat. All YN wanted to do was wish that they were back in that cupboard, mainly so she could kiss him again.

“My thinking isn’t dangerous. I think I come up with brilliant ideas,” Harry leant against the nurses’ station, his body leaning towards her.

“Okay,” YN closed her chart so that she could angle her body towards his as well, “What is this brilliant idea you’ve come up with?”

“I think we should go on a date,” YN’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything to him he carried on speaking, “I think we should go on a proper date. Dinner, or a movie – something. A proper date.”

“This was your brilliant idea?” YN raised her eyebrow, “To ask me on a date?”

“Yes,” He beamed another smile at her, “Properly. We’re going to do this properly.”

YN cleared her throat and took a step closer to Harry so that they were not at a professional space away from each other.

“So,” YN’s eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, “This whole… doing it properly thing? Does that mean we can’t have sex?”

Just when YN thought he was going to kiss her, Harry stepped away. He walked away from her.

“Harry?” She exclaimed, her arms dropping open.

“We’re doing this properly!” He called back, not even turning to look at her, “I’ll pick you up at eight!”

YN sighed, shaking her head, and watching as he turned the corner out of her view. She turned back to her chart, but before she could open it her eyes caught Iris – who she had completely forgotten was sitting behind the desk when Harry walked past.

“I don’t even know what to say,” The girl spoke, eyes still open wide, “I feel like I’ve just watched some sort of soft porn. I feel like I’m at work, and I’ve just witnessed soft porn with my own two eyes.”

YN laughed, she couldn’t help it, “I think you’re in shock.”

“I think I’ve just watched soft porn between my two co-workers – my two bosses,” She adds, the shock on her face still not wavering, “Never mind that, one of my friends – my best friends, mind that – and her boss, who is also my boss.”

“Iris,” YN clapped in front of her face, snapping her friend out of whatever shock she was in, “You good?”

“I’m good,” Iris stood up, “I just think I’m going to wash my eyes out.”

A few hours later YN was waiting for Harry outside the hospital, dressed in an outfit that wasn’t exactly the best but wasn’t the worst. YN hadn’t expected to be going on a date this morning, but Harry had seen her in her scrubs, so a pair of jeans and a nice top wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

“You ready?” Harry’s hand hovered above her back as he joined her outside the hospital.

“I’m ready,” YN sighed, “I’m ready for our proper date. Can I find out where we’re going on our proper date?”

“Not yet,” He slipped his hand into hers, “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

YN groaned but allowed herself to be pulled to Harry’s car. Harry drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on YN’s. It felt comfortable. YN hadn’t been on many first dates, but the ones that she had never felt like this. Saying that many of the people she had been on first dates with she hadn’t already slept with, or she hadn’t worked with them.

They pulled up outside what seemed to be a diner of some sort. YN hadn’t lived here long, so she hadn’t explored anyway but her house, the hospital, and the supermarket.

“What is this place?”

“You’ll find out,” Harry opened the car door for her, “Not a fan of surprises?”

“I’m a surgeon,” YN stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Surprises normally equal either more work for me or death. I’m not a fan of surprises.”

“I think you’ll like this one.”

Harry opened the door to the diner for YN, allowing her to step in first like a proper date. This was a proper date.

“Harry!” An older woman called from behind the counter, “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hi, Mrs Chapman,” Harry didn’t even flinch when the woman came and placed a kiss on her cheek, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, doll, how are you?” The older woman pulled away but kept her hands firmly on Harry’s arms, “Still the best doctor that ever lived? My Harrison is doing his exams later this year thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Mrs. Chapman,” Harry finally managed to pull himself out of the older woman’s grasp, “Are we okay to sit?”

Mrs. Chapman looked over at YN, then she gasped and nodded, “Of course you are! Your booth’s free, Harry. Let me know if you need anything.”

Harry just smiled, leading YN towards a booth at the back of the diner with a hand on the nape of her back. Each time that YN found out a little bit more information about Harry, it shocked her and didn’t simultaneously.

“Do you leach off a lovely woman whose child you saved?” YN asked, raising her eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from Harry.

“I do not leach,” Harry shook his head, passing YN a menu, “I found this place way before Harrison came to see me. Mrs. Chapman is a lovely woman, who now gives me free food now and then because I saved her grandson.”

YN just sighed, shaking her head, and looking down at the menu again. It had everything that a typical diner would have, but I suppose the thing that made it different from the rest was the connection that Harry had with it.

“Do you come here often, then?” YN asked, deciding on whether she wanted a burger or not, “To be on a first-name basis with the owner?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs, not even looking at the menu as though he already knows what he is going to have. He then sighs, “It’s the only place around here that’s open twenty-four hours. I come here because the food’s nice, the people are nice and I’m normally too tired to cook after a shift.”

“God,” YN sighs, leaning back in the booth and crossing her arms over her chest, “If I’d have known this place existed I would’ve saved so much money on crappy microwave meals.”

“Oh,” Harry shakes his head, “No, we can’t be having that.”

“Okay then,” YN drops her menu on the table in front of them, “What do you recommend?”

They end up ordering way too much food than what would normally be appropriate for two people to eat. They had burgers, and milkshakes and god only knows how many different types of pie. The only constellation that YN had for it was that they’d be able to take the leftovers home and that was one thing she loved more than eating out was the leftovers the next day.

“I’m stuffed,” YN sighed, dropping her fork down on her plate. She had just put back a burger, a handful of fries and half of two slices of pie (cherry and apple) in one sitting. In YN’s defence, she had been in the OR for the majority of the day, and that therefore meant scoffing a sandwich in the twenty-minute break she found herself having about six hours ago.

“So, you’re not going to help me finish this last slice of pie?” Harry pouted his lips slightly at her, pushing the plate with the last bit of cherry pie towards her.

YN sighed, but it didn’t take her long to pick up her fork and dig it into the last piece of the pie. YN ate half of it, and Harry had the other half. At that point, YN felt as though she was truly and honestly going to burst now. If it was socially acceptable to unbutton her trousers, she would have done that.

“That’s it,” YN shook her head, waving her hands in front of her, “Stop feeding me. I can’t take it anymore.”

“It was good though?” Harry nodded, “Right?”

“So good,” YN sighed, unable to hold the smile off her face, “I don’t think I’ve eaten this good since moving here.”

“Not much of a cook?” Harry laughed, wiping his hands with his napkin.

YN shook her head, leaning back on the booth. Even though she was having a lovely time, there was a part of her that was exhausted, but she wanted to stay. Even though every muscle in her body, every ache was screaming at her to go home and go to bed – she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave; she didn’t want this night to end.

“I’m not much of anything,” YN shrugged, “I’m a surgeon. That’s about it.”

“I don’t believe that,” Harry shook his head, “I believe that, yeah, you’re a surgeon, but I don’t think that’s all there is to you. That’s all I want to know.”

YN sighed, her teeth clamping down on the inside of her lip, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait.”

“I’m going to have to wait?” Harry laughed, “What am I going to have to wait for?”

“Our next proper date.”

Harry’s entire face beamed out into a smile, and YN couldn’t help but join him. In all honesty, whilst there was a level of comfortableness between them there was also a part that made her giddy. It was new and it was exciting and even though alarm bells were ringing for her that this was her boss, she had never felt this way about anybody before.

She didn’t think she ever would again.

#3

The third time it happened, YN knew that this was going to be for good.

“You’re going to get married, and you’re going to have his babies and get a dog and I’m just going to be watching from the sidelines. Single. With fifteen cats. No husband, no cute kids. No sexy husband that’s good with the cute kids…”

“Iris?” YN interrupts before the girl could carry on her rambling.

“Yeah?” The girl beamed, a sad smile crossing her lips.

“You’re doing it again,” YN sighed, dropping her hands to the top of her charts, “The thinking out loud. The crazy cat lady thing. I know you think that you’re making yourself feel better by speaking into the universe, but it’s just sad Iris.”

“You know what’s sad?” Iris sighed, and that’s when YN saw the glaze over her eyes again, “That I’m not going to have a hot doctor husband, and cute kids, and –”

“That’s it,” YN sighed, picking up her chart and moving away from her boyfriend, “I’m leaving. I can’t listen to this anymore.”

YN had taken all but two steps away from the desk when she felt someone’s arm knock into hers. She didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

YN and Harry had been living in bliss for the past six months. They had done this properly. They had been on dates, ‘proper’ dates as they had continued to call them, and every day just seemed to get better. That wasn’t to say that they hadn’t had their ups and downs. Two doctors, paediatricians at that, trying in a relationship would have its ups and downs. They were emotional, exhausted, and stubborn. That meant that every so often their heads butted together and it either ended up in them screaming at each other or just sitting in complete silence.

“What can’t you listen to anymore?” He asked, his shoulder brushing hers and they walked down the corridor.

YN sighed, “Iris is having her cat existential crisis again. I told you it was a bad idea for her to get a cat, and what did you say? You said it was a good idea, and now I’m –”

“Woah,” Harry stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down, “Now you’re having the cat existential crisis.”

YN sighed, lifting her hand to scratch her eyebrow, “She’s infecting me. Harry, we have to do something. You must have some single friends. Something. We need to fix this.”

“We don’t,” Harry shakes his head, “I know she’s your best friend and you –”

Whatever Harry was going to say next didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter because a scream came from down the hall. It wasn’t a good scream, and before anything else could be said the two of them were rushing down the hallway and into the room where the scream came from.

It was Paige. She was their latest patient, in for Lymphoma. It was a recent diagnosis – very recent and the girl was crying and screaming.  The nurse looked as though she was going to have a breakdown herself.

“She won’t let us put an IV in,” The nurse sighed, “We’ve tried everything, but she just keeps screaming.”

“It’s going to hurt!” Paige screamed back, wet hot tears streaming down her face as she looked between Harry and YN.

Harry looked at YN and she just nodded, “We’ll take it from here Kathy.”

The nurse nodded, leaving the room, and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. YN flinched slightly, but at the same time she knew how stressful children could be sometimes. She also knew that Kathy was coming off a long shift, and that could also factor into the stress.

“I’m sorry,” Paige’s mother spoke from the corner of the room, her eyes welling up just like her daughters were, “She’s never normally like this. I tried. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry smiled, dropping down onto the seat next to Paige’s bed, pulling some gloves onto his hands, “Needles are scary. They’re sharp, and they’re scary.”

“It’s going to hurt,” Paige whined, her chest wracking with more sobs, “It hurt last time, Dr. Styles, I don’t wanna hurt.”

Harry sighed, “It does hurt, I’m not going to lie to you, Paige.”

YN’s eyes furrowed as Harry spoke but shrugged off his jacket at the same time. He pulled the tourniquet out of the unopened IV kit and wrapped it around his arm, pulling it tight.

“It hurts, but only for a minute,” Harry smiled, “Dr. YLN here is going to show you how it’s done, and I’m going to explain every little step. Is that okay, Paige?”

Paige’s tears were still falling, but her breathing had slowed down slightly. YN pulled on another pair of gloves and prepped the needle.

“This rubber band is a tourniquet,” Harry explained, “You’ve probably had one before when you were having your blood taken. You see, it helps us to see your veins,” Harry pointed out the vein in his arm which had popped out. “Dr. YN here is going to insert the needle and… yes it’s going to hurt, and it’s hurting but now it’s not.”

When YN had finished putting the needle into Harry’s arm, she looked back up to see Paige’s tears had stopped and a small smile on her face.

“So,” Harry smiled, pulling the needle out and holding some cotton wool on his arm, “How about Dr YLN goes and gets a new IV kit, and your mother holds your hand whilst I do it, yeah?”

Paige smiles, nodding her head, “Yeah.”

Once YN had brought a new IV kit into the room, she just stood by the door – watching. She watched as Harry spoke to Paige through the IV, keeping the young girl calm throughout the entire thing. Just watching Harry and watching not only how good at his job he was but also how he acted around the children was everything that YN needed to know.

The icing on top of the cake was when he started to tease the young girl, pretending that he didn’t have any lollipops to give her, even though he had some in his coat pocket. YN smiled, watching as the girl who once had tears streaming down her cheeks was now laughing, playing with Harry, and trying to guess which pocket had the lollipops in.

YN walked out of the room with that cheesy smile on her face, trying not to make it obvious the reason why but she knew. Iris was still sitting behind the nurses’ station, and YN stopped in front of her and sighed.

“You’re right,” YN chuckled lightly, “We’re going to have really cute babies.”

“We did good today,” YN sighed, placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of Harry. YN dropped down next to him, accepting the space underneath his arm to squeeze into.

They had been on their feet a long time today, and just the fact that they were both now curled up on the sofa, with a glass of wine to soften the blow was all YN needed. Paige’s surgery had a few minor complications, but it was nothing that YN couldn’t handle. When Paige had woken up, the smile on her face knowing that she could finally eat the lollipop in a few hours that Harry had given her was enough for YN to know that it was worth it.

“We did,” Harry sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Paige is going to make a full recovery and she’ll be back on her feet in no time – all thanks to you.”

YN sighed, “Wouldn’t have even been able to operate without you.”

Harry just sighed, his lips ghosting over YN’s head. There was a change in the atmosphere, and YN could tell. Harry didn’t say anything else, and YN didn’t know whether he wanted to talk or not.

“You want to talk about it?” She spoke quietly, her finger drawing lines along his knee that was sprawled out in front of her.

Harry sighed against her, pressing another kiss to her head, “Not now. I will later though, I promise.”

“Okay,” YN smiled, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Can I tell you something?”

Harry hummed. YN hesitated for a second, not knowing whether this was the right time to do this or not. But then she remembered today, and she remembered that feeling that she had whilst she had been watching Harry with Paige. She remembered the tightness in her chest, and it wasn’t worry or stress. She knew what it was, and all she could hope was that he’d feel the same way.

“I think…” YN started but then she shook her head slightly, “No, I know. I know that I love you, Harry.”

Harry lifted his head from the top of YN’s head, turning so that she was looking at him. When YN’s eyes met his, she was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly filling up. YN lifted her hand to his face, placing her palm on his cheek and making sure that he was okay.

“I…” Harry started, and YN’s heart pummelled to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t tell. She had admitted to the man that she was the love of her life, the man who was it for her and she couldn’t tell what he was going to say. She froze. She froze, and then he smiled, “I love you.”

YN sighed, and it took everything in her to not pick up one of the cushions next to her and launch it at Harry’s head, “Don’t scare me like that again. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

“What?” He laughed, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek and then to the nape of her neck, “What do you mean?”

“Your face, and the silence and –” YN pulled away from him slightly, moving so that there was a gap between them. Until a wave of something covered her and before she knew it she was standing up, “Then the hesitation! You hesitated and you looked like you were going to cry, and then you hesitated to tell me that you love me!”

Harry sighed, sitting up with his knees open in front of her. Harry reached out for YN’s hands, but she pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I love you. I love you more than anything YN, and I know that it hasn’t been long – but I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you.”

YN sighed, but reached out and dropped her hands into Harry’s, “You’re not upset with me then?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I just… today, with Paige. That girl. She was so scared, so scared. Her parents were scared, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m a doctor, that’s what I am and the entire time all I could think about was you. In the surgery, I wondered how you were feeling, and what you might have wanted for dinner tonight.”

YN sighed, reaching forward to place a hand on his cheek – his face leaning into her touch.

“Harry…”

“I have never, ever not thought of the hospital, and my patients the entire day since I was a trainee. Then you come, and you’re always there – in the back of my mind. I love you so much, YN, and I would never hesitate to tell you that.”

YN didn’t say anything else. Instead, YN took a step forward. She grasped Harry’s face in her hands. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer until his head was resting upon her stomach. YN’s fingers slipped through his hair, right until they were at those curls at the bottom of his neck that she loved. She could feel his lips pressing tiny pecks into her stomach over her shirt. Using the curls, she tugged lightly to pull his face away from her stomach, and she could immediately lean down and capture his lips with hers.

YN sighed into the kiss, her body collapsing onto his until she was straddling him. His hands picked up speed, slipping underneath her shirt as hers tugged on his hair – their lips moving together at the same rate.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled against her lips, not stopping his kisses for even a second.

YN pulled away for a second, pushing his hair off his forehead, “Then show me… please.”

Harry nodded, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before helping YN up and off of the sofa. The two of them stumbled into YN’s bedroom quickly, their hands never leaving each other’s body.

It was new, it was exciting, and it was good. It was love.

Harry dropped down on the bed, and YN followed – dropping on his lap just as she had been on the sofa. His fingers fiddled with the edge of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra (it being the first thing to come off her body when she came home), and his lips immediately started placing kisses all over her chest and breasts.

“I love you,” He mumbled against her skin.

“Do you love me? Or do you love my boobs?”

Harry chuckled, his teeth grazing her nipple lightly, “I love you and I love your boobs… equally.”

YN laughed, pushing him away from her body lightly, “You’re such an idiot.”

“I am,” He placed her kiss on her chest, “I’m an idiot,” he placed another kiss on her neck, “But I’m an idiot who loves you.”

Piece by piece their clothing was removed, and whispers and kisses and giggles were shared until they were both naked. They had moved further up so that Harry’s back was pressed against the headboard, YN hovering above him.

Their movements started slow, YN sliding herself down onto Harry’s cock. The feeling was full, and amongst that, it was full of love. Harry’s hands landed on YN’s hips, helping her move whilst YN’s clutched the headboard. YN gasped into Harry’s mouth as she started to rotate her hips.

“Harry,” YN moaned into his mouth, one of her hands leaving the headboard to grasp his shoulder. Harry started to help her, his hips rolling up to meet hers, causing YN’s nails to press into the skin of his shoulder.

“Keep going for me, baby,” Harry mumbled, his head dropping down to YN’s shoulder – his lips grazing her skin, “Come on, keep going for me.”

YN sped up her hips, listening to Harry’s words of encouragement. There was no way that YN could be closer to Harry than she was at this moment, but with each thrust, she wanted to be.

