#Harrison Wells smut

[atommadly]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

Pairing: EoWells x Reader Warnings: Smut, slightly dominating behavior

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘺. 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺.

Masterlist

The hum of machinery and the low whirr of computers filled the air in STAR Labs, a place you never thought you’d find yourself. The sterile white walls and cool steel of the futuristic building were oddly familiar, but it wasn’t the lab itself that kept your mind occupied. No, it was the man beside you. Or, more precisely, the man who wore someone else's face.

Eobard Thawne. The man who had, in a twisted stroke of fate, claimed Harrison Wells’s identity. To the world, he was a brilliant scientist, a mentor, and a valued member of Team Flash. But to you, he was much more. He was the love of your life.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You and Eobard weren’t supposed to be stuck in this time, this period of history so different from your own. After all, you came from the future, hundreds of years ahead of this moment, an era where things had already spiraled out of control. Where your names were whispered with fear, where your plans had once nearly succeeded. Where you had once been the true power behind the man who had been called Reverse-Flash.

And you were no stranger to the darkness that came with your past. Both of you had been villains. Together, you had waged a war against the Flash, your sworn enemy. You had been partners in crime, partners in everything.

But fate had other plans. Eobard’s obsession with Barry Allen led you both to travel back to the past, to Barry’s childhood, where you thought you could erase him before he ever became the hero you both despised. But Barry was a survivor. And despite your best efforts, your plan had failed.

You had ended up stuck in the year 2000, lost and stranded, your connection to the future severed. It wasn’t the end of your journey, though. Not by a long shot. You quickly realized you would have to adapt, make a new plan—because there was one thing you both had in common: you would do anything to return to your time.

The answer was simple, yet dark. Barry Allen, the Flash, the very person who had stopped you, was the key. But instead of erasing him, you decided to help him become the man who would one day become your nemesis—the hero you both despised. You would create the Flash, in your own twisted way.

Now, here you were, years later, standing in STAR Labs, working under the guise of a simple assistant to Harrison Wells, a man you never truly met but whose face was now worn by the love of your life. You had agreed to keep your relationship secret—at least, in this time. If anyone ever discovered the truth of your connection, everything would fall apart. You knew it. Eobard knew it.

Pretending—playing the part of a loyal assistant, the quiet ally in STAR Labs—was becoming harder by the day. Especially when Eobard’s jealousy began to show itself in ways that were hard to ignore.

Despite knowing, deep down, that you would eventually betray everyone, your bond with the Flash team—your enemies—was growing more complicated. There was something almost intoxicating about it. The camaraderie. The shared moments of success. Even the small victories felt sweeter, despite your hidden agenda.

Cisco was a big part of that. You had never intended for it to happen, but somehow, over the months, you’d become... friends. It started as simple conversations, you offering your insight into a problem, him cracking jokes, and gradually, that harmless banter had turned into playful flirting.

It was innocent, you told yourself. It was a game.

But Eobard didn’t see it that way.

He watched you with eyes sharp as knives, even when you thought he wasn’t looking. You knew it drove him mad. The way you laughed a little too easily at Cisco’s jokes. The way you lingered just a second too long when your hands brushed, or how your smiles were always just a little too bright when Cisco was around.

It was all for show. For fun. To see just how far you could push Eobard before his obsession with control unraveled.

And today? Today was no different.

You had made a point to be close to Cisco, leaning in as he explained some new tech breakthrough, your fingers brushing his as you passed a piece of equipment. He grinned, his usual mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You could feel the tension building in the air, but you had to let it play out.

Eobard was sitting across the room, his expression carefully neutral, but you could see the slight clench of his jaw, the rigidity in his posture. The way his fingers twitched, itching to take control of the situation.

Perfect.

You turned your attention back to Cisco, letting the flirtation flow more freely. “I have to admit,” you teased, your voice low and playful. “You’ve got quite the knack for this tech stuff. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to make me fall for you.”

Cisco’s laugh rang out, light and carefree, as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Trying to get you to join Team Cisco?” He waggled his eyebrows, clearly enjoying the playful exchange.

You smiled, but there was a part of you that was watching Eobard closely. His eyes were fixed on you and Cisco now, his lips barely concealing the anger brewing beneath the surface. You could almost feel the storm inside him. He was losing his patience.

But that was the fun of it.

“Maybe you should,” you teased, keeping your gaze locked on Cisco. “I’m sure it would be... interesting to work alongside someone who knows how to keep a girl entertained.”