“So wet for me baby,” Harry mumbled, “Doing so well for me baby.”

“Harry, please,” YN whined, her hips moving quicker and quicker with every passing moment, “I need more, I need you more.”

“You wanna switch?” Harry pulls his head up from her shoulder, looking directly into her eyes, “Just tell me, baby.”

YN’s hips stopped and with Harry’s help, she lifted herself off him. YN whimpered slightly at the loss of contact, but the second that she moved so that she was on her back, Harry was hovering over her.

“Harry, please,” YN’s hands clawed at his back, pulling him closer to her.

“You okay?” He asked, one hand on his cock to line it up with her entrance and the other one holding his body up by her head.

“Please,” YN nodded, her hands scratching down his back again, pushing lightly on the top of his ass, “Please Harry, I wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”

Harry didn’t hesitate to push inside of her, taking YN’s breath away. He moved forward so that their foreheads were touching each other’s. This was what YN wanted – what she needed. Each thrust of his hips felt as though he was bringing her closer and closer – not only to her orgasm but also to him.

“Harry,” YN whimpered, moving her lips onto Harry’s, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Harry picked up the pace, moving his hips faster and faster until he saw the tell-tale signs. YN’s breathing turned faster, and one of the hands that was on his back reached out to the bed next to her, screwing the sheets into her fist. It hadn’t taken Harry long to pick up the signs, listening to all of the signs that her body gave him. Once that switch was flipped, Harry knew exactly what to do.

“It’s okay, baby,” Harry mumbled against her lips, one of his hands slipping down between their bodies so that he could roll her clit between his fingers, “Let go for me, always look so pretty when you come for me – so pretty.”

“Harry, I’m so close,” YN’s hips moved up to meet Harry’s. The mixture of both Harry’s cock inside of her and also his fingers on her clit, speeding the process along – that was all that YN needed. Her orgasm raked through her body, a line of whimpers escaping her lips, along with a string of Harry’s name. Harry coaxed her through her orgasm, not stopping his pace until he saw the signs.

Harry came not long after, his body going rigid against YN’s. Harry’s head leant down to capture YN’s lips with his again, slowing his hips down until he came to a complete stop inside her. He dropped down – his body weight falling upon YN’s. She felt comfort with it, his body weight pressed on hers.

Silence fell between the two of them, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later when Harry moved to slip out of YN that any sound was made in the room apart from the sound of their breathing. YN felt an emptiness inside of her, but once Harry was laid at her side she wasted no time in moving closer to him. She lipped his leg in between his, her arm wrapping around his chest and resting on his shoulder.

“I…” YN started, her finger lifting to run down Harry’s cheek ever so lightly, “Think you’re a good omen.”

“What?” Harry smiled, tilting his head down slightly so that he could look at her, where her head was resting on his shoulder.

“A good omen,” YN shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I think… you were brought to me to show me that everything is going to be okay.”

“It is going to be okay,” Harry nodded, lifting his hand to brush her hair off her forehead, “Everything is going to be okay.”

It wasn’t that YN believed in anything like that. She didn’t believe in signs before all of this but now. Now, she believed that Harry was her sign. He was her sign.

He was her good omen.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles

[dfortrafalgar]

Distraction

Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.

Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)

Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet.  All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts.  Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.

“What’s got you so nervous over there?”  Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze.  “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road.  Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.

His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog.  It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was.  But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach.  Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.

It was a good life, that’s for sure.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend.  “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern.  “Ace, are you really alright?  Your face is kind of red.”  You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead.  “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”

“Nah, I feel fine.  Honestly.  Just… thinking.”  One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks.  All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area.  He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain.  He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles.  (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)

“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good.  I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.

He needed to tell you to stop talking.  Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.

He might as well have been ovulating.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline.  The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky.  A few small beach houses dotted the shore.

“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.

Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit.  “Public, but very minimal.  There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”

You grinned.  “Nice.”

“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.

“I don’t mind them,” you replied.  “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous.  Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!”  Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

The parking lot seemed sparse.  It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there.  Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot.  During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.

You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.

“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.

“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers.  You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.  

Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion.  You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.

Little prick.

The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand.  You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight.  Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight.  The thought made you smile.  You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.

“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly.  “I’ll be right back.”  He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.

You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees.  You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag.  Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away.  Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other.  While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves.  And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.

And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked.  The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.

Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed.  The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved.  He really needed to get that fixed.  He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.

He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.

Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you.  The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust.  Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face.  The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.

Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.

You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder.  “Hey!  All set with the cooler?”

He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud.  “Yeah, all set…”  His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.

“You… you look…”  Ace could barely look at you.  “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”

Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense.  The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure.  Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.

“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him.  Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.

“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.

You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening.  “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”

Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth.  The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.

He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time.  He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door.  You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside.  He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.

He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.

After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.

The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats.  It was a car built for fucking.

“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue.  “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”

Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side.  Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass.  The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms.  “Are you ovulating?  You’re acting like me before my period.”

“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue.  You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek.  His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat.  Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz.  Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.

“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk.  “Hmm… not too worried.”

“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.  

He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue.  A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect.  He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay.  Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.

Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.

“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him.  “Your suit stays on.”

Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand.  You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top.  God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.

“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up.  A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.

“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations.  “I don’t even know where to begin.”

You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach.  You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight.  “You’re so pretty…” you muttered.  You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.

Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude.  Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased.  This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth.  The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.

Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit.  You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.  

And goodness, did he taste good.  A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest.  His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.  

On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him.  Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him.  He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head.  Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.

He knew you too well.  He knew what you needed.  Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship.  You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures.  You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area.  Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.

You learned quickly too, however.  Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip.  He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers.  He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.

You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand.  “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder.  Not like you could see much.

Ace paused his motions against your pussy.  “... Maybe.”

You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter.  You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.

Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless.  The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze.  Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.

After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours.  You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.

“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.

“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.

Usually, the two of you used lube.  It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing.  But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today.  Nor did you have any condoms.  Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock.  You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.  

The first insertion always hurt somewhat.  A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle.  The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.  

That was another thing you loved about him.  He was loud.

Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less.  Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.

You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms.  You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit.  It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right.  Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.

Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today.  Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.

Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him.  His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.

Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell.  He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds.  This angle always fit the both of you.  As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits.  His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass.  His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear.  Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered.  The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.

Ace was barely holding it together.  The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction.  His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him.  The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs.  Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.

“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat.  “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure.  Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement.  A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat.  His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.  

Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were.  You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.

Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand.  You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.

Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing.  His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm.  A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids.  You felt wet between your legs.  It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky.  You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up.  You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car.  The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.

You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit.  You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.

He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth.  “I think my heart almost stopped.”

You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin.  “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often?  I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”

Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin.  “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.”  He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips.  “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace smut #ace x reader smut #portgas d ace x reader smut #smut #op smut #one piece smut #ace oneshot

[haveyouseenherlately]

thinking about riding Matty while his hands are tied behind his back yummy yummy monday evening thoughts

oh my god anon, thank you for this.

are you in my head? because this is something i've been wanting to chat about regarding soft subby bf matty but haven't gone around to doing a proper blurb so here are some ramblings that i hope make sense. it's just a run-on stream of consciousness thing with no formatting and no real ending. i also got too carried away so it is a longer one lol

warning: 18+, smut, reader is upset. grammatical errors, typos.

other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.

okay, so imagine you just got home from a fucking awful day of work. freaking debbie from accounting is back at it, making your job impossible and a living hell. who knows what her problem is. anyway. right away when you enter the apartment you are greeted by the scent of a delicious pasta that your dear bf matty is preparing because he's one damn good cook (it's canon for him, lol). you go to the kitchen and sit at the bar, watching as matty whips up the alfredo sauce which is your favourite. matty greets you without looking at first because he's too focused on getting the proper cheese to cream ratio for the sauce, but once he does, he knows right away that something's off.

bad day, huh?

you make some sort of confirming grunt before you rest your forehead on the cold marble countertop. because your head is down, you don't notice the sad expression on matty's face; he cares about you too much so anytime you're feeling down he cannot help but feel upset, too. he takes one last taste of the sauce (perfect!) before he pulls it off the fire and places it on a trivet. as much as he loves cooking and prepping dinner for you, he wants to make you feel better. so the pasta can wait. bless him.

he takes off his denim apron (which has a drawing of a rooster on the front, for some reason...) before heading over to your side. you feel the warm palm of his hand rub your back in the gentlest of ways while his other grabs your hand. c'mon darling. you raise your head to finally look at your surroundings again only to realize that he stove burners are off and his apron is crumpled on the countertop.

matty, what about the food, i know you like finish-

don't worry about it, love, the food will still taste good later on. let's go.

you're not one to deny him, so you get off the stool and follow his lead as he takes you over to the living room, guiding you to both to sit on the sofa.

he asks about your day as he knows talking makes you feel better in these sort of occasions but it catches him off guard (and you as well, truly) when you just start sobbing uncontrollably as you recount your day. the stress and pressure has been building in your body that all you can really do is cry out of frustration. matty instantly brings you close so you're straddling him, arms wrapped tightly around you, trying to provide some sort of comfort as the tears just stream down your face soaking the fabric of his shirt. your head is buried in the crook of his neck, giving him access to gently kiss the skin of your exposed neck, continuously whispering it's okay, it's okay.

and everything is usually okay, but this time you cannot help but feel an overwhelming mixture of anger and exhaustion. it's bad enough that you've subconsciously grabbed fistfuls of your boyfriend's curly hair, and when you realize you're doing so, you instantly jerk away, apologizing profusely while more tears streak down your face.

oh no, i'm sorry. i'm so sor--

he urgently but carefully grabs your face between his hands, bringing his forehead against yours. it's okay, it's okay. everything feels like too much right now, that not even the sensation of his gentle fingers on your face can soothe whatever is brewing inside you.

and at that moment you cannot help but kiss him. hard, fast and hungrily. he whimpers against your lips at the shock of it all, but doesn't hesitate to kiss you back, letting you take the lead and set the pace. teeth clashing against each other, you bitting at his bottom lip, shoving your tongue in his mouth constantly. it's messy and aggressive but he doesn't stop you, only pulling away to catch your breath, looking down at the crumbled fabric of his now over stretched shirt clenched in between your fingers.

seeing his dishevelled state--red swollen lips, unruly hair, wrinkled top--is enough to edge you on to continue, now focusing on leaving marks all over his neck, around the several necklaces that he wears. there's nothing gentle about it, a sharp contrast as to how softly he's holding on to your waist. you lick, bite, suck at any skin that you find, leaving behind countless bruises along the way as he moans uncontrollably underneath you. your left hand is back on his hair, pulling at it so his neck is exposed, while your right one is aimlessly trying to unbutton his pants but failing miserably. god knows you're already frustrated enough, so you just grab one of matty's hands and bring it over to the front of his jeans so he can undo the pesky button and zipper himself. once he's done, he places your palm back at the top of his pants, giving him a mumbled thank you before you slide your fingers under the fabric of his boxers.

you waste no time and start stroking his cock as fast as you can, all while you desperately kiss him leaving you both breathless once more. because of your erratic pace, it doesn't take long for matty to begin losing control. you know he's getting near his climax because of the way his legs are starting to shake and how close he pulls your body against him. however, you're too deep in whatever trance has possessed over you, that you take your hand away as to not let him finish. not yet at least.

and before he says anything about it, you get off his lap and on to your feet, dragging him up with you so you can take off his pants and underwear completely. you instruct him to remove his shirt and you swear he's never done it faster in his life. instantly your lips are clashing against each other for the millionth time that night, giving you the chance to reach behind your head and undo the white silk scarf holding up your ponytail. again, you're not entirely sure what's taken over your mind and body, but before you know it, you tie matty's wrists behind his back.

you push him down on the couch, bitting your bottom lip and silently asking him if this is alright. the fucked out expression and small smile tugging at the corner of his lips is all the confirmation you need.

please.

you take off your soaked underwear but decide to keep your floral cotton dress on because you know it's his favourite. it's the least you can do for how you've been treating him. not that he minds; it's quite the opposite in fact. with each of your knees to his sides, you straddle him for the second time that night, grabbing his cock and guiding him to your cunt before you sink down and take him all at once.

and it fucking hurts. having him inside you without any foreplay is probably a stupid choice, but part of you hopes that the pain can help take away some of the anger and resentment built up in your body not only from that day, but weeks and months prior. more tears end up streaming down your face. from the pain or anger, you don't know. probably both.

hey, hey. love are you ok-?

you cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything else, but you look at him and nod, glassy eyes assuring him that it is okay. he returns an understanding, soft look, and that's when you finally begin to move your hips, grinding hard against his dick so you can feel every single inch of him inside you. in that instant you see his brown eyes roll to the back of his head, mumbling a fuck against the palm of your hand. you work yourself up to a steady pace, switching between grinding and moving up and down his cock to hit that spot inside you which makes you delusional.

with your fingers still over his open mouth, you can hear his muffled moans, his spit now covering the palm of your hand and dripping down his chin. it's fucking obscene sight but one that you hope you'll never forget.

making sure that his eyes are on yours, you finally take the hand off his mouth. his gaze follows as you take your soaked fingers and guide them under your dress, your high pitched moans a clear sign that you have started to rub your clit.

oh my fucking god.

he snaps his head up to look at you with the most lustful yet loving expression on his face. the adoration radiating off him is too much for you to handle and you cannot help but smile, the first time you’d done so during that whole day. there is no more pain, no more tears, just pure pleasure running through your body, washing away the frustration.

thank you.

#sorry for ending it there #hope this makes some sense #bf matty blurb #anon asks #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #bf matty #matty healy smut #smutty asks #matty asks #bf matty asks

[joonsmagicshop]

Bad Idea....right?

Summary: Sneaking into your enemy Jung Hoseok's party to make Kim Taehyung jealous is a bad idea....right?

Paring: Reader/Hoseok (Taehyung, Jimin Jungkook and Namjoon are characters)

Word Count: 8K

Rating: M 18+

Tags: A/U, smut, making someone jealous, douchebag jimin, douchebag taehyung, Dom hobi, best friend namjoon, enemies to lovers, getting ghosted, confessing feelings, fingering, eating pussy, hickies, spanking, Dom Hobi but also soft sweet hobi, penetrative sex, teasing.

Authors Note: I've been reading a lot enemies to lovers and decided to try it out for myself. Because I write so much Namjoon I wanted to broaden my writing so Hobi it is. This was fun to write.

“Hey, Joon!” You say trying to balance the phone on your shoulder as you lean in to apply another layer of mascara, dropping your phone on your vanity in the process.

You let out a frustrated sigh and put him on speaker as you continue to work on your makeup.

“What happened are you okay?” He asks voice laced with concern.

“Yeah I’m okay Joon just dropped my phone. What are you up to tonight?” You ask as you flutter your eyelashes and begin to work on pulling your hair back into a half updo.

“Not much just got a new book I’ve been dying to read so just ordered some dinner and going to read.'“ He says as you softly smile.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Oh you know….not much.” You say as sweetly as you can.

“Y/N I’ve known you for too long to know when you are telling the truth or lying. That was your lying voice.” He replies as you roll your eyes and finally get your hair in a style you like.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You tease as you hear him chuckle on the other line.

He knows you too well.

“Y/N please just tell me what you are up to.” He sighs as you stand from your vanity to run your hands down your outfit.

“Well, I called because I did want to know how your night was going. Honest. I also wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me tonight… somewhere.” You say softly.

“Go out where?” Namjoon’s voice is laced with suspicion and it makes you want to laugh. He was always the rock in your friendship, the stable, logical one. You were more wild and free, doing what you wanted and dragging him along for the ride.

“To a party.” You say apprehensively as you hear Namjoon let out an audible groan on the other end.

“It’s not his party is it?” Namjoon asks and you fiddle with your black sheer top.

“Who’s party are you referring to? You tease.

“Jung Hoseok.” Namjoon spits out and you grimace.

The silence on your end tells Namjoon everything he needs to know.

“Y/N, please. Please tell me you are not thinking of sneaking into Jung Hoseok’s house party tonight. You both are going to tear each other apart and I’m not breaking you out of jail when you break his face.” Namjoon sighs sounding weary.

“Relax Namjoon he won’t even know I’m there. Besides I’m not going for him.” You assure him.

“You both hate each other, loathe each other because you tell me how much you hate him all day every day and you think you can sneak into his party unnoticed? Come on Y/N.” Namjoon says as you start to shove things you need into a beaded bag.

“So if not to break his face then what reason do you need to sneak into a house party and drag me along? And if you say Kim Taehyung I’m hanging up on you.” Namjoon says and you bite your lip.

He knows you too damn well.

“Y/N Please tell me you are not going to this party because of Kim Taehyung. Promise me.” He pleads.

“I can’t promise you that Joonie.” You say in a small voice as Namjoon lets out a frustrated groan.

“He went on a date with you and Ghosted you. Poof. Gone. And now you want to sneak into Hoseok’s to do what exactly?” Namjoon grills you as you begin to pace your room.

“I want to go to this party and find a hot stranger to dance with and make him see what he is missing out on.” You respond trying to fight the hurt in your chest.

“Y/N it’s not worth it. He is not worth it. Kim Taehyung is trash, ghosting you like that. Please don’t go it’s such a bad idea.” He pleads but it’s too late, your phone alerts you that your ride is here.

“Namjoon my ride is here. I’m going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You assure him, or maybe yourself as you slip on your heels and head towards the front door.

“Y/N you can come over here and we can hang out. I’ll make you tea and we can talk and watch those romance movies you love. You don’t need to sneak into this party you don’t need to make Taehyung jealous he is so not worth it and if he can’t see your worth he’s trash in my eyes, and Hoseok I mean you hate him. Hate him down to his bones and you want to take a chance running into him. Please this is a bad idea. Taehyung is not worth it.” Namjoon pleads over the phone.

“See ya Joon. I’ll keep you up to date.” You say as you hang up and slip your phone in your beaded bag.

Time to show Kim Taehyung what he is missing out on.

Jung Hoseok lives across town so you lean your head against the car window as it navigates the busy Friday night streets.

You can feel your phone vibrating in your beaded bag but you don’t bother to take it out, you know it’s Namjoon trying to talk you out of going to this party.

He just doesn’t understand.

You met Taehyung at a coffee shop. You had just gotten your laptop out and were setting up to work when he approached your table.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, with dark hair that fell over his eyes and a shy boxy smile.

He apologized for intruding but the seat across from you was the only one left and he really wanted to get some work done.

The table was big enough for two so you introduced yourself and let him share your table. He seemed shy and quiet which you didn’t mind and after only an hour of work, you found your eyes drawn over the top of your computer to his handsome face which was screwed up in concentration.

He caught you and you both blushed, he gave up work to chat with you and give you his number.

He seemed so nice in the beginning, and the first date you had was lovely but after, that radio silence.

He seemed to disappear off the face of the planet and even though it was just one date you felt crushed that it didn’t work out or go further.

No matter how many times Namjoon had told you Taehyung was trash, even asking around to find out that he ghosted people quite often and it was a regular thing, your heart couldn’t let go of the shy cute boy in the cafe.

So when you heard about this party and knew that Taehyung was a close friend of your enemy Jung Hoseok you jumped at the chance to make him see what he was missing out on, to make him jealous and overall make him wish he didn’t ghost you.

As for Jung Hoseok, well he was just a know-it-all stuck-up douchebag. You shared some of the same friends so he always seemed to just…be around. You got along like Fire and Gasolene and both of you were not afraid to have full-blown arguments in front of anyone and everyone. Namjoon had to drag you away a couple of times when the fight got too heated.

Hoesok thought you were too stuck up and prissy, you thought he was a know-it-all with too big of an ego. There was no catalyst, no driving force you both just hated each other from day one.

Namjoon was right though, sneaking into a party, especially Jung Hoseoks's party was a bad idea, you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself, knowing that it would be a chance for you to see Taehyung again.

The party was in full swing by the time your cab dropped you off at the curb. You handed him some money and straightened yourself out as he pulled away leaving you standing on the sidewalks in the dark, the only sounds coming from the giant house in front of you.

Another reason you hated Hoseok, he was rich, filthy rich, and liked to flaunt it by throwing grand parties and plastering it all over his social media.

Not that you followed him on social media, you just happened to look a couple of times.

You held your bag close to your body as you walked up to the front door, your heart was hammering in your chest, and you grabbed for the knob to turn it and swing the door open.

You were met with strobe lights and blasting music, the smell of sweat, sex, and weed permeated the air as you stepped over the threshold and clutched your bag.

You hunched over trying to make yourself small as you navigated the packed house trying your best to find Taehyung before Hoseok found you.

The living room was tightly packed with people as you tried to nudge your way in, the kitchen was even worse and as you stood on your tiptoes to search for a mop of dark hair you got nudged and pushed into the wall.

You rubbed your sore arm but the person who nudged you didn’t seem to care, just as soon as they hit you they were swallowed by the crowd.

You had to find Taehyung but navigating this crowd was almost impossible.

You finally pushed and nudged yourself into the kitchen and poured yourself a drink trying to calm your nerves, with all the people you were starting to feel claustrophobic.

You feel a hand on your arm and you flinch when you look up to see Park Jimin staring down at you, his eyes glassy and gaze unfocused.

“Hey Y/N didn’t know you’d be here tonight.” He slurs, breath fanning your face reeking of booze.

You cringe

“Yeah well, it was kind of a last-minute decision.” You reply trying to inch away from him.

Park Jimin was one of Taehyung’s closest friends and was known to be a total fuck boy. Even the way he was looking at you right now made you feel like he was undressing you with his eyes.

You wanted to get away from him as soon as possible and keep searching the party. You’d never tell Jimin that you were looking for Taehyung, he would probably just laugh in your face.

“Mhmm, you should come dance with me.” He slurs as his hands grab for your hips. You try to push him off of you but he has you backed against a wall.

“No, I’m good I’m not much of a dancer” You reply almost yelling at him over the beat of the new song that is playing.

“So yes you will?” He shouts as he leans in, breath fanning over your cheeks as you put your hands on his chest to try to push him away.

“No Jimin. No, thank you!” You shout as the music seems to get louder, or maybe that is the blood pounding in your ears.

You fist your hands into his shirt and try to push him away but he is strong.

“Come dance with me Y/N you look so fucking hot tonight.” He growls in your ear, hands roaming your hips.

You gasp for air trying to make eye contact with someone, anyone in the kitchen to come save you. Your hands grab Jimin’s to keep them from inching further up your naked legs as you try to push him off of you.

Panic sets in when he doesn’t stop and starts to grind his bulge against you. You are trying your best to get him off of you, begging him to leave you alone.

You want to shout out for Taehyung to help you, for Namjoon who is on the other side of town to help you, for someone, anyone, to push Jimin off of you.

Right as you close your eyes and steady yourself to give him a huge shove a hand comes up to his shoulder and peels him off of you.

Your eyes snap open and you stare at Jimin who is unsteady on his feet, grabbing the table he nearly got flung into for support.

You look up to your savor, appreciation dies on your lips when you see it is Jung Hoseok, staring you down as if you are dirt under his newest pair of shoes.

Well fuck.

“Park Jimin go drink some water you drunk fuck and if I catch you doing this to anyone else at this party I will chop your balls off. Understand?” Hoseok barks out as he continues to stare you down.

“Relax Hobi I was just having some fun,” Jimin grumbles as he rubs at his side where it hit the table.

You are still plastered against the wall panic still rising in your throat as Hoseok breaks your gaze to stare at Jimin in disgust.

“As I said I will chop your balls clean off your body if you do that again. If someone says no they mean no Jimin. Now get out of here.” Hoseok demands as Jimin shoots him a dirty look and leaves the kitchen getting swallowed up by the crowd

You swallow hard when Hoseok’s narrowed eyes land on you. You have never felt intimidated by him but something about him staring you down left all the insults you wanted to shout at him dead on your tongue.

“Well, well, well. Sneaking into a party you were most definitely not invited to, trying to hide in the crowd so I don’t spot you then needing me to come save you. Ironic huh? The one person you didn’t want to see saved your ass.'“ He coos at you as you finally peel yourself from the wall and stare him down.

"I think the words you are looking for are Thank You.” He says with a sly smirk which has your blood boiling.

“I was fine. I didn’t need your help.” You spit at him staring him down, heart racing in your chest.

“Believe me love, Park Jimin wouldn’t have stopped unless I peeled his sorry ass off of you. A simple thank you won’t kill you.” His eyes roam your body “Or maybe it will, don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words.”

You grit your teeth wishing you had a drink in your hand so you could throw it at his beautiful face.

“Whatever Hoseok. I’m not here to fight you anyway. Or here for stupid Park Jimin to grope me.” You say gaze leaving his so you can scan the crowd some more, eyes still not seeing that mess of brown hair that belongs to Taehyung.

“Well seeing as you snuck into this party I can only assume you didn’t want to see me at all. You’re here for Kim Taehyung aren’t you?” He says with a quirk of his eyebrow as your mouth drops.

He throws back his head and laughs and you want to hit him, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“So predictable.” He purrs as your hands bawl into fists at your side. You really hope Namjoon was kidding about not breaking you out of jail because you feel very close to punching Hoseok right in the mouth.

“Shut up Hoseok you don’t know anything.” You say shooting him a death glare as you cross your arms over your chest and try to look intimidating, which doesn’t work because you are a whole head shorter than him even in heels.

“Oh, I know plenty of things.” He comments, his eyes sparkling as they lock with yours.

“I know how he went on a date with you. Ghosted you. And how he came to this party with some blonde chick hanging all over him. I saw them maybe twenty minutes ago. Looked like they were headed outside.” He says leaning in, his eyes wander your body again and you shiver.

“And I can only assume Kim Namjoon is around here somewhere, asshole couldn’t even pull Jimin off you so I had to?”

You swallow hard.

“No, he stayed home tonight. Just me here.” You respond

“Good choice. I always thought he was smart.” Hoseok says as someone bumps into him, sending him nearly crashing into you if he didn’t hold onto the wall above your head.

Your eyes flit up to meet his, his breath is warm on your face and every fiber of your being is confused between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run far far away from him.

“How do I know you're not lying to me.” You whisper as you feel his body press into yours further.

“I could be. Or maybe I’m not. How many laps around my house are you going to do before you realize I’m right? Wow, two thank yous in one night. I think you might collapse under the pressure.” He teases as he pushes away from the wall giving you space to breathe.

You aren’t sure what to say. Or how to feel. The only thing you know is you should get out of here. Now. You have embarrassed yourself enough for one night and you knew in your heart that Hoseok would never let you live it down.

Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped mouth and you swallow.

For a brief instant, you wonder what they would feel like pressed against yours and that’s when you know it’s time to leave. You are completely sober wanting Jung Hoseok to kiss you. Times up, games over, time to leave.

You push yourself off the wall and try to move past him but his hand is quick on your hip pulling you back as you growl at him in frustration.

“And where do you think you're going?” He coos, long fingers keeping you in place.

“I’m leaving. You don’t want me here anyway. Goodbye.” You grit out clenching your teeth.

“What and I don’t get my thank yous? Seems kind of harsh. I was a gentleman tonight after all. Your knight in shining armor if you will.” He teases as his one hand runs down the front of his black shirt, puffing out his chest to you.

“You're no better than Park Jimin holding me here against the wall.” You bite back trying once again to push past him only to be blocked.

“Park Jimin doesn’t take no for an answer. I do. Just say the word and I’m gone.” He growls as his lips come down to ghost your neck and you shiver.

What the fuck is going on.

You hate Jung Hoseok with every fiber of your being.

You have hated him since you first lay eyes on him

So why did you feel so turned on, and flustered at him pining you against a wall?

You could say no.

You could walk away.

You could get a cab and go to Namjoon’s and cry into his arms about how Taehyung clearly moved on.

But you didn’t do any of those things

You didn’t want to do any of those things.

Something about fighting with Hoseok set off a fire in you that you weren’t sure how to extinguish but you knew you needed more.

“Do you ever shut up?” You fight back weakly as his lips curl into a devilish smile.

“Ah, so instead of saying thank you we are playing the insult game.” He says voice low as he dips his head down to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear.

Even in the warm kitchen you shiver and you feel him grin.

“Hoseok.” You almost whine out closing your eyes and hating the way you sound, so broken, so desperate for a man you can’t stand.

“Shall we do a lap and see if we can find your precious Taehyung? I know all the best hiding spots. This is my house after all.” He purrs in your ear.

Taehyung

Right

That’s why you were here.

“You said he was gone.” You whisper as people walk by unaware of the turmoil going on in your mind.

You aren’t sure if you want to kiss him or hit him but you need to keep him talking until you figure it out.

“Ah, so you did believe me?” He teases, letting his hand that is resting on your hip play with the hem of your shirt.

You suck in a breath.

“I don’t know what to believe, You are a dick after all. Isn’t this all just a game to you?” You ask trying to keep your voice steady when his long fingers slip under your shirt to play with your heated skin.

“Maybe? Maybe not. That’s for you to decide. This is my house. My party. And I graciously pulled Jimin off of you and made sure you were okay. That doesn’t seem like dick behavior to me.” He teases as his hand traces your skin higher. You arch into his touch and he chuckles low and dark in your ear.

His hands continue to move higher and any insult you want to throw back at him leaves your brain. You can’t think, can’t focus when his fingers touch you like that

His long fingers graze the bottom of your bralette making you gasp and shiver as he chuckles darkly in your ear.

Just as you are about to say something, do something a hand taps his shoulder and Hoseok whips around to see Jungkook standing there blushing wildly and looking like he wants to be anywhere else.

“Sorry, Hyung you said to come get you if something happened. Someone broke a vase upstairs there’s glass all over the floor. I’ll clean it I just want to know where your stuff is?” He asks timidly as his big brown eyes land on you and he shyly smiles.

“It’s fine Kook I’ll clean it myself.” He says pushing away from you as you feel air start to enter your lungs again.

Hoseok turns to you and you can finally take him in, how wild he looks, how his eyes are dark clouded with lust, and how his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

You feel your legs tremble from his look alone.

“Upstairs, turn right last door on the right. Or leave. Your choice.” He says to you shooting you a wink and looping an arm around Jungkook as he heads off to find cleaning supplies.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, your pussy is throbbing and soaking wet and you can’t seem to catch your breath

What the fuck

What the actual fuck.

You push your way out of the kitchen and head to the backyard where a group of people seem to be milling about and smoking.

You stay far away from them and tuck yourself into a small secluded area as you take several deep breaths and try to calm down.

You don’t like Hoseok

There is no way you do, no way you can.

But there was something about him tonight that was so attractive it made you feel things that you most definitely thought you’d never. Ever. Feel for him

You take your time staring up at the sky and catching your breath when you hear a high-pitched giggle echo over the backyard.

You snap your head up to see Kim Taehyung holding the hand of some blonde girl and pushing her up against the side of the house. You watch as his lips find her neck and he peppers kisses down them, her little squeals and moans echoing throughout the yard though neither of them seem to care they have an audience.

You feel your throat tighten and your chest ache.

Namjoon was right Taehyung wasn’t thinking about you and he totally wasn’t worth it.

And the worst part of it all had nothing to do with Taehyung.

It was the fact that Jung Hoseok was right. Taehyung did come here with someone else.

You push yourself from your hiding place and head across the yard to go find Hoseok. You are not sure why you need to see him, you could leave right now and forget this whole thing but something inside you is telling you to find him. Maybe it’s all the emotion swirling inside you ready to explode, maybe you just want to fight someone to get all this anger, frustration, and sorrow out.

Either way, you make your way across the yard, the blood pounding in your ears deafens the moans the girl is letting out when Taehyung grinds himself into her.

He doesn’t even notice you crossing the yard, not that it matters anymore.

You make your way back into the house pushing past the crowd of people as you make your way up the stairs. You turn right and stare at the last door on the right, heart hammering wildly in your chest as you approach it.

You knock and without warning you let yourself in.

The room is massive with a huge king-sized bed in the middle. You’d take a second to appreciate the decor if your eyes weren’t so focused on the man sprawled out on the bed, face illuminated by the soft overhead lighting, long fingers scrolling his phone.

His eyes snap up to yours and he sends you a devilish grin that has your toes curling as he throws his phone to the side and you step through the doorway to slam the door closed muffling the party below.

He sits up on the bed and parts his legs, spreading them wide as you walk up to him.

You stand proud between his spread legs as he looks up at you, taking his time to push his hair back from his face.

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen close. Thank you for saving me from Jimin. Thank you for not lying to me about Taehyung. I saw him. He’s here.” You grit out keeping your hands bawled into fists at your side.

“And you're still standing and haven’t been turned to dust by those thank yous. I’m surprised.” He teases as you frown at him.

“I think the words you are looking for are you’re welcome.” You tease back as he grins at you.

There is a strange silence that hangs in the air. You said all you needed to and had every intention of turning around and storming out, but something was holding you in place maybe it was Hoseok’s intense gaze.

“So you saw him then?” He asks softly, all the bite in his voice gone.

You nod your head feeling too exhausted to fight

“Did you…talk to him?” Hoseok asks and you are surprised at his question. All the two of you ever did was argue and fight, this was the first normal conversation you had with him in ages.

“No, I did not.” You say avoiding looking at him, instead finally taking in the decor of the room as a welcome distraction.

“You came all this way, snuck into a party you were not invited to, and tried to avoid me only to find him and not talk to him. Y/N you aren’t a coward I know that for sure.” He teases.

“He was preoccupied with someone else.” You say trying your best to avoid his gaze.

His hands come out to hold your wrists and he runs his thumbs over your palm in soothing circles.

“When he told me about the date I warned him to stay away from you. He’s my friend but I also know what he has a habit of doing. He didn’t believe me. Thought I was saying that because of how…we are. I’m sorry Y/N you must have been excited about him to go through all this trouble.” He says as you stare down at him in shock.

“Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?” You ask flinching out of his grasp. This is all too much, this isn’t how it is with Hoseok and it’s throwing you off.

“Maybe because I do care? Ever thought of that.” He bites out standing from the bed as you cower under his intense gaze.

“N-No you don’t… don’t lie to me Hoseok.” You spit out feeling off-kilter at the new information.

Hoseok advances towards you until you are flushed up against the door. His hands come to rest above your head and he looks down at you with such anger in his features it makes you shiver.

“Like I lied about Kim Taehyung being here? Like I lied about who he came with? You keep painting me as a villain so I became your villain.” He growls in your ear.

You gasp when he slots his knee in between your legs and grinds it against your aching core, your skirt rides up and your flimsy underwear does nothing to hide your arousal as you grip his shirt for support.

“You know what. I’m going to lay it all out and well… you already hate me so it can’t get worse right?” He mutters as he pushes his knee harder into your core making you let out a high-pitched whine.

“You think I like arguing with you? Fighting with you? Do you think I like that I can’t have a normal conversation with you? I do it because it gets your attention. It’s a shit way to do it but you always have guys surrounding you, talking to you, complimenting you. And I can’t compete with that. So I get you angry, make you feel things so you keep your eyes on me. I’ve liked you for so long and you never wanted to give me a chance but if I get you mad… I get you. It’s shit I know I’m not proud of it. But it works. You came to this party for Taehyung but you're soaking wet right now for me and me only.” He growls as you arch your head back when one of his hands leaves the wall to trace down your side.

“You-hold on… you like me?” You breathe out as your head feels dizzy and you stare at his handsome face.

“God I’ve liked you for ages.” He whispers breath hot on your neck as he leans down and presses a soft sweet kiss to your exposed neck making you shiver and grip his shirt for dear life.

"Hobi.” You whine out as his eyes snap to yours.