The flirtation was light, but Eobard’s eyes were turning darker by the second. He was growing agitated, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his wheelchair, his entire body leaning forward, as if trying to restrain himself from saying or doing something rash.

When everyone else finally filed out—Cisco, Caitlin, and Barry—your eyes never left Eobard. You could feel the tension building between you, like a thick, invisible wire being pulled tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

And then, in a flash of yellow lightning, the world around you blurred.

One second you were standing in the Cortex, pretending to be absorbed in a trivial task, the next you were pressed against the cold stone wall of Eobard’s time chamber, the air charged with the weight of his presence.

The speed of his movement didn’t even register at first. You didn’t have time to react before he slammed you against the wall, his hands grabbing your wrists with brutal precision. You didn’t struggle. Instead, you leaned into the feeling, the rush of power he exuded, the sharpness of his gaze as he held you captive in this moment.

Eobard’s proximity was overwhelming. His body was a mere inch away from yours, and his breath was uneven, the heat from his anger brushing against your skin. His eyes glowed with that familiar fire—the same obsession, the same desire to control everything in his orbit. You knew you had pushed him past his limit, and you were relishing every second of it.

"What's the problem, my love?" you asked innocently, your voice sweet and teasing, though the words were laced with a hidden challenge.

Eobard’s lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. "What are you playing at, Y/N?" he growled, his grip tightening around your wrists, his anger now fully unrestrained.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you tilted your head, feigning innocence. "What? Are you jealous?" you taunted, raising an eyebrow, your lips curling into a wicked smile.

"I’m not jealous," Eobard hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You’re mine."

The words hung in the air, thick with intent. He wasn’t just angry; he was possessive. And that possessiveness made your pulse race, your heart hammering in your chest. There was something intoxicating about the way he viewed you—how he couldn’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, even if that “anyone else” was just a harmless flirtation with Cisco.

But the truth was, you did enjoy pushing him, seeing that primal, almost animalistic response from him. It was one thing to control the situation with words, but when you had him here, in this moment, this space, it was all too tempting to keep testing him.

“Prove it,” you whispered, your lips barely brushing his, just enough to send a jolt of electricity between you. The challenge was unmistakable, and you could feel the way his body tensed, a barely contained fury and desire mixed into one intoxicating force.

A low growl erupted from his chest before he closed the distance between you in an instant, slamming his lips against yours. The kiss was savage, hungry—his mouth urgent and demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to claim you.

You moaned softly into the kiss, feeling the sharp edge of his teeth graze your bottom lip, the fire inside you spreading from your stomach to your core. 

The heat of his kiss grew, a clash of tongues, a mixture of desperate need and pure raw hunger. You could feel his frustration and yearning with every sweep of his lips, the bruising pressure of his hands gripping your wrists even tighter as he pinned you to the wall. But it didn’t stop you from pressing into him, from responding with an equal hunger, matching his intensity.

You wanted more. Needed more. You moved against him, your body shifting and grinding against his in a slow, deliberate rhythm, your hips teasingly rolling, feeling the hard length of him against your stomach.

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and you could feel his restraint breaking, the sharp, primal edge to his movements now fully unleashed. His grip on your wrists tightened painfully, but you didn’t care. In fact, you relished it. There was something about the way he held you, as though you were the only thing in the world worth claiming, worth owning. It made your heart race, your breath hitching in your chest.

You ground against him again, feeling his hardness through the fabric of his pants, and you couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of your lips. The power you had over him was undeniable, and you were going to push it as far as you could.

Eobard finally let go of one of your wrists, but it wasn’t to give you freedom. Instead, his hand slid down your body, settling on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin, pulling you even harder against the wall. The sudden pressure against you stopped your movements, but it only seemed to make you crave him more.

"You’re a little pest, you know that?" His voice was thick with frustration, but there was an undercurrent of something else—something darker, more possessive. The words left his mouth in a growl, but there was a strange, almost affectionate quality to them. He was angry, but he wanted you. That much was undeniable.

"You love it," you murmured, your breath shallow, already out of breath from the intensity of the kiss, from the fire building in your body. You didn’t need to look at him to know the effect those words would have. You could feel the way his body stiffened, the pulse of energy between you both, the primal hunger in his every movement.

He didn’t answer, but his grip on your hip tightened as his other hand released your other wrist. You didn’t have time to process the change before you felt his fingers trailing up your skirt, slowly, purposefully, as if savoring every moment of your vulnerability. You gasped when his hand found its destination, his fingers brushing against the lace of your panties, teasing you with a gentle pressure.