You have never called him that before. It was always Hoseok.

“Use your words. Tell me?” He asks voice strained as he continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Please I can’t- I-.” You say breathlessly as you push him away trying to regain breath.

Hobi backs away and shoots you a dejected look as he stares at the floor, hair falling in front of his beautiful face.

Before you can speak, or explain he points to the door.

“You should go.” He mutters as he turns his back to you and flops back down on the bed.

You watch as he flops down and buries his face in the pillows. He looks so dejected and sad and your head is still spinning trying to process it all. He likes you. He confessed to liking you. No matter how much you thought you didn’t like him you can’t leave him like this.

You silently walk over and sit down on the bed, your hand comes out to rub soothing circles on his back.

He looks over to see you are still there and he slowly sits up.

“You can go. Don’t feel guilty and want to stay. You pushed me away. You don’t like me back. I get it.” He rambles fiddling with the bedspread not looking at you.

“Hobi. I just… I didn’t mean to give you that impression it’s just hard to think when you were pressing your knee into me like that. My body and brain couldn’t function.” You say with a small smile as his eyes finally snap up to yours.

“Let’s go back a bit. You like me?” You ask as he whines and covers his face with his hands.

“You don’t like me back. I get it. Don’t make me admit it again.” He says voice small and vulnerable as you grab his wrists to pull his hands away from his face.

“I never said I didn’t.”

His eyes widen.

“I came here for Taehyung but in the kitchen… I wanted to kiss you. I made you angry, I kept you talking because I wanted to buy myself more time so I could figure my feelings out. I’ve never thought about kissing you before.” You admit as he buries his face behind his hands and groans.

“Well, thanks that’s promising.” He responds as you pull him in for a hug trying to comfort him.

“Hobi you have liked me for a while and had tons of time to process your feelings. I haven’t. Two hours ago I thought I hated you.” You admit as he pulls out of your hug to stare at you.

“And now? How do you feel now?” He asks.

“Like I still really want to know what your lips taste like.” You say shyly

Hobi jumps up from the bed and for a second you wonder if you scared him off but he goes over to lock his bedroom door and races back to the bed.

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He whispers breath hot against your face as he kneels on the floor before you.

You look down at him, his handsome face, eyes blown wide and you nod.

You place your hands on his shoulders for support and lean in as Hobi wastes no time pressing his lips into yours. His lips are soft and sweet and he takes his time with you, his tenderness surprising you as he keeps his hands respectfully on the bed.

You push your lips into his deepening the kiss and tangle your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck which causes a low groan to fall from his mouth.

You gasp and pull away as he stares up at you through heavy lids.

“Fuck Hobi.” You mutter, eyes flicking down to his lips which are slightly red from kissing, and when you look further down you can see a sizeable bulge tenting the front of his black pants.

“You are so hot when you moan.” You admit as he wastes no time and stands up to push you down on the bed. He crawls on top of you as you giggle and he is once again kissing you. His hands hold him up so he doesn’t crush you and his body flush against yours.

You can feel everything.

His lips which are soft but firm against yours, his hair which is tickling your face, his chest which presses against yours with such a delicious pressure it makes your nipples harden, and his cock, hard and straining against his pants as he pushes it into your thigh.

He grinds slowly against you as he continues to kiss your lips.

You moan and whine as he rolls to his side and drags you with him, tangling his free hand in your hair as he does so.

He continues to rut against your hip and your hands run down the front of his shirt, slipping under the expensive material to feel his bare heated skin on your palms.

“Fuck Y/N Fuck.” He moans out when your hands run over his nipples.

You grin.

You both pull away from the kiss and stare at each other breathing heavily and taking it all in.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“How do you…feel now?” He asks timidly and the blush that covers his cheeks is so cute it makes you grin.

“Like I want to kiss you again and again. And maybe do more.” You say and instantly he is on top of you again, kissing your lips and grinding his hard cock into your core.

You scratch at his back as you arch up to meet his hungry lips, your body rolling against his to relieve the ache between your legs that seems to be growing by the minute.

“You're so hot. Fuck you are so hot. Taehyung fucked up real bad ghosting you. Fuck.” Hobi whines out as he places kisses on your cheeks and moves down your neck to suck a harsh mark that has a broken moan falling from your parted lips.

His hands come down to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head and throws it somewhere in the room. His dark eyes widen when he takes in your dark bralette that is covered with delicate lace and his hands run up and down your stomach as you shamelessly grind into him.

“Please Ho-bi please.” You whine out as he rolls you both over so you are now straddling him. His hands effortlessly unclasp your bra and throw it as you can hear the bass bumping downstairs as the party continues, oblivious to what the host is doing right now.

His large fingers cup your breasts and when he flicks his thumbs over your nipples you grind down harder on his cock. He clenches his teeth as he squeezes your breasts massaging them in his large hands and making you arch your back, pushing yourself harder into his length.

“Fuck you know how long I have dreamed of this. Having you under me, or on top of me. Fuck.”

Hobi’s hands grab your thighs to part them further as you sit up a bit and he drags his knuckles between your wet folds, feeling how you have soaked through your underwear.

You let out a broken moan and he grins wickedly.

“Though you have been bad today. Acting like a fucking brat in the kitchen. I’m not going to let you get away with that so easily. Kneel on the bed ass up face down. Time for your punishment Princess.” He says forcefully pushing you off of him as you stare at him in shock.

“Come on now we don’t have all night.” He says tapping your thigh which has you scrambling to get in position for him.

“Good girl. Knew you could behave.” He growls as his hands lift your skirt and you bury your face in the pillows shivering in anticipation.

“I’m thinking Five Spanks because you have been a fucking brat for the five years I’ve known you.”

You nod as you bury your face further into the pillows and blankets and when the first spank hits you feel the zing all the way down to your curled toes.

Your ass is on fire and Hobi is chuckling darkly behind you as he massages the red flesh of your ass.

“One.”

The next three come one after the other and you are whining and crying on the bed. You try to squeeze your legs together to help with the ache.

“One more baby girl. One more.” He says as he lines up and spanks you hard. Your head falls into the mattress and his name falls like a prayer from your lips.

You can feel your arousal leaking down your pussy and without warning Hobi scoots on the bed and opens your legs harshly as he licks you up.

You cry out his name as he pulls your asscheeks apart to get better access to your dripping pussy and he licks your slit, dancing his tongue along making your stomach clench and your thighs tense up.

“Ho-Hobi fuck fuck!” You cry out as he licks and sucks at your clit. You flutter your eyes closed and let the prettiest whines and moans fall from your mouth. He is too good at that and is bringing you to the edge closer than you would like to be.

“Ho-Hobi gotta stop I’m gonna-please fuck.” You babble out as he lifts his head and softly kisses the red handprints on your ass.

“You got me too close. Fuck Hobi your mouth. Wow.” You say turning over to lay on your back as you stare at him slowly standing up and taking off his shirt.

Your eyes are met with miles of toned beautiful skin and when he undoes his pants with nimble fingers you are gasping. He pulls them down and you can see his hard cock straining against his boxers.

You scoot to the end of the bed and press soft kisses to his bare skin. Your lips start at his sternum and work down his body as his hands tangle in your hair. You take your time savoring his skin as you kiss down until your lips are right at the waistband of his boxers.

You bring your lips to his hipbone sucking the skin there as your hand moves to cup his impressive bulge.

Hobi lets out a whine as you begin to dance your fingers along his shaft and finally pull his boxers down as his length smacks your cheek.

“Fuck that’s so hot holy shit,” Hobi grits out as his fingers grab the base of his cock harshly and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Gonna cum already? Wow Hoseok.” You taunt him as his eyes grow dark and he grabs your arm harshly and forces you to kneel on the bed.

“Such a fucking brat Y/N I thought I’d be gentle with you but I think you prefer being manhandled huh? Is that why you fought me so much, you secretly got off on it?” He asks as he leaves you there to rifle through his room to find a condom.

“I think you get off on it Hoseok. Spanking me and eating my pussy nearly made you cum. I hardly touched you and you're ready to blow your load.” You shoot back as he tears open the condom packet and rolls it down his impressive length.

“You know how many times I’d be done arguing with you and having a raging hard-on after. I’d jerk myself off thinking about putting you in your place. Shutting you up with my cock in your mouth or in your pussy. I think you like the fire, like the danger. I think you like being put in your place as much as I like putting you in your place.” Hoseok says as he kisses you harshly.

This kiss was completely different than the soft slow ones earlier, this was all teeth and tongue and roughness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

His right-hand wanders down your body and he harshly rubs your clit which has you moaning into his mouth as he works you hard and fast, not giving you a second to recover as he kisses you with such force it nearly throws you back on the bed.

“What do you want Y/N… tell me.” He growls out as his hand continues to speed up on your clit causing broken moans to fall from your mouth as you bury your head into his shoulder.

You can’t think

Can’t breathe

Can’t concentrate

He plunges two fingers into your pussy and begins to scissor them harshly as you cry out against the bare skin of his shoulder.

He is saying things to you but you can hardly hear them over the music downstairs and the blood pumping in your ears.

You are close

So close to cumming all over his fingers.

Your hand reaches out to grab his bicep for support as you feel your whole body spasm, you are so close and the way his skilled fingers are moving you know you are going to cum soon.

Hoseok must feel it because right as you are on the edge he pulls back and you stare up at him in shock and anger as he takes his time licking his fingers clean.

“Hoseok what the fuck I was close you jerk!” You cry out as he smirks at you.

“I said use your words. What. Do. You. Want.” He says popping his fingers out of his mouth and staring you down with a heated gaze.

You go to reach for his cock, to give him the same treatment he gave you but he’s too quick and he swats your hand away.

“Again use your words. You never had any trouble telling me off before. Now tell me what you want.” He goads looking way too smug.

“You know what I want.” You fight back.

“Do I?” He challenges.

“Yes, you do.” You challenge back.

“God I love it when you are feisty. Makes me so fucking hard.” He says circling his hand around his cock and lazily pumping it.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him jerking his cock in front of you as you feel your arousal coat your thighs.

“Still not hearing the words I want. I could just stand here and jerk myself off and watch you suffer.” he teases as you grit your teeth.

“Wasn’t thanking you twice tonight enough.” You snap back as he throws his head back and laughs.

“Nah I want to hear it. Want to hear you beg me for my cock.” He says stepping forward to line his cockhead up with your folds.

He runs it up and down your slit letting your arousal coat him and you throw your head back and whine.

“Hoseok. Please.” You beg him grinding your hips down.

“God I love when you call me Hoseok. So fucking sexy.” He says still running his cockhead through your folds.

“Hoseok, please. Please fuck me.” You finally break as he smirks and grabs your body to push you down on the bed.

Face down ass up.

You bury your face once again in the messed up sheets as he kneels on the bed and spreads you open, taking his time teasing your pussy with his cockhead before slipping inside.

You cry out his name as he takes his time inching inside of you.

Once he bottoms out he rubs soft circles on your hips as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to take slow deep breaths to relax against his girth.

“Fuck you are so tight around me.” He says as he leans forward to press soft kisses along your spine.

You slowly roll your hips to adjust to his size and once the sting subsides you start to fuck yourself back against his cock which causes him to squeeze your hips.

“How are you holding up? Is it okay if I move?” He asks softly tracing patterns on your back.

“Hoseok fuck me. Please.” You cry out.

You can hear him snicker above you and right as his hips are about to move someone knocks on the door.

You freeze, eyes blown wide and heart hammering as Hoseok stills his movements, cock still inside of you.

“Hobi Hyung!” Comes a voice you recognize a little bit too well and you turn your head back to see Hoseok’s shocked face.

Taehyung is at the door knocking, while Hoseok is balls deep inside of you.

“Want to show him what he’s missing.” Hoseok growls and before you can answer he starts to fuck into you roughly.

You can’t help but cry out his name as you grip the sheets and feel his hard cock slide in and out of your pussy.

He delivers a light spank to your ass which has you shamelessly moaning loud enough for Taehyung to hear.

“Fuck Y/N you feel so good!” Hoseok moans out and you try to bite back your grin as you know for a fact Taehyung must have heard.

You can’t focus on Taehyung when Hoseok is ramming into you like his life depends on it so you continue to moan and cry out on the bed not caring if anyone could hear you or not.

Your stomach starts to tense and you can feel yourself getting close again.

Hoseok must realize because he angles his hips and starts to pound into your g-spot repeatedly causing your eyes to flutter closed and your hands to close around the bedsheets aggressively.

“Hoseok. Please. Don’t stop. Please.” You beg as he grabs your hips and forces you to fuck yourself back on his cock.

“Come on beautiful show that asshole what he missed out on. God this pussy is heaven I can’t wait to fuck you over and over and over. The only pussy I want to be buried in. Cum for me beautiful. Cum around my cock” Hoseok demands and you lose it.

You arch your back and cry out his name as you throw your head back. Your orgasm washes over you like waves and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock.

Hoseok hisses behind you as he continues to fuck into you but soon enough you feel him spill into the condom with a cry of your name.

You finally come down from your high as he pulls out of you and you flop down on your stomach and breathe deeply, feeling fuzzy but happy as you breathe in the scent of him all over the sheets.

You feel Hoseok move from the bed and return with a warm towel.

He takes his time spreading your cheeks to clean the mess of your pussy and you sigh happily when he throws the towel in the room and climbs into bed with you, laying on his side so he can look at your face.

“Wow, Hobi. Wow.” You whisper as you push stray hairs away from his face.

“I think this is the first time we agree on something.” He teases as you lightly smack his arm

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” You admit. “And I’m sorry for all the times I did.”

He softly smiles at you and kisses both your cheeks.

“Me too.” He agrees lacing his fingers with yours.

“Can I take you on a date sometime this week? Maybe get to know you without all the arguing?” He says softly kissing your knuckles which makes you giggle.

“Of course Hobi.”

You lay there taking each other in for a while before you both remember there is a party going on downstairs and you should probably rejoin it.

You take your time redressing, stealing glances at each other as you adjust your clothes.

A knock at the door makes you both look up.

“Hobi hyung! It’s important!” You hear Taehyung call and you smirk as Hobi laces his fingers through yours and throws the door open.

You both are clearly still disheveled and Tae’s mouth drops when he takes in the sight of you both, you purposely throw your hair back to show off the mark he sucked into your skin.

“Um.” He says eyes flicking between the both of you, jaw dropped.

“My-my date threw up and I want to know how to clean it?” He asks eyes narrowing in on the mark on your neck and shoulder.

You giggle.

“Hey Tae long time no see!” You say to him as he blushes under your gaze.

“The laundry room in the basement has everything you need. You can clean it I’m not your babysitter you know.” Hobi says as he pushes past Taehyung dragging you with him as you hide your giddy giggles behind your hands.

“Also please don’t ghost this one. It’s super embarrassing for you to keep doing that. You keep missing out on all of these amazing women because you're scared to commit.” Hobi throws over his shoulder as you bury your giggles in his arm and head back down to the party

#Jung Hoseok #Hobi #bts #hoseok smut #hobi smut #hobi/reader #hoseok/reader #hobi/ reader smut #hoseok/reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

[latenightdaydreams]

Hi hi! Hope you don't mind that I have another request eheh... 🥲 I'd like to request smut with some build up before it, if you don't mind of course ^^; I've just been recently obsessed over those tropes of s/o(s) being apart for too long. And then thought of a reader who happens to be an intelligence officer working for KorTac. She and König aren't together yet per sé, more like have fallen for each other but never got to voice it out. Now, reader is chosen to carry out espionage against their enemy. However, it lasts for a year or two. Which is risky af. Anyway, those feelings they had for each other never left and they only grew within time. Plus they really miss each other hjshjs- And then when she finally comes back, cue the reunion. Cue the confession. Andddd cue whatever happens after that. Sorry if my request is more lengthier than before 😭 feel free to decline

So uh yes. That's basically it. Stay safe and take care of yourself 🫶 just gonna drop this gigantic special delivery package to this wonderful writer over here (you ofc) of... Oo what's this— BOOM. LOVE ✨💓💞💕💖✨

OMG this is such a sweet idea🥹 Never feel bad sending in a request! I love reading them and I love the challenge of bringing your idea to life! Thank you for all of the love you send my way, it is very appreciated and it makes my day to see your messages and comments! I hope you have a fantastic day and enjoy the story!

Reunion (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

2.3k word count

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You stand in your room packing your suitcase as König sat at your desk chair. His eyes slowly going up and down your body, taking in how beautiful you look doing something so mundane. His mind flushed with thoughts of you, your mission, and his feelings. He has so much to say, but now isn’t the right time.

“Are you nervous Maus?” König bounces his foot nervously.

“I- no.” You lie. “It will be easy.”

“You’re definitely the best person for the job.”

You turn and smile at him. You want to say how much you’re going to miss him while you’re away. You’re aware that this mission will be long, maybe a year. It hurts your heart to think he might meet someone new while you’re away. What if you come back and he has a whole new life? A lot can change in that amount of time. Your heart sinks, but you continue to fake a smile for him.

You turn and face him. König looks up to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes look sad behind his mask. The mask hiding the frown on his lips. He stands and walks to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you Maus,” he whispers as he rests his head on top of yours.

“I’ll miss you too.” You wrap your arms around him and hug him back. “Don’t forget about me.” You say with a giggle in your voice to hide the pain in that statement.

Your giggle doesn’t work because König notices. His arms tightening around you, “I could never forget you, y/n.”

König has the overwhelming want to lean down and kiss your soft lips, but he can’t. You two are just friends. Military code forcing him to shove his feelings for you aside to not cause any issues. Yet, underneath his uniform, he is just a man in love; desperate for a chance to touch you in a more intimate way and express his love for you. He settles for friendly hugs and breathing in your scent instead.

He pulls away from the hug and looks down at you. Your beautiful eyes looking back at him. His heart pounds in his chest, he is already starting to miss you and it hurts.

“I’ll carry your bag to the garage for you.” He says closing your suitcase and picking it up.

“Thank you, Kö.”

The last time you two see each other you spend 20 minutes hugging, breathing each other in. Words hanging on the tips of both your tongues, yet no one brave enough to cross that line. Both of your hearts break as you know this could be your last time together. All you can do is hope that life brings you both back together.

The mission went on longer than expected. Two years and seven months, König has been counting the days; marking off the calendar waiting for the day you finally return. The only sign that you’re alive is the intel that KorTac occasionally gets from you, but it’s been three months since the last message. He is use to a life of solitude, but without you he feels a new level of loneliness.

He walks past your room every day before returning to his own. Your room remains vacant, everything left exactly how you left it. Every night he looks at a photo of you he has tucked under his pillow, gently kissing it hoping you’ll return to him soon.

It was another day of mundane tasks and paper work for König. He sat at his desk with your file pulled up on his screen, your photo attached. He marks off another day from the calendar, another day without you.  Not even intel from you.

Around 12pm, König sits with his mask off, eating his lunch he packed for himself. He wonders where you are and if you’re safe. What if you’ve been captured and murdered or worse, fallen in love and decided to run off with the enemy. Being alone with his own thoughts is torture.

Just then there is a knock at his door. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. He was in the middle of eating. Putting his sandwich down, he picks up a napkin and cleans his mouth before pulling his mask down over his face. Again, a knock.

“Alright, come in.” König says as he straightens himself out. He minimizes your file that he has still pulled up on the computer screen.

The door opens and closes, he looks up to see…you.

König’s jaw drops and he just sits there staring at you for a while, as if he can’t believe that you’re real and standing in front of him. You look just as beautiful as you did the day you left. Nothing has changed other than your hair being longer now, and it suits you.

You stand there quietly waiting for him to say something, do something. He just sits there looking at you in complete shock.

“Hey Kö,” you break the silence as you take a few steps closer.

Hearing the nickname, Kö, makes his heart flutter; only you and his mother have ever called him that. You’re really here. He isn’t hallucinating. It’s you. Quickly he stands to his feet and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He takes a deep breath, breathing you in. He’s missed your scent so much these last few years, he had forgotten what you even smelled like. Forgotten just how perfect your warmth feels against his body.

Your arms quickly wrap around him, you’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. Being away from König was harder than you thought it would be. Especially for almost three years, you weren’t sure if you’d be returning to the same man. Yet here he was. Your König. He waited for you.

König pulls away from the hug and moves his hands to grasp you face and turn your face so you can look into his eyes. His eyes glossy, tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t speak as he just looks at your face, taking in your beauty. He hasn’t seen you in the flesh for so long, it’s like he is seeing you again for the first time. His beautiful love.

Without thinking, König pulls his mask off; revealing his face to you for the first time ever. He leans down and gently presses his lips against yours; slowly out of fear of rejection, yet once your lips touch, you don’t pull back or turn away. You kiss back with even more passion, making König melt inside.  He grips your face a little tighter as he begins to kiss you harder, matching your passion.

Breaking away, he rests his head on yours, tears now falling down both of your faces.

“I was scared I would never see you again.” His voice breaks as he speaks to you.

“I know,” your breathing shutters.

He pulls away slightly as you look up at his face. You take in all of his features that have been hidden all these years of friendship. He’s…beautiful. You’ve thought of what he might be hiding all this time, it’s just scars. They only add to how attractive you see him.

“Kö, I’m in love with you.” The words flow out of your mouth as if it’s word vomit.

Your heart begins to pick up and you swallow hard, waiting for his response. Your hand reaching out to wipe tears away from his eyes as they fall.

“I’m in love with you too, y/n. I always have been.” His voice cracks.

He leans down and his lips meet yours again, his tongue licking your lips as they part to accept him. He lets out a soft moan as he tastes you for the first time. He’s wanted this for a long time, since the day you stayed behind with him after a failed mission. That was the day he fell in love with you.

His hands drop down to your waist as he begins to push up the hem of your shirt, his warm hands caressing your soft skin. You don’t stop him; your body has always craved him. You’re his now, in this moment, and forever. Slowly pulling away from your lips, his eyes drop down your body.

“Is this okay?” He seeks you consent before continuing. His hands continue to caress your waist, moving up slowly.

You nod your head, closing your eyes as his lips come back to meet yours. You continue to make out as his hands move up your body. He begins to pull you shirt up, breaking the kiss to take your shirt fully off. He looks down at your breasts cupped in your bra. He brings you closer to him as he can wrap his arms around you and unhook your bra. You let the bra drop from your body.

König quickly drops to his knees, his lips finding your breasts and kissing all over, his lips grazing over your nipples giving you chills. His hands fumble with the button of your pants as he undoes it. Pulling down your zipper, he looks up at you. His hands wrap around the top of your pants and pull them down with your underwear.

His eyes look at the soft bush between your legs before he kisses your stomach and hips. You lean back against the wall and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. Slowly he kisses down your thigh that’s resting on him. He finally begins to kiss the soft hair covering your sacred area. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent completely. He has always wanted to be graced with the privilege of giving you pleasure, and here he is finally.

He sticks his tongue out and licks from the bottom to the top, his tongue making small circles over your clit. He can’t believe just how sweet you taste. The small moans leaving your lips mixed with the smell of your arousal making his cock rock hard in his cargos. He begins to suck lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he does. Your legs begin to tremble and jerk.

You look down at him as he eats you out, your fingers gently combing through his blonde hair. You could have never imagined that he would be this good as he begins to focus in on your clit. Legs shaking you moan out, calling his name. You feel a rush, a build up of pleasure.

Knowing that you’re about to cum, König keeps his rhythm. You push his face into your cunt, forcing him to only breathe in your sweet natural musk. His face covered in your arousal; he can’t take it anymore.

He moves your leg off of him gently as he stands up. He begins to quickly undo his belt and take his pants off. He pulls his shirt off, revealing his Greek god like body to you. You just look at him, in awe. The same way he looks at you.

You both stand there looking at each other’s bare bodies. König just can’t get enough of you. He walks closer to you and scoops you up in his arms. He walks to his desk chair with you. He sits slouched in the chair as you sit on his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against his erection. You lean in and kiss his lips as he moans softly feeling a tease of what your warmth will be like.

With no regard for safe sex, you lean forward, reaching down and grabbing his cock to guide it into your pussy. Once the tip squeezes in you both let out a harmonious moan. Your eyes studying his face as he is focused on watching you stretch around his cock.

Your hands on his shoulders for balance, you continue to sit down until König bottoms out inside of you. His hands squeezing the supple flesh of your thighs as he submits to you and lets you take control of your shared pleasure. Your tight cunt squeezing around him, breasts bouncing in his face as you move over him. His muscles flex as he assists you in your movements.

“Oh Scheiße, Maus. You feel so fucking good.” He moans out as his head falls back against the back of the chair; eyes closed. He has never felt this level of pleasure before with another partner. The sound of your wet cunt filling the space between your shared moans and panting.

“Kö,” you whimper out as your hands move to his chest, fingers digging deeply into his skin.

König opens his eyes and looks down at your cunt eagerly trying to milk him. A creamy white ring circling the base of his cock, and he can smell the sex in the air. He can’t hold on anymore. He wraps his arms around your abdomen and holds you close to him while he begins to quickly thrust up into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You begin to moan out loudly, definitely loud enough to be heard from the hallway, but he couldn’t care less.

“I-I’m going to- ah,” König couldn’t even speak as he begins to sweat from his rapid movements. His hands grasping your ass as he begins to roughly push you down on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside of you as he cums. His cheeks turning slightly red from embracement of not lasting longer.

Your lips meet his with desperation as you both kiss. His hands still gripping you tightly as you rest on him, as if you might leave again if he lets go. Breaking the kiss you both look into each other’s eyes. One of his hands leaving your body and moving up to caress your face gently.

“Are you mine?” König sounding so submissive and gentle, a side no one ever sees of him.

“Of course.”

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x reader smut #könig x y/n #könig x you #smut

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

You move into a new neighborhood and have one hell of a hot neighbor. 

(I tried to find out how long Negan and Lucille were married but couldn't find it, if anyone knows please correct me.) NO BREAKOUT! WARNINGS~ P in V, fingering, licking, smut, pregnancy (just in case), hair pulling, swearing, If i missed any sorry. No beta reader, any mistakes are mine alone.

WORDS~ 2354

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It had been a year since Lucille had passed for Negan, and he never thought about moving on after losing his wife. 

That was until you moved in next door. The day you moved in, you had smiled and waved at him as he smoked his cigarette next to his bike that he had been working on when you drove up the road.

That day he watched you as you picked up heavy boxes and crates refusing the help that the men offered you. He pegged you to be a hardworking, no shit taking type of woman. He peaked over when you and a guy were raising your voices to have a disagreement about something, he liked how you stood your ground up against a man who was much larger than you. The sun started to set, and he watched as the trucks drove away and you walked inside the house, the porch light flickering on as you closed the door.

Negan could see you close your bedroom blinds but still your silhouette showed what you were doing, Negan couldn't help but watch as the dark shadow took of pieces of clothing, he should stop watching, stop being a creep, but he couldn't. He went to bed that night with his fist gripping his cock thinking of you.

The next morning you were up bright and early, ready to go for a run around the neighborhood. You got into your running shorts, sports bra and sneakers and started stretching on the porch, it was a quiet street, you took the chance to look over to your neighbor's house. He had been outside most of yesterday, two things caught your attention, the first his bike and the second how handsome his was. During moving in yesterday you found yourself glancing his way as he lay on the ground, fixing something underneath the bike, the way the shirt rode up a little showing off his happy trail. The way he would roughly wipe the grease off his hands, your mind wandering to those big hands wrapped around your body, inappropriate to think about seeing how you were just moving in. 

You started your run slow around the block, noting the streets and where they lead to, making a daily run plan in your head. Turning the corner to your street you see your neighbor outside once again working on his bike, you slowed as you approach him. "Morning" you say as you slow to a stop.  Negan stands up from his bike, wipes his hands on the rag and smiles at you. "Morning. You're certainly up early, names Negan, seems to me that we are neighbors" he says gruffly. "Yeah, we are, names Y/N. I saw you yesterday out here, she yours?" I nod to the bike. "Oh yeah I took her off my mate a while ago, needs a little TLC but she'll be up and running soon." "That good to hear." I smile at you. "So far you're the only neighbor I've seen out so early." Negan laughs, "The neighborhood is sort of filled with older folk, you and I are the oddballs here. Most of them come out in the afternoon when it starts cooling down." "Oh true, it's a nice area, was lucky to get this place, seemed like it was a popular house." Negan couldn't help but stare at you, looking you up and down as you chatted away. "You wanna come inside for a coffee or tea?" Negan offers throwing the rag over the bikes seat. "Yeah, I could go for a coffee, as long as I'm not interrupting your day?"

"Nah you're all good love." Negan chuckles and leads you inside. His house is nice and neat, you look around as he leads you to the kitchen. "Take a seat, I'll put the kettle on." You sit down at the counter and smile and watch him as he grabs the coffee cups. "Should have asked this earlier, but you got a girlfriend or wife that might get upset about another woman in her house with her man?" You speak softly. Negan places the cups down, along with the spoons, coffee and sugar. He looks at you and smiles weakly.

"I am a widower. Lost my wife just over a year ago to cancer." "I am so sorry; I didn't mean to make you up...." Negan interrupts you. "It's fine you didn't know; I get it you don't wanna be making enemies the first day you move in." He continues "Lucille well she would have loved you I think, she barely spoke to any of the people here, a young girl like you would have been perfect to talk to take on shopping trips, you know all that." Negan chuckles. "She sounds amazing. How long were you married for?" You ask as he grabs a photo of her off the fridge, you study it. They looked so happy. "Oh man would have been about 10 years." "Well, you look happy in this photo" You hand it back to him and smile. "I was, been down in the dumps since losing her. What about you? You got a man I should be worried about?" "Hell no, single as shit." You say as you watch him mix the coffee, milk and sugar with the spoon, "It's the reason I wanted to start new, new place, new men to check out, you know" You take the coffee cup from his hand and thank him.

"Bad break up?" He asks taking a sip. "Abusive ex, so yeah and no, the breakup was well and truly needed." "Fucking pathetic male hitting women, would never lay a hand on a woman in that kinda way." Negan says getting angry. "Well, he didn't like it when I finally snapped and knocked him the fuck out, he went to his side chicks house, and I hightailed it out of there."  "Abusive and a cheater, how the fuck did a nice girl like you get with that kinda guy?" "He was my brother's mate, we met at teens, hooked up and only when we lived together, he got abusive and controlling." 

Negan just nods and continues to drink his coffee, staring at you. "What?" You ask smiling. "Nothing, just can't believe some fucker would raise his hands to the likes of you." He rounds the counter getting closer to you. "He taught me one thing, how to stand up for myself." You say, almost in a whisper. Negan's hand comes out and gently touches your face, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek. You breathe hitches as you lock eyes with him. You take in the salt and pepper hair, his facial hair, the way he smells like gasoline and cologne.  "Y/N I know it's wrong, I just met you, but I can't explain why I felt drawn to you." You blush at his words; you felt the same. Since you laid eyes on him yesterday it was hard to not think about him.  "Please tell me you feel the same" He moves his face closer to yours. "I do" you respond, moving your face closer, your lips almost touching. He sighs and, in a blink, his lips are on yours, kissing you deeply. Your hands grip his chin, nails digging into his skin. His hands one travels to your neck, the other travels to your hair, gripping it tightly. Making you gasp as he pulls it. Negan slid you off the stool into his arms, never breaking the kiss as he made his way carefully to his bedroom. He kicked the door close behind him and walked over to the bed, placing you down gently, crawling on top of you, his hands making quick work of his shirt, tossing it to the side of the bedroom. You look down at his bare chest. He sat up and you followed him, your hands reaching out to touch the small amount of chest hair he had in the middle of his chest. You smiled up at him as you kissed his chest, working your way over to his nipple, you take it between your teeth biting it, getting a groan out of him.

Negan couldn't help the noises he was making, your teeth gently grazing over his chest, nipples and neck were so good. His arms wrapped around you as you moved close, nibbling your way up.

"Shit" he moans. You smile at him and start to undo your sports bra "I seem to be a little overdressed" you whisper, his hands stills yours.  "Allow me to fix that" He says pushing you back down to the bed, ripping the zipper of your bra down harshly, you move your arms out of the holes and it disappears into the room, at this point you don't care.

Next to go were your pants, Negan isn't gentle with them either, he grips both pants and underwear and pulls them down, tossing them, leaving you naked under him, you can see his pants are struggling to hide the erection he has going for you. "Fuck your beautiful" He says kissing your inner thighs, making you giggle a little.  "Sorry, it's the facial hair" you explain when he looks up at you and raises an eyebrow. Negan smiles and keeps kissing you, moving up closer to your wet core. The giggles turn into gasps as his tongue licks your slit. Not going inside, just teasing you. Your hand reaches out to his hair, gripping it, you try and push his face down, but he stops you. "Needy little bitch, aren't you?" He growls, his words turning you on more. You were never one for dirty talk, usually it would turn you off but when he says it, it's doing the exact opposite, feeling yourself get wetter from not only his tongue but your own want. You moan as he uses two thick fingers to spread your lips and his tongues circles your clit, you arch your back at the pleasure. Negan keeps licking adding the twonfibgers thay held your pussy opened to him, you feel filled with those two digits pumping inside you. He keeps licking your clit when fucking yoi with his fingers, first gently, then getting rougher and rougher, until you tell the orgasm you been building releases and he laps it up like his life depends on it.  When he moves over you, his face is wet with your juices. You smile at him and he brings his face closer "Go on baby, taste yourself" Negan waits for you to move closer to him, to kiss him, your tongue licking at your cum. "Fucking sweetest pussy I have ever tasted" He growls, he sits back as he undoes his pants, just enough to release his cock and line it up to your enterance. He kisses you deeply as he slides into your pussy, you gasp having to adjust to his size.  But once he is fully seated inside you he doesn't move. You both lay there, panting. "Such a nice warm little pussy, I think Ill just let you warm it a bit before I fuck you senseless." He smiles as you try to move your hips, desperate to fuck him but he stops your tries. Smacking you on the side of your ass "Naughty girl. Can't you wait a little bit?" "No" you whisper. Negan laughs as he pulls out, almost all the way only to push himself back into you fast, getting you to gasp and moan. He continues this torture. Out.......slowly. In....hard......out.....almost all the way, just the tip toying with your pussy. In hard, his balls slapping your skin. Your moans mix with his, the pleasure building up again. It wouldn't take to long for you to come again. Negan's thrusts were getting erratic, he couldn't hold off the oncoming orgasm much longer.  "Negan please....." "You close baby girl? You close?" Negan grunts thrusting again hard. "Mmmmmm yeah...." You moan, you feel yourself start to tighten.

"Oh my god, your gonna fucking milk me baby?" Negan says, going faster.  It takes 3 more thrusts and your cumming around his cock, arching your back as your pussy grips on to his cock as he continues pounding into you. Negan grunts loudly and moans as his movement stop and you feel his cock pumping inside you, releasing his seed into you.

He rolls off you, but bringing your body closer to his as he lays there, coming down from the high. Negan laid there, his heart racing, he could feel yours beating underneath his arm, causing him to smile. "Just know I don't usually jump into bed with neighbors" You say after a few minutes of silence. "Neither do I, but I just couldn't help myself." Negan kisses your neck.

"What happens now?" You ask.