You let out a shaky breath as he slid his fingers against the fabric, the slow, teasing touch pushing your body to its limit. There was a brief moment of relief, the sensation of his hand pressing against the sensitive heat between your legs sending an almost overwhelming jolt of pleasure through your system.

Eobard’s lips never left yours. They were urgent, desperate, as though he couldn’t get enough of you. His kiss was a fusion of hunger and control, pulling you deeper into the moment. But his mouth didn’t stay on your lips for long. It was as if he couldn’t resist tracing every inch of your skin, moving down your jawline, along your neck, leaving a trail of scorching kisses in his wake.

You arched your neck, the sensation of his lips on your skin driving you wild. "I don’t ever want to see you flirt with another man again," he growled against your ear, his breath warm and ragged. The words came out rough, possessive, like a threat. But there was an undeniable weight to them, a command that sent a thrill through your veins.

You were already lost in him, your body moving against him with a mind of its own, riding the waves of pleasure as his hand continued its slow, deliberate movements over your clit. The lace of your panties was no obstacle to him; his fingers worked their way over the fabric with precision, tracing every sensitive curve, building you up slowly, steadily, until you were writhing under his touch. Your moans came louder now, one after another, the sound of your pleasure mingling with the soft rasp of his breath against your skin.

"You’re mine," he muttered, his voice thick with intent. The words felt like a brand against your skin, marking you in ways that left no room for doubt. His thumb pressed down harder, faster now, applying just the right amount of pressure as his movements quickened. You could feel the heat building in your core, the tension tightening inside you as the pleasure became nearly unbearable.

“Understand?” he demanded, his voice dark, commanding, a stark contrast to the desperate need you could hear in it.

“Yes!” you moaned, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the intense pleasure rippled through your body. The sensation was so overwhelming, so electric, that you were certain you were on the brink of unraveling. Every movement of his fingers against you was a perfect stroke, pushing you closer to the edge, the heat within you tightening with each passing second.

But just as you were about to reach your peak, he withdrew his fingers with a sudden, almost cruel speed. A frustrated groan tore from your lips, your body jerking in desperate need, but the sound was quickly silenced by the intensity of Eobard’s next move. His hands were on you in the blink of an eye, his speed rendering everything else irrelevant. In one fluid motion, he tore off your panties, lifting your skirt with ease, exposing you completely to him.

Before you could fully process the rush of sensations, Eobard was already unzipping his pants with a ferocity that matched the hunger in his gaze. He pulled his underwear down swiftly, revealing himself to you. The sight made your mouth go dry. You could feel the heat in your core intensify, and despite the overwhelming desire to touch him, your body was frozen in anticipation. His power, his control—it was intoxicating.

Then, without warning, Eobard lifted you off the floor with the same effortless ease he had displayed all along. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your body pressed against his as he carried you, holding you in place with his strength. You felt the heat of his skin against yours, the tension between your bodies growing with each passing second.

You reached up, your hands framing his face, pulling him closer as your lips found his in a tender, yet passionate kiss. Your heart raced as you gazed into his eyes, the emotion in them almost too much to bear. “I only love you,” you whispered softly, your voice hushed, as if the words were something fragile and sacred. “You know that, don’t you?”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, it was as if time stopped. You saw something flicker in Eobard’s eyes—a crack in the armor he so carefully maintained. The intensity of your confession, the weight of your love, seemed to take him off guard, his usual confident demeanor faltering ever so slightly. It was almost as if he couldn’t believe this was real—that you, in all your complexity and fire, truly felt for him the same way he felt for you.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. His lips crashed onto yours in a kiss that was no longer tender, but urgent, as if he needed to consume you completely. His pelvis ground against yours, and you could feel the hard press of his erection against your core. Your body responded instantly, the desire that had been building between you both finally reaching its peak.

Without warning, Eobard positioned himself at your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate stroke of his hips, he entered you. The sensation was dizzying—hot, intimate, and overwhelming. You gasped, your body tensing for a moment before relaxing into him, feeling the weight of him fill you completely.

His movements were slow at first, almost teasing. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body, stretching you, filling you in a way that had you seeing stars. You locked your legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper, urging him to move faster, harder. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid beat of your own. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you in place, making sure you didn’t escape the intensity of what was happening between you.

His lips never left yours, and you could feel the power of his kiss as it deepened, turning feverish. His tongue tangled with yours, his need for you palpable in every movement. You could feel the overwhelming desire radiating off him, each stroke of his hips an assertion of control, but also a plea—a desperate, primal cry to have you, to keep you, to make you his in every possible way.