2 YEARS LATER. You sit on Negan's lap as you watch another set of neighbors move into the street, the street was starting to get a lot of young folk. You lean back and smile as Negan nibbles your skin.  "That was you two years ago baby girl" Negan says as his hand toys with the helm of your shirt, gently rubbing over your swollen belly.  "Sure was." Your hand entwined with his. To some you and Negan moved fast into this relationship, within 6 months you were moving in with him, at 8 months he purposed marriage to you, 12 months you had a small wedding with your family attending. Now you sit on his front porch, 6 months pregnant expecting twins, a baby boy and a baby girl.  "I'm glad I moved into this street, I'm glad we met that day on my run."  You tell him.  "Oh trust me darling the feeling is very mutual." Negan says pulling your hair, making you arch back to give you a deep kiss. "Fuck" you whisper knowing that that alone was turning you on.  "Let's go inside baby" Negan says standing up with you in his arms, not allowing you to walk. You start kissing his neck as your wrap your arms around his neck. 

#daddy negan #jdm #jeffery dean morgan #negan smut #negan smith #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan smith x you #the walking dead negan #negan x y/n

[muiitoloko]

Sorryy I completely forgot to specify 😭 Harry from Love Actually 🫶🏻 thank you btw 🫶🏻

Title: Inappropriate

Summary: You were his secretary, he was your boss, and yet, in that moment, none of it mattered

Pairing: Harry (love actually) × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Boss-secretary relationship, masturbation, pervert and smut.

Author's Notes: Well, here we go again! Thanks for throwing this request my way. Gotta admit, I had a similar draft collecting dust in the corners of my brain, but with a totally different character. So, I had to do some serious rewriting. Hopefully, what I've cooked up here hits the spot for you, but fair warning: I might've made Harry a tad bit pervy in this one! 😅 As always, feedback is welcome and highly encouraged!

Anon's request here

As you stepped into the elevator with Harry, your stomach churned with guilt, the memory of your mistake weighing heavily on your mind. You apologized profusely once again, but Harry ignored it, sighing irritably as he waved off your concerns.

"It's fine, really," he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation, "just forget about it."

But you couldn't forget about it, not when the consequences of your error were staring you in the face. Deep down, you knew it wasn't entirely your fault. You were sure you had booked two hotel rooms for the conference in New York, but somehow, there had been a mix-up, leaving you and Harry stuck with only one room.

As the elevator doors closed behind you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settling over you. It was like something out of a cheesy romantic movie or one of those fanfics you read late at night in bed. Except, instead of swooning over your attractive boss, you were stuck in an awkward situation with a man who seemed to see you as nothing more than his secretary.

Harry stood beside you, his tall frame towering over yours, his hooked nose and glasses giving him an air of sophistication that only added to his allure. Despite your best efforts to focus on the task at hand, you couldn't help but steal glances at him when he wasn't looking, marveling at the way his tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders and chiseled jawline.

But as attractive as Harry was, there was a tension between you that made it difficult to enjoy his company. Sometimes, you got the impression that he despised you with how much he avoided talking to you since he hired you. It was like he couldn't stand being in the same room as you, let alone having to share a hotel room for the duration of the conference.

As the elevator ascended to the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the pit of your stomach. You had hoped that the conference in New York would be an opportunity to prove yourself to Harry, to show him that you were capable of more than just fetching his coffee and filing his paperwork.

But now, all you could think about was how to navigate the awkwardness of sharing a hotel room with your boss, a man who seemed to barely tolerate your presence. You dreaded the thought of spending the next few days in such close quarters with him, the tension between you only adding to the discomfort of the situation.

And as the elevator ascended to the designated floor, Harry kept his gaze fixed on the blinking numbers, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. He felt a mixture of frustration, attraction, and guilt, all bubbling beneath the surface as he tried to maintain his composure in front of you.

The memory of your mistake and the awkwardness of the situation weighed heavily on Harry's mind, but beneath it all, there was a deeper undercurrent of attraction that he couldn't deny. Despite his best efforts to push it aside, he couldn't shake the magnetic pull he felt towards you, his secretary.

As the elevator doors opened and Harry stepped out into the hallway, pulling his suitcase behind him, he couldn't help but steal a glance at you standing beside him. You looked nervous and guilty, your eyes darting around anxiously as you followed him closely.

Opening the door to the hotel room, Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw the sofa positioned beside the bed. It looked comfortable enough to sleep on, but before he could offer to take the sofa, you spoke up, volunteering to sleep on the couch without hesitation.

Harry hesitated for a moment, torn between his desire to be a gentleman and his own selfish desires. But ultimately, he saw no reason to oppose you if that was what you wanted. With a nod of acquiescence, he stepped aside, allowing you to make yourself comfortable on the couch.

As you sat down, working to take off your heels, Harry found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. He watched as you exposed your legs in that pencil skirt, the fabric clinging perfectly to your shape, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him.

Damn, why did you have to be so beautiful? Harry shook his head, forcing himself to look away before he did something he regretted. "Well, um, I guess we should both try to get some rest from the Jet Lag," he said awkwardly, attempting to break the tension that hung between them.

You nodded in agreement, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "I'll, uh, take a shower before bed," he stated, his tone a little more confident now, "and then you can have your turn after me."

You nodded again, offering him a small smile. "Sounds like a plan," you said, your voice tinged with relief.

With that, Harry retreated into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief. Alone at last, he leaned against the cool tile, his mind swimming with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

As the hot water cascaded over him, Harry couldn't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way about you, his secretary, but try as he might, he couldn't deny the attraction that burned within him.

With a frustrated growl, Harry shook his head, determined to push aside his desires and focus on the task at hand. But deep down, he knew that the night ahead would be anything but restful, as he struggled to resist the pull of temptation that threatened to consume him.

As Harry emerged from the bathroom, clad in comfortable pajamas, he found you waiting patiently outside, ready to take your turn. You exchanged a brief nod before you disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Harry alone in the dimly lit hotel room.

With a tired sigh, Harry made his way to the bed, feeling the weight of jet lag settling heavily on his shoulders. He crawled beneath the covers, sinking into the plush mattress with a grateful sigh. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, the bed felt like a sanctuary after a long day of travel.

As Harry drifted off to sleep, his mind still swirling with thoughts of you, he found himself succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber. It didn't take long for exhaustion to claim him, pulling him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Hours passed in blissful silence, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the air conditioning. And then, slowly, you emerged from the bathroom, your eyes heavy with sleep as you made your way to the sofa.

But as you settled down on the beautiful but uncomfortable sofa, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of regret that gnawed at the back of your mind. You cursed yourself for offering to sleep on the couch, knowing now how much you would come to regret it.

As you tossed and turned, trying in vain to find a comfortable position, you couldn't help but envy Harry, sleeping soundly in the bed just a few feet away. It wasn't fair that he got to enjoy the comfort of the mattress while you were stuck on the sofa, feeling every lump and bump beneath you.

You sighed heavily, resigning yourself to the uncomfortable reality of the situation. Life wasn't like the movies, you realized, and sometimes you just had to make the best of a bad situation.

With a weary sigh, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, the gentle rhythm of your breathing gradually slowing as exhaustion claimed you. Hours passed in blissful silence, the darkness of night enveloping the room in a peaceful embrace.

But then, slowly, you began to stir, your dreams giving way to the hazy fog of consciousness. As you blinked sleepily, trying to make sense of your surroundings, you were surprised to find yourself lying in bed, the soft warmth of the covers cocooning you in comfort.

Confusion clouded your mind as you glanced around the room, trying to piece together how you had ended up in the bed. Your gaze landed on Harry's sleeping form beside you, his features softened by slumber, and you hesitated, unsure of what to do next.

With a hesitant hand, you reached out and lightly poked his shoulder, calling his name in a soft whisper. Harry grumbled sleepily, his baritone voice thick with drowsiness as he questioned what was wrong.

You furrowed your brow, your confusion deepening as you struggled to comprehend the situation. "Harry, how did I end up in the bed?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Harry sighed tiredly, turning to face you with a sleepy gaze. "You were tossing and turning on the sofa," he explained, his voice a low murmur, "and I thought you'd be more comfortable here. It's a king-size bed, plenty of room for both of us."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, the intimacy of the situation not lost on you. This was highly inappropriate, you realized, and yet, there was a strange comfort in being nestled beside him, sharing the warmth of the bed.

With a grateful nod, you settled back against the pillows, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you closed your eyes and let sleep claim you once more.

The next morning, you awoke to the soft chime of the alarm, the sound jolting you from your slumber. Blinking sleepily, you sat up in bed, stretching your limbs as you tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.

Harry stirred beside you, his gaze bleary as he reached out to silence the alarm. "Good morning," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," you replied, offering him a small smile. "Thanks for letting me sleep in the bed last night. That was really kind of you."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze flickering away. "It was no trouble," he muttered, avoiding your eyes. "Besides, it's not like either of us got much sleep anyway."

You nodded in understanding, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "So, what's the plan for today?" you asked, trying to change the subject.

Harry glanced at his watch, his expression thoughtful. "Well, we have breakfast downstairs at 7:30, followed by the first session of the conference at 9:00," he explained, his tone businesslike.

You nodded in agreement, mentally noting the schedule. "Sounds good," you replied, swinging your legs out of bed and reaching for your suitcase.

As you both got ready for the day ahead, the awkwardness of the previous night lingering in the air between you, you couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the conference had in store. But for now, you pushed aside your doubts and uncertainties, focusing instead on the task at hand.

The rest of the day went smoothly, with you buried in work tasks until lunchtime. However, once you and Harry sat down for lunch, he surprised you by giving you the rest of the day off to explore the city on your own.

Thrilled by the opportunity to discover New York, you eagerly accepted Harry's offer, thanking him profusely before setting off to immerse yourself in the vibrant energy of the city. Harry, on the other hand, opted to stay behind, citing a need for some extra rest after the long flight.

As you navigated the bustling streets of New York, your senses were overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. From the towering skyscrapers to the eclectic street vendors, every corner seemed to offer a new adventure waiting to be discovered.

With Harry's encouragement ringing in your ears, you set off to explore the iconic landmarks and hidden gems of New York. From Central Park to Times Square, you marveled at the city's rich history and vibrant culture, snapping photos and collecting souvenirs along the way.

Meanwhile, Harry returned to the hotel room, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he collapsed onto the plush bed. With a tired sigh, he kicked off his glasses, placing them on the bedside table before burying his face in the soft pillows.

But as he inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of you lingered in the air, filling his senses with an intoxicating mix of desire and frustration. He cursed himself for allowing his thoughts to stray to you, his secretary, when he should be focusing on more important matters.

With a frustrated growl, Harry pushed aside the tempting thoughts that threatened to consume him, reminding himself of the boundaries that he had sworn to uphold. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the memory of your presence beside him, your warmth seeping into the very fabric of the pillows.

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to clear his mind of you, but your smell on the pillows tormented him, that sweet scent that drove him crazy because he couldn't identify it. Was it jasmine? He didn't know, he would only know if he felt it up close, maybe burying his nose in the crook of your neck. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Harry groaned in frustration, feeling the desire stir inside him.

Turning away from the bed, Harry sat down heavily on the edge, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, cursing himself for allowing his thoughts to wander into dangerous territory. It was just a perfume, he reminded himself, nothing more. He shouldn't get excited; it was inappropriate. You were his secretary, damn it!

As he abandoned the buttons on his shirt and kicked off his shoes, Harry's frustration grew, manifesting in careless actions. Without meaning to, he flung one of his shoes aside, narrowly missing your travel laundry bag on the sofa. With a curse, he watched as the bag fell to the floor, spilling its contents in a messy heap.

"Shit," Harry muttered, scrambling to gather up your belongings and shove them back into the bag. But as he reached for a lacy black bra and matching panties, his hands hesitated mid-air. Was that what you wore last night? The thought sent a jolt of electricity through him, his heart pounding in his chest as he held the delicate lingerie in his hands.

With a shaky breath, Harry swallowed hard, his resolve wavering as temptation beckoned. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this, but the allure of your scent was too powerful to resist. Convincing himself that you wouldn't be back anytime soon, he succumbed to his desires, letting curiosity and excitement guide his actions.

Carefully unclasping your bra, Harry's pulse quickened as he held it up, admiring the delicate lace and imagining the softness of your skin against his fingertips. And when he reached for your panties, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through him.

It was inappropriate, he knew, but in that moment, all Harry could think about was the intoxicating thrill of indulging in forbidden desires. With trembling hands, he pressed your panties against his nose, inhaling deeply as he surrendered himself to the heady rush of arousal.

He felt like a fucking pervert, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not when the excitement was taking over his mind, blinding him to everything else. With each breath, he drank in your scent, his imagination running wild with fantasies of what could be.

And as Harry held your panties against his nose, inhaling deeply, he felt a surge of desire coursing through him, his cock straining in his pants, begging for release. It had been a long time since he had indulged in such forbidden pleasures, and now, with the opportunity tantalizingly within reach, he found it impossible to resist.

With a shaky breath, Harry rose from the floor, still clutching your underwear in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved with purpose, undoing his belt and pants with trembling fingers. As he stroked himself through his underwear, he couldn't help but imagine you here with him, begging for him, your small hand replacing his big one, your touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

Harry crawled onto the bed, still clutching your panties in his hand. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. What was he doing? This was wrong on so many levels, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to stop.

With a shaky breath, Harry took off his shirt and underwear, throwing them aside in a careless heap. He lay back on the bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping him in comfort as he held your panties against his nose once more.

Closing his eyes, Harry inhaled deeply, letting your scent wash over him like a tidal wave of desire. He caressed his chest with his free hand, tracing lazy circles over his skin as he slowly went down, creating the mood while indulging in the intoxicating aroma of your underwear.

With each breath, Harry's imagination ran wild, conjuring up vivid fantasies of you here with him, your touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole. He imagined you straddling him, your soft curves pressed against his chest as you rode him with fervor, your moans of pleasure echoing in his ears like a sweet symphony.

"Oh, fuck," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he imagined your pussy wrapped around him, hot and tight, squeezing him with every thrust. He could almost feel the heat of you, the slickness of your arousal coating his cock as you rode him hard and fast, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

With a shaky breath, Harry pressed the panties against his nose once more, his fingers trembling as he imagined your moans of pleasure, your breathless gasps mingling with his own. "God, I want you," he whispered, his voice a low, guttural rasp of desire. "I want to feel you, taste you, fuck you until you're screaming my name."

As Harry continued to indulge in his forbidden fantasies, his arousal grew with each passing moment, his cock throbbing with need as he surrendered himself to the intoxicating allure of you. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this, but in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to have you, to possess you, to make you his in every possible way.

And as he lay there, lost in the haze of desire, Harry couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out about his secret fantasies. Would you be disgusted? Shocked? Or would you embrace them, surrendering yourself to the same forbidden desires that consumed him?

With a shaky breath, Harry pushed aside his doubts and uncertainties, focusing instead on the overwhelming need that burned within him. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the sweet release that awaited him, just a few strokes away.

With each stroke of his hand, he imagined you here with him, your body pressed against his as he fucked you senseless, your moans of pleasure driving him to the brink of ecstasy.

"Oh, fuck," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he imagined the taste of you on his lips, the feel of your soft skin beneath his touch. He could almost feel the heat of you, the slickness of your arousal coating his cock as he pounded into you with reckless abandon.

With each thrust of his hips, Harry's arousal grew, his need for release reaching a fever pitch as he surrendered himself to the intoxicating allure of you. He wanted you, needed you, craved you with every fiber of his being, and nothing else mattered but the sweet release that awaited him.

But then, as Harry's fantasies reached their peak, he heard the sound of the door opening and closing, his heart freezing in his chest as he realized that he wasn't alone. With wide eyes, he turned to see you standing there, your shopping bag dropped to the floor with a thud as you took in the sight before you.

For a moment, you both froze, your eyes locked in a silent exchange of shock and disbelief. But then, as reality sank in, you began to apologize profusely, scrambling to find the door handle behind you as you tried to escape the awkwardness of the situation.

But Harry's hand stopped you, his touch firm and commanding as he reached out and closed the door, trapping you between his body and the door. His chest heaved with exertion as he stood before you, his gaze burning with intensity as he held your gaze captive.

"Shh," Harry whispered, his voice low and husky as he silenced your apologies with a single command. "Be quiet."

You obeyed without hesitation, feeling a familiar tightness in your pussy as his dominant tone washed over you, sending a shiver down your spine. But then, as you glanced down, you noticed something in Harry's other hand, something that made your breath catch in your throat. Your panties, the delicate lace fabric clutched tightly in his grasp, evidence of his forbidden desires..

God, he was masturbating with your panties, using them to fuel his fantasies of you, and the realization sent a surge of arousal coursing through you. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the sight before you, mesmerized by the raw desire that burned within him.

With a shaky breath, Harry stepped closer, his body mere inches from yours as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. "You shouldn't have come in without knocking," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural rasp of desire, "but now that you're here, there's no turning back."

You swallowed hard, feeling a flush of heat spreading across your skin as Harry's words washed over you. Despite the guilt and shame that gnawed at the pit of your stomach, you couldn't deny the overwhelming arousal that pulsed through your veins, urging you to surrender to the forbidden temptation that beckoned.

And as Harry pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, his hand tightening around your panties, you knew that there was no going back. You were his now, completely and utterly, bound by the intoxicating allure of your shared desires.

But as Harry broke away from the kiss, his breath ragged and his chest heaving, he kept his eyes closed, almost as if he was ashamed of his own inappropriate behavior. He knew he had crossed a line, indulging in forbidden desires that should have remained buried deep within him. And yet, as he stood there before you, his arousal still burning hot and fierce, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

With a shaky breath, Harry opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and desire. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion, "I shouldn't have done that. It was completely inappropriate, and I understand if you want to leave. We can pretend it never happened, and I'll keep my distance from now on."

But as you looked up into his face, studying his handsome features and the vulnerability in his eyes, you knew that this was your chance. Your chance to walk away and pretend that none of this had ever happened, or your chance to seize the opportunity that lay before you and indulge in the forbidden temptation that beckoned.

And the choice was obvious.

With a hesitant breath, you reached out, your hand trembling as you tentatively wrapped your fingers around Harry's erect member, feeling its firmness and heat pulsating beneath your touch. Harry groaned at the sensation, his head lowering to watch the movement of your hand as you explored him with newfound curiosity.

As you touched him, slowly discovering what he liked and how he responded to your ministrations, Harry's desire surged to new heights. But it wasn't enough. No, he wanted more. He wanted to feel you, to taste you, to fuck you senseless against that very door.

"God, yes," Harry groaned, his voice a low, guttural rasp of desire as he reached for you, his hands roaming over your body with a primal urgency. "I want you, need you... Fuck, I need to feel you wrapped around me, begging for more."

With a hungry growl, Harry seized you by the hips, pulling you closer to him as he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue delved deep into your mouth, exploring every inch of you as he devoured you with reckless abandon.

You moaned into the kiss, your own desire burning brightly as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating allure of Harry's touch. With each passing moment, the tension between you grew, the air thick with anticipation as you danced on the edge of ecstasy.

But Harry wasn't content to simply kiss you. No, he wanted more. With a primal growl of need, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you against the door as he devoured you with feverish abandon. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and contour as he worshiped you with single-minded determination.

As you wrapped your legs around him, holding onto his shoulders for support, you melted into the kiss, your lips moving in sync with his as the heat between you intensified. Harry's hand roamed over your body, exploring every curve with eager anticipation. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

But as much as you enjoyed the foreplay, you couldn't wait any longer. Breaking away from the kiss, you looked into Harry's eyes with a hunger that matched his own. "Forget the foreplay," you whispered, your voice thick with desire, "I want you inside me now."

Harry's breath caught in his throat at your words, his desire mirroring your own as he nodded eagerly. "God, yes," he breathed, his voice low and husky with arousal, "I've imagined this moment for so long, dreamed of having you like this."

With a primal growl of need, Harry reached down and pulled aside your panties, his fingers grazing your wetness as he positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped at the sensation, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you braced yourself for what was to come.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Harry pushed inside you, his cock stretching you in the most deliciously sinful way. You threw your head back, a guttural moan escaping your lips as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of being filled by him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he buried himself deep inside you. "I've wanted this for so long, imagined it in my darkest fantasies."

You moaned in response, the sensation of him moving inside you sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge of ecstasy, his girth stretching you in all the right ways as you clung to him, lost in a haze of pleasure and desire.

"Harder," you begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you urged him on. "I want to feel all of you, every inch of your cock inside me."

Harry growled in response, his movements becoming more urgent as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. You clung to him, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you chased the blissful release that awaited you both.

As Harry continued to thrust into you with abandon, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment, you found yourself lost in a haze of pleasure and desire. With each stroke, he filled you completely, his cock stretching you in all the right ways as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you braced yourself against the door.

"Oh, God, Harry," you moaned, your voice thick with desire as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. "Yes, just like that. Harder."

Harry growled in response, his hands roaming over your body with a primal urgency as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension reaching a fever pitch as you chased the blissful release that awaited you both.

And then, as you opened your eyes and looked over Harry's shoulder, you saw the reflection of the two of you in the mirror on the other side of the hotel room. The image seemed almost mocking, you fully clothed while Harry was naked, pressing you against the door as he fucked you with abandon.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your blouse partially unbuttoned as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberries that clung to your skin, you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you.

Strawberries. That was the scent that had driven Harry wild with desire, the sweet aroma that had ignited his passion and fueled his forbidden fantasies. And now, as he breathed it in with eager anticipation, he felt a sense of satisfaction wash over he, knowing that he had finally discovered the source of his obsession.

With each thrust of his hips, Harry's arousal grew, his need for release reaching a fever pitch as he surrendered himself to the intoxicating allure of you. He wanted you, needed you, craved you with every fiber of his being, and nothing else mattered but the sweet release that awaited him.

It was so inappropriate, so taboo, and yet, you loved every second of it.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he continued to thrust into you with abandon. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?"

You smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the effect you were having on him. "Oh, I know," you teased, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I like driving you crazy."

With a hungry growl, Harry pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he devoured you with feverish abandon. You melted into the kiss, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating pleasure that consumed you.

And as Harry continued to fuck you senseless against the door, you knew that this was only the beginning of your forbidden affair. The thrill of the taboo, the excitement of being caught, it all added to the intensity of the moment, fueling your desire with every passing second.

You were his secretary, he was your boss, and yet, in that moment, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the overwhelming need that burned between you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy as you surrendered yourself to the forbidden temptation that beckoned.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #harry x reader #love actually

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 21.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

Warnings For This Chapter: Pregnant Sex, Dom!Jeongguk, Begging, Praise, Daddy Kink, Creampie

With your head pressed against your fiance's shoulder, he drifts his thumb over the recently acquired sonogram picture.

"He's gonna be a force to be reckoned with," Jeongguk muses, beginning to smile at the small black and white photo.

There's been something lingering in the air today. Guk can only recognize it as pure joy.

It's pure absolute joy and serenity as it bleeds through the thick flower bushes of your spacious garden.

"Do you think that… that I'm gonna be a good dad?" the father of your child inquires.

You simply lift your head, drifting your hand over his handsome face. "You're perfect. So yes, I think you'll be a good dad. You're scary perfect."

Guk can only smirk at your words. "Scary perfect?"

You lean back on the comfortable lounge chair, allowing the sun to dance over your skin. The rays warm you completely, soaking your bones in the wonderous heat.

"I've never met a man that made me completely change within days of meeting him," you sigh, closing your eyes to bask in the sun's glow.

"You never met the right man, " he counters, laying back beside you.

Guk turns his head to you, watching how serene you look. He's known so many women in his life and none of them can measure up to you -- ever.

God, you're a vision to him.

Even these days when he talks to Jimin and Tae, the father of your child can see how much he himself has changed. He was a hollow shell for quite a long time, made up of handsome looks and dastardly charm. He himself was someone he wouldn't want to meet and now he's changed too. He's become so much more than what he expected to be.

"I love you," he breathes, turning onto his side and staring at you.

"I love you too," you reply earnestly, peeking one eye open and surveying him.

He smiles wider, reaching over and caging you against him with his tattooed arm. His muscles bulge and ripple, veins protruding with little to no effort and you simply sigh at how completely lucky you are.

"I don't wanna go to work tomorrow," he breathes, burying his face in your neck.

He kisses down your skin softly, nipping at all of the right places that get you to squirm for him.

"Should have thought about that before accepting the job," you tease, letting him mold your body closer to his.

His fingers tug at the hem of your tank top and before you know it he's sweetly cupping your breast.

"I just don't want to stay home and do nothing," he scoffs, angling himself to be situated behind you.

The tips of his fingers pluck and tease at your hardening bud and your mind instantly becomes fogged with lust.

"Mhm," you whimper, pushing your backside to meet his groin.

"You're not even listening to me," he muses, kissing over your shoulder.

"Yes I am," you reply mindlessly, gripping his shorts and tugging them down.

Guk simply raises an eyebrow, watching how your hand roams for his hardening cock. A playfully smirk creeps onto his features and he moves his hips closer for you to grasp him.

He hisses softly through his teeth when you finally touch him, eyes fluttering closed at your eagerness.

"Then what did I say?" he mumbles into your ear, parting his lips just enough to catch the lobe between his teeth.

You can hear your heart racing in your ears and nothing that has been said can be recollected in your memory.

He nips at your earlobe harsher, adoring the stunted whine you give. "What did I say, baby girl?"

"Something about work or… whatever," you gasp, pushing your underwear to the side.

Jeongguk grips your breast harder, watching with avid eyes as you skillfully back up to his cock.

"Your breasts are so heavy, goddamn," he groans, letting his head rest against the comfy cushion of the chaise lounge.

Your thumb spreads the slick precum he beads around the head of his cock and he simply shudders at the feeling.

You continue to back up until he begins to stretch you, defiling your pregnant cunt with his thick cock.

"Fuuuuck," your fiance groans, opening his lust-lidded eyes to look down at where you two are joined.

You stop when he's fully inside of you, the head nestling softly against your cervix.

"Take this shit off," Guk begs, tugging at your top.

While you get to work to free yourself of the fabric confines, his strong hand grips at your underwear and he tears them off in a quick show of strength.

You whimper softly, adoring how his lips continue to dance over your skin.

"C'mere," he hisses, cupping your stomach lovingly.

He pulls out slowly, groaning at how tight and warm you are around him before thrusting back in roughly.

A choked groan leaves your lips, hands gripping for anything to situate yourself but he doesn't give you time.

"Fuck, this pussy feels so goddamn good!" Guk whimpers, starting a smooth, relentless pace.

You grab at his arm that coddles your belly, head tilting back to press against his chest.

"I got you, baby. I'm right here," he coos, lifting your leg to have better access.

His fingers dig into your flesh, practically massaging the skin with clenching motions.

"Who do you belong to?" he inquires, letting his free hand beneath you tease your nipple.

"You, daddy. You own me," you sob, pushing your hips back to meet every thrust.

"That's fuckin' right I do, baby," Guk whispers in your ear.

The chaise lounge quivers beneath you both as the father of your child picks up speed. The pleasure is so profound and so amazing that it punches the air from your lungs. You gasp and whine in stunted sobs as he continues to wreck you, making you a dumb mess on his hard cock.

"Daddy, please! More!" you whine.

He can hear the neediness in your voice, he can hear how sweetly and earnestly you need this.

Pulling out of you, he lays you on your back. As he sits up, he strips himself of his shirt, letting all of the ink he's acquired over the years be on show. Planting one foot on the ground and one knee beside your thigh, he enters you once more.

Your chest heaves, back arching needily.

With each thrust, Guk is seemingly hypnotized by how your breasts jiggle. They're so swollen and ready to produce milk for his son that his mind is going into overdrive.

"Shit," he hisses, cupping your tits with gentle hands.

Bending down, his lips suckle softly at the sensitized skin.

Your hips lift up for more and your fiance simply moans at how tight you are around him.

When he switches to your other nipple, he can feel the slow build up of your cunt muscles begging for release and he fucks you harder in turn.

"Oh my god! Daddy, yes! Right there!" you cry out, throwing your head back.

"Yeah?" Jeongguk goads breathlessly, moving one of his hands down to the apex of your thighs, "Right here, baby? You like daddy's cock fucking you like this?"

The gentle breeze that enraptures you, the way your voice echoes throughout the mansion's garden seems to shroud you in this fantasy that you're more than happy to stay in.

"Right there! Yes!" you sob, grabbing onto his arms tightly.

The bubble within you is raring to burst and you cry out his name as well as a multitude of expletives.

"Give it to me, sweetheart. You know I love to watch you cum," he coos, sitting back up.

Guk's hand grips the top of the lounge chair, letting the stability give him more confident power to fuck you seven ways to hell.

And without so much as another plea, you fall undone before him. He hisses at how tight you get, relishing in how you cry out his name.

"God!" he gasps, bending down to kiss you.

His lips are passionate and sweet against yours, opening slightly to let out a groan as his cum fills you with warmth.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips.

Your fingers drift through his dark hair, a satiated smile curling onto your lips. "I love you too."

He sighs softly, pulling out of you just to lay back down at your side and enter you again with his semi-hard cock.

"I don't wanna go to work tomorrow," he grumbles childishly.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. Only if you want to. Besides, it's just a little something to do until you get back to Stanford."

Guk picks up his shirt, draping it over your chest as the breeze becomes chillier.

"You think I should go back?" he inquires, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I think you should do what makes you happy. Theoretical physics makes you happy," you reply, drifting your fingertips over his chest.

"You make me happy," he murmurs sweetly, laying his head down on the pillow as you do so.

"I'm not theoretical. I'm right here," you whisper.

"Thank God for that," he groans, wrapping his arms around you.

When the alarm goes off for work, Guk is completely unexcited. You on the other hand are already used to getting up at this time. Your body clock, even while you're pregnant, still works just the same.

"Work time," you chirp, pressing a kiss to Guk's temple.

He groans loudly in disagreement, pouting up in your direction even with his eyes still glued shut.

"You don't have to come," you remind him, getting out of your large bed.

Hawking jumps up to be the handsome man's cuddling partner and you simply smirk at the sight. He wraps his arms around the large dog, accepting the sweet, excited licks.

"Dude, your breath. Goddamn," he wheezes, rolling out of the bed until he's on the floor.

You simply snort, getting ready to take on the day as you enter your bathroom.

It isn't a minute later before your fiance enters with sleepy eyes and a wild bed head.

"Can I spend the day with you?" he begs sweetly, putting some toothpaste on his brush.

"Probably not because I have my own office," you reply sweetly, combing your hair out.

"So? Move my stuff into your office," Guk garbles, brushing his teeth.

"Namjoon has to teach you your job first," you try to reason.

Jeongguk simply rolls his eyes. "I'm answering the phone, not saving lives. I know how to answer a phone."

"I know, baby," you reply, running a hand over his bare arm.

You don't know how well this is going to work out but since Guk wanted to try it there's no reason to say no. In fact, you find it nice that he wants to work with you. But you do know that At Your Service was completely different from your job. Guk didn't have anyone to answer to except his clients and he was never told what to do by superiors because that's not how the job worked.

He wants to be close to you and that's great! But it also leaves a lot of things up in the air.

For one, he does not want to work under Namjoon. He said, 'I would rather roll around in pig shit.' Which isn't the best way to start off.

While he is still appreciative that Joon helped the two of you get back together, something inside of him will still never let go of the fact that the tall blonde man loved you for years.

"You should just chain me up to the bed with my cock out and make me wait for you to get home," he suggests cheekily, wrapping his arms around you.

There's a sudden sweet stare off through the large illuminated mirror before you and he breaks first with a dancing smile that makes the corners of his eyes scrunch up cutely.

"Y'know, I can be a good assistant without Namjoon telling me how to do it," he suggests, brushing his hair.

"Guk," you breathe, looking over at him.

"I'm just playing, baby. I'll take it on the chin. I know work is different and you're very professional," he announces, simmering down.

"I don't want you to be miserable," you simply state, turning on the bath.

"I'm never miserable when I'm with you, baby girl," he answers, stepping out of his briefs.

"Well good!" you cheer, stepping into the bathtub.

"But I will be miserable if Namjoon starts some shit," Guk whispers audibly, stepping in as well.

You simply blink at him before going under the bath water and closing your eyes.

Today is going to be… really fun.

#at your service #ays #jeongguk fic #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk smut #bts

[becca-e-barnes]

I’m literally drooling over the thought of sensitive Bucky whimpering and whining while fucking your tits and thighs he’s so pathetic and needy all he wants is to make you feel good and to fill you with his cum even if it overstimulates him

Okay, tit fucking is great and all but thigh fucking is SO underrated in my humble opinion. Could just be the fact I've got a small chest though lmao

It's so fun when you're already really into it and the insides of your thighs are all slick. I feel like Bucky would lose it, getting to see your face and look in your eyes and enjoy your body.

It's a nice one to do while laid on your side, facing each other. Although the angle isn't quite right for him to slip inside you, it's fun to explore the other ways your bodies can steal pleasure from one another.

"This isn't going to work, sweetheart." You can't help but laugh, having already tried everything you can think of to make the height difference work. There's no way to keep this romantic and intimate in that position because there's just no chance of aligning your bodies properly to allow him to press inside you.

"Maybe not. But it feels nice anyway." His eyes flutter shut, gliding his dick over the smooth, soft, warm insides of your thighs, encouraged by how slick and easy your arousal makes the movement.

You adjust yourself to bring your other thigh on top of his length, closing him in on both sides.

You're wet enough that friction doesn't impede his movement too much and there's something oddly romantic about it. Maybe it's his hand smoothing the back of your head or his other hand up your back, pulling your body closer to his.

It's so intimate, watching his face as he whines your name, rutting senselessly against your thighs. The little flush to his cheeks is beautiful and you can't resist kissing the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. The thick duvet on top of you both, coupled with your combined body heat means the room is far hotter than you'd planned.

You take a second to reach between your bodies, spreading your wet folds and readjusting his length, letting him drag his cock against your neglected clit with each stroke and oh, that's pretty mind-blowing.

"O-oh my God." He whines, desperately fucking himself against your wet cunt, rather than into it. It's a different kind of pleasure to being inside you and while they're not comparable sensations, it doesn't stop this from feeling fantastic.

"Fuck, that's good." You groan, rolling your hips to meet his. Your fingers dip between you once more, gathering some of your slick arousal, using it to glide your fingertips over the underside of his shaft and over his balls.

"Holy shit, that's - fuck." Bucky's hardly got a coherent thought left in his head. He's closed in on both sides by your wet, soft thighs and now your fingers are giving him a different sensation underneath while pressing him against your soaked sex.

"I know, baby. Feels good, doesn't it?" Your fingertips trail lightly back and forth over the underside of his shaft, focusing on the inch or so beneath the tip.

"I can't... I need to cum." He groans, thrusting frantically, clinging to your body to keep you close. Within a few seconds, you feel his dick pulse under your fingertips, his cum coating the inside of your thighs in hot, thick, messy spurts.

He doesn't waste a second, kissing your forehead before kissing your neck and whispering "Good girl. Now let me watch you get yourself off with my cum on your fingertips."

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #anon #needy!bucky #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky #was this one something I've been fortunate enough to try? Absolutely. #and has it bounced around in my head ever since?? yep #I've got so many 💦sports asks #and I've been really hesitant to answer them bc I have people I know irl on here now #but honestly if my interests so far haven't freaked you out #those probably won't either #I made the best overnight oats last night I've been thinking about them all day #white chocolate chunks with raspberries and peanut butter #with oat milk #and I'm using that to distract me from the fact I'm locked out of my work emails and I can't do my Sunday evening email clear up #it's freaking me out that I can't get into them #that'll mean I have so much to do tomorrow morning #I'll probably lose my hour home on the train tomorrow trying to catch up #I love my hour to work and my hour home from work on the train #that's my me time #where I read my silly little book and chill

[misswoozi]

I think Taeyong is the bottom-iest bottom to ever bottom AND I think Doyoung tops 100% of the time in DoTae PLUS I think Doyoung generally has zero interest in bottoming at all. But with that in mind... is there any scenario whatsoever in which Taeyong randomly gets in the mood to top and Doyoung actually lets him?