And you, lost in him, lost in the moment, responded in kind. Every inch of your body was attuned to him—his touch, his movements, his breath. It was all-consuming, and you reveled in it, feeling every push, every pull, every intimate connection as if it was your first.

“Do you feel that?” Eobard growled between kisses, his voice thick with passion. “You’re mine. Completely. I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

His words shot through you like electricity, igniting something deeper, something that made your pulse race even faster. You moaned in response, your hips grinding against his as you sought more, needing to feel everything he was giving you. The pleasure was a wave that kept building, rising higher, pulling you closer to the edge with every movement.

He thrust into you harder now, faster, each stroke sending you deeper into a blissful, heated haze. His pace quickened as you felt yourself getting closer, the pressure inside you almost unbearable. Every sound you made seemed to push him on, urging him to give you more, to take you higher. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless cry, and he responded with a growl, his hand gripping the back of your head as he kissed you fiercely.

With a final, desperate thrust, you reached the edge, your body shuddering as you finally gave in to the rush of pleasure. Your orgasm rocked through you, leaving you trembling in his arms, your body still wracked with the aftershocks of the intense release. Eobard followed close behind, his movements becoming erratic as he found his own release inside you, his body pulsing with pleasure.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were both gasping for breath, the world spinning as you held each other, completely connected in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy. His hand caressed your cheek gently, his forehead resting against yours, and you could feel the weight of his words, the truth of what he had just claimed.

“Mine,” he whispered softly, his voice hoarse but filled with a possessive love that made your heart swell.

You smiled, your body still wrapped around his, as you kissed him tenderly. “Yours,” you whispered back.

[adriellej]

Damn this is hot! 😱

Rough Around the Edges - (Harry Wells x reader)

A/N: Inspired by a conversation the infamous ‘Wells Trash Trio’ had that I couldn’t help but write! What a good way to see in the new year and my 200 follower mark! :P I do hope you enjoy :D

Summary: Harry neglects to shave for a little while which leaves him with some scruff. He realises that you love it which leads to some action in the workshop… (NSFW)

Warning: Smut (Honestly can’t quite believe I wrote this… it is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written!) 

Keep reading

[021894s]

SIMS ANATOMY - JAKE SIM

SYNOPSIS: you, a top cardiac surgeon, find yourself increasingly frustrated by the distraction over the hospital’s new head of neurosurgery, Dr. Jake Sim. Despite your initial annoyance, you can't help but notice Jake's charm and undeniable skills. As you keep running into each other, Jake’s persistent yet respectful flirtations begin to break through your professional exterior.

PAIRING: neurosurgeon! jake x cardio surgeon! reader

GENRE: workplace romance, situationship

WARNINGS: explicit smut, unprotected sex (don’t), oral (m and f receiving), angst, language, MDNI!!

wc: 12k

You step out of the OR, still riding the adrenaline high from the successful triple bypass surgery you just completed. The intricate dance of sutures and clamps still echoes in your mind as you head towards the nurses' station to update your patient's chart. You’ve always prided yourself on your precision and dedication, and today was no exception.

As you settle into the chair, logging into the system, you can't help but overhear snippets of conversation from the nearby nurses. Their voices are hushed but excited, and despite yourself, your ears prick up at the mention of a new doctor.

"Oh my god, have you seen Dr. Sim yet?" one nurse gushes, her voice practically dripping with admiration. "He's the new head of neuro. I can't believe he's not married with kids."

"Seriously, he's so handsome," another chimes in. "I thought doctors like him only existed in movies."

You roll your eyes internally, feeling a twinge of annoyance. These nurses should be focusing on their patients, not swooning over some new doctor. You know the type—charming, overconfident, used to turning heads wherever he goes. You’ve seen it a hundred times. It’s frustrating to think that professional women, who you’ve seen handle the toughest of medical crises with unflinching composure, could be so easily distracted by a pretty face.

"He smiled at me in the break room," another voice adds, dreamy and far away. "I nearly melted."

You resist the urge to scoff out loud. Instead, you channel your irritation into the chart in front of you, updating the post-op notes with meticulous detail. Your patient, Mr. Harrison, came through the surgery well, and you want to ensure there are no loose ends in his care plan. His vitals are stable, and the grafts look good. You make a note to check on him in an hour.

The chatter continues unabated. "I heard he’s a genius in the OR," someone says. "Apparently