#I've been thinking about this all day #re: 127's fruity day on weverse #NCT smut #NCT 127 smut #Doyoung smut #Taeyong smut

[butchdonne]

would you like to not be normal about all for the game with me

yes i would very much like to not be normal about all for the game with you

#i've been thinking about it recently because a friend of mine is reading it rn!! it has been On My Mind #omg i loved that series so much tho i read it all in like two days #the most vivid torture scenes i would read sitting in the back of a french lesson #smut in chemistry #year 10 was just Like That tbh #pip squeaks

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

#fannish shenanigans #fandom history #rare ass personal post

[msgexymunson]

The Ink Shop

Description: Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson. 

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI or I'll tell your parents, fem reader, thick sexual tension, angst and smut. Fingering. 

A/N: I finally wrote it! The teach me fic I've been day dreaming about forever. This will be part one of three, and honestly this is one of the hottest things I've written. If you enjoy it, please comment and reblog, it means the world to me. 

8k words

Masterlist Part 2

Screwing your nose up in confusion, you look at the meticulously cut snippet of newspaper neatly attached to your resume with a paperclip. Sure enough, receptionist and administrator wanted for a place called ‘The Ink Shop’. 

The outside of the building looks a little bleak, all decked out in black with frosted windows, but the fading lettering above does indeed spell out ‘The Ink Shop’. 

Weird. This does not look like a printers. 

You smooth down a minor wrinkle in your white shirt and open the door with unsure hands, the bell above ringing out loudly. 

Oh. 

This is not a printers. This is a tattoo shop. 

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors. 

Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it. 

“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look. 

“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’. 

“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare. 

“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.” 

The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…

“No, no, I'm here about the job?” 

He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare. 

“Really? You?” 

“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance. 

“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?” 

Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over. 

“You can let go now princess.” 

Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing. 

“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume. 

A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up. 

“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.” 

As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac. 

“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!” 

Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips. 

“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?” 

Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again. 

“Are you immediate start?” 

“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-” 

“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.” 

Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.

“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.” 

Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you. 

********************

So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it. 

It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this. 

A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations. 

“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.” 

Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.

“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.” 

Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time. 

Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.

Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad. 

“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled. 

“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.

At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place. 

Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that? 

“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand. 

Oh I'm not falling for that again. 

You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed. 

“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.” 

“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.” 

He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here. 

“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms. 

He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him. 

“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.” 

Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away. 

“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.” 

He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing. 

You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie. 

********************

Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie. 

“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?” 

“Any appointments with Eddie?” 

“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?” 

It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back. 

“Any walk-ins?”

The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm. 

“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?” 

Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”

“Do you have any, princess?” 

“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.” 

The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement. 

“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!” 

The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back. 

“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!” 

It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind. 

Chloe walks over, coat in her hand. 

“Hey, how you getting on?” 

“I'm good, just bored.” 

She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?” 

You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers. 

“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.” 

She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe. 

“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown. 

“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.” 

A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.” 

“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.” 

Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Right, let's just play nice. 

Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing. 

“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light. 

“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.

“You know, that's a waste of a needle.” 

Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you. 

“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?” 

“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-” 

Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo. 

“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing. 

“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.” 

Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step. 

********************

Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people. 

It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.

Breathe. Just breathe. 

Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots. 

You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were. 

“Morning Eddie.” 

“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words. 

He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him. 

“I'll be nice if you will.” 

Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee. 

“I'm sorry Eddie.” 

Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs. 

“Are you sorry…?” 

“What for?” 

Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away. 

“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop. 

“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face. 

“Yeah, how do you know?” 

“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client. 

It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again. 

He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move. 

Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first. 

“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?” 

Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?” 

He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.” 

“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.” 

Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.

“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.” 

He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement. 

“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?” 

“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.” 

Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.

“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?” 

“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.” 

He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process. 

“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”

Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word. 

“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you. 

“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson. 

“So, questions. Can I go first?” 

“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin. 

“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?” 

“23.” 

He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.” 

Act younger is more like it. 

“I'm gonna start, you still alright?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.” 

He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.

The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling. 

“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?” 

The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow. 

“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.” 

He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink. 

“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.” 

Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask. 

“How did you start working here?” 

Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.” 

“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look. 

“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.” 

You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen. 

“What band is that?” 

It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt. 

“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.” 

“Oh, what do you play?” 

His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.” 

After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.

“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?” 

It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away. 

“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red. 

There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply. 

“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.” 

Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing. 

“Your turn princess.” 

“I don't want to play anymore.” 

“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.” 

“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?” 

To your dismay, he smiles yet again.

“You, sweetheart.” 

Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.” 

He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.” 

“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused. 

“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”

It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you. 

“All done.” 

“Huh?” 

He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.” 

It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip. 

“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.” 

The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.” 

Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second. 

“Eddie what do I owe-” 

“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”

********************

The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him. 

Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line. 

Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap. 

“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, what is it Miss?” 

“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?” 

“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him. 

He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.” 

“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer. 

Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear. 

“What you up to, princess?” 

“Fuck!” 

You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach. 

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look. 

Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass. 

“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!” 

Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal. 

“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.” 

Pouting, you hit him on the arm. 

“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-” 

Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands. 

“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home. 

It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you. 

Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing. 

It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.

There's a gentle knock on the door. 

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it. 

“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there. 

“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.” 

He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest. 

As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away. 

After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?” 

“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself. 

Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away. 

“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?” 

“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.” 

Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist. 

“For your modesty. Come with me.” 

Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried. 

“What's going-” 

Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?” 

Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods. 

“Not a problem.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth. 

“I'll be right back.” 

If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin. 

“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar. 

John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here.” 

“Oh come on, you know you missed me.” 

John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.” 

A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal. 

“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.” 

You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you. 

“Eddie, we're still working I-” 

“It's one beer. It's alright.” 

You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?” 

Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug. 

“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.” 

Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier. 

“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.” 

Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?” 

“Come on, don't make me say it.” 

Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you. 

“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.” 

Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty. 

‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull. 

“And I'm the Easter bunny.” 

Giggling, you take another sip of beer. 

“Come on, friends? Talk to me.” 

Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?” 

“I promise.” 

You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough. 

“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.

“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?” 

“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar. 

“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles. 

“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.” 

Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes. 

“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.” 

He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings. 

“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.” 

There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it. 

“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.” 

Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice. 

“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.” 

You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.” 

“We can keep it professional.” 

You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord. 

“Professional? You?” 

“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.” 

A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words. 

“You're really confident.” 

“You haven't seen what I can do.” 

Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.” 

“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.” 

Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need. 

“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?” 

“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?” 

“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind. 

“Final rule. No kissing.” 

He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?” 

“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.” 

Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out. 

“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness. 

You shake it.

********************

For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it. 

Those theories are put to bed on day three. 

After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.

Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?” 

“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes. 

“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely. 

“Maybe.” 

Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. 

“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.” 

Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands. 

“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.” 

By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards. 

In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision. 

The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?” 

“Hey princess.” 

“Come on up.” 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy. 

“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles. 

“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?” 

You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table. 

“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.” 

He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.” 

He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt. 

“Yeah, you know who they are?” 

“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.” 

You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.” 

He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.” 

Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve. 

“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own. 

“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms. 

“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him. 

 “Come on then, sit down.” 

Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed. 

“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?” 

Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?” 

He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?” 

Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes. 

“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him. 

“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more. 

“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.

“What on earth are you talking about?” 

“Porn, sweetheart.” 

It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.” 

“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him. 

“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-” 

He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.

“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.” 

“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.” 

His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?” 

“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.” 

“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good. Just relax.” 

You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm. 

You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop. 

“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?” 

“Alright.” You whisper. 

“You comfortable?” 

“Yeah it's just- well-”

“Tell me.” 

“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine. 

“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed. 

“Now just chill sweetheart.” 

His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck. 

“Fuck, that's really nice.” 

He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed. 

“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word. 

“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.

“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.

“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.

“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe. 

“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!” 

Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment. 

“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.” 

“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck. 

“I- I haven't decided yet.” 

“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core. 

“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him. 

“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?” 

Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words. 

 “N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.” 

He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.” 

“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast. 

“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point. 

“Really?” 

There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back. 

“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand. 

“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more. 

He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass. 

His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you. 

Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples. 

“Holy hell!” 

He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach. 

“Eddie, please.” 

Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit. 

The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest. 

“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?” 

Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs. 

“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”

Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel. 

When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more. 

“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?” 

You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.

“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple. 

The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess. 

He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison. 

“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control. 

“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-” 

You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him. 

“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”

The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent. 

You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.

“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair. 

“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.” 

“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-” 

You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up. 

“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light. 

“What do you mean sweetheart?” 

“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...” 

He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.” 

“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief. 

“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again. 

“You seem better already. Right, I better go.” 

Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.” 

“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.” 

And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting. 

As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #tattoo artist!eddie #teach me/show me Eddie #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem reader

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | jjk

☆summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: masturbation. that's it, that's the whole thing. Cumshot on his hand tattoos. Jungkook is hella horny for reader and jerks off thinking about her - fantasies of oral sex (male and female receiving), of unprotected sex, of rough sex, of hickeys and marking (scratches on the back), of shower sex, of spanking, of choking, of creampies, of clit play, of fingering and squirting. Multiple orgasms, lowkey pain kink and praise kink (let me know if I forgot something)

☆word count: 1.8k (I think it's the shortest thing I've ever written on here lmao)

☆a/n: pure unedited sins bc mr jeon jungkook makes me horny despite being in the army. hope this doesn't disappoint lmaooo thank you to @wintaerbaer for her help with the banner (it would have been a horrible mess without your guidance) and for encouraging me to write this!! love you Ari <3333

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re driving him insane.

You. Are. Driving. Him. Insane.

Insane.

Every time Jungkook sees you at the gym, he goes insane. Completely, utterly, insane. He thinks there has to be a better word in the dictionary to describe what you do to him but, alas, he can’t find it.

So insane it is, and he tries to live up to the name.

He’s been home for five minutes, and he’s already in his bed, dick so hard he thinks it’ll explode. Because of course you had to be doing squats today, in those way too tight biker shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Your thick ass, stretching the fabric so much he thinks he spied a thong underneath…

Jungkook grunts, hiding his eyes behind his arm, trying to erase the picture from his mind. But he can’t. You’re everywhere – behind his closed eyelids, or a ghost in his room when he opens his eyes again.

It’s been that way since the very first day he saw you at the gym. Jungkook caught sight of you and immediately had a boner, which hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake, yet the sight of you turns him on far more than anything ever has.

You’re just… perfect. Too hot, your body perfectly sculpted by the hours you spend at the gym every week. Jungkook dreams of dragging his hands, his tongue, on every inch of your body. Of caressing your hard-earned muscles, of gripping the meat of your ass…

Of grinding into you and hearing the little breathy moans he’s sure that you make in the thralls of passion.

Fuck.

If he’s honest, he would have fucked you that first time. Would have approached you and charmed you, seduced you until he’d have you writhing under his body. But one look – one damn look – at your keychain, and he knew you were off limits.

The bright pink Kooky plushie hanging from the keychain was a firm reminder that he cannot approach you, ever. Indeed, he doesn’t mix pleasure with work, which is starting to prove increasingly hard as he gets more famous, and as his fans grow way too numerous.

As his fans, as you pretend that you don’t recognize him when you go to the gym, even though he catches you looking at him all the time. Yet he can’t approach you, won’t approach you, ever. But nothing stops him from exploring his dirty little fantasies, whenever he wraps his hand around his cock…

Jungkook grunts, and he decides to take manners into his own hands, literally. He wishes it’d be your hand, gripping his cock once he’s pushed his shorts and underwear down. Wishes you’d hold him tight as you’d jerk him off slowly, eyes never leaving his.

He imagines you taking him in your mouth. Your plump lips, wrapping around the tip of his cock, sucking once as he’d fist your hair, restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth. Or maybe you’d give him the go to fuck your mouth, to unleash himself on you…

Jungkook moans, and he jerks himself off, slowly. Eyes closed as he imagines everything he wants you to do to him, everything he wants to do to you. His hand is not nearly enough to pleasure him, not when he’s been craving you the way that he has…

But it’ll make do.

Spitting in his other hand, Jungkook holds his dick up to rub the natural lube on the head of his cock. He winces – he’s already so damn sensitive… Probably because he’s sported a semi since he saw you at the gym.

Who gave you the right to go to the gym in those shorts, with only a sports bra to pair with them? You looked devilish, downright sinful, and you’ve dragged him to hell.

Once his dick is lubed up, glistening in the dim light from the hallway because he sure as hell didn’t have time to turn the lights on in his room, Jungkook strokes himself, slowly. Tattooed fingers firmly wrapped around his cock, just the way he likes it – right under the tip, hard enough to hurt just a little bit.

Hard enough to make him wish he was fucking your tight pussy instead. He imagines the drag of your walls on his dick, on his veins and on the ridge of his tip. He imagines your breasts bouncing up and down as you’d ride him, and then your face, contorted in pleasure, as he’d jackhammer into you.

He’s had noise complaints from his neighbours once, because of the loud singing he does once in a while, when he goes live for his fans. Right now, he wishes he’d get a noise complaint because they’d hear him fucking you good, fucking you until you’d crumble into ecstasy.

He picks up the pace on his dick, free hand grabbing at the white sheet of his bed. Would you be the type to moan unabashedly loud? To say his name when you come, when your walls flutter on his dick?

The thought makes his dick twitch in his hand, and Jungkook grunts again, curses underneath his breath. He doesn’t even know your name, but he sure as hell knows he’d come with your name a litany on his lips, a sinful melody he’d sing just for you to hear.

Would you drag your nails on his back, marking him so that the world knows you’re his? Would you suck on his neck, leave hickeys behind that he’d have to hide under foundation? Would you beg for him, or would you be a brat?

He wants you to be a brat. He wants to have to put you back into your place, to spank your ass and choke you until all you know is his name. He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you. And maybe one day he’ll betray his number one rule, maybe one day he’ll fuck you into the night, hear you cry with pleasure as he’d pump his load inside of you…

His imagination is running wild, and his pace on his dick is relentless, unforgiving. His bicep burns already, even though he’s barely started. Or maybe he’s just too lost in his fantasies, losing track of time. But he doesn’t care – he’d lose track of time fucking you, too.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows bunched together as if in pain. But he’s not hurting – he feels way too good, the pleasure running through his blood a symphony every cell inside of him is addicted to.

You’re just too beautiful to him. He’d fucking crawl on his knees for you, or maybe he’d make you crawl. He’d force you to crawl, to beg for him, to…

Jungkook grunts loudly, his orgasm hitting so hard it feels like a trainwreck. He doesn’t slow down his pace on his dick right away, letting his cum spurt out and drip on his fingers, on the back of his hand. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess – he’s lost to his pleasure, and he doesn’t want to come back to sanity. He wants to stay insane, and so he drags his orgasm out, milks it out of himself.

And he comes a lot, painting his whole fucking hand white. He’d think it to be disgusting, but when he looks down at his hand, fuzzy from his blissed-out pupils, he sees that he’s covered his tattoos with cum. His army tattoo – the closest he’ll get to come on you. He curses at the sight, hates that it’s turning him on again and that his dick twitches, begging for more. But all he does is watch the cum – it covers the three first letters, but it’s slowly dripping towards the y, and soon the whole tattoo will be covered, like he fucking wishes your pussy would be covered with his cum, dripping with it. He’d finger you with it.

Fucking hell.

Jungkook gives in to the unrelenting desire once he’s in the shower, trying to clean himself. A single thought of your thick ass and the stretched fabric of your biker shorts sends him back to square one, and he jerks himself off again, fast and hard, his free hand leaning on the wall. He’s quick to shift and put his forearm against the wall instead, hiding his face in his arm. And then he imagines fucking you in this shower, taking you from behind as your ass cheeks shake from his ministrations. He imagines you trying to find purchase on the wall, your hands slipping until he pulls you back into his chest. He’d hold you tight, wrap a hand around your neck, and he’d find your clit with his other hand.

He’d make you come so fucking hard. All night long. He doesn’t think he’d let you even fucking walk out of his apartment. He’d fuck you seven days a week, wouldn’t even leave his bed.

This time, his release hits differently, not as strong. It still fills his blood with ecstasy, and his head swims as he watches his cum go down the drain. His hand, his tattoos, are mostly clean this time around, and he imagines them covered in your cum instead. In your sleek juices as he’d finger you, making you squirt everywhere…

He curses loudly, turning the shower to cold, immediately wincing as the water hits his back. But it’s the only way he thinks he’ll manage to chase his arousal away. Hell, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his fucking evening masturbating. Though it’d be worth it, and he’s fully aware that he’d be able to. He’d just need to think of you, and he’d be ready to go again.

But when he steps out of the shower, he decides otherwise. He decides to go live – are you watching him, from wherever it is that you live in this city? Do you know that you make him insane, so, so insane that he just came twice to the thought of you?

He smirks, watching the comments coming in even though he hasn’t said anything yet. They fly too fast for him to be able to read anything, but he knows.

He knows that you’re there, on the other side of the screen, watching him as he watches you. Where else would you be?

And he knows damn well that next time he’ll see you, he’ll talk to you. Fuck the rules, fuck the fact that you’re his fan. He needs to fuck you, to know what your pussy taste like and how you sound when you come.

So next time he sees you, instead of jerking himself off alone, Jungkook knows he’ll ask you to give a helping hand.

Next

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Welcome to the land of sinning lmao hope you enjoyed this short ride! Let me know what you thought - it always motivates me to write more stuff like this ;)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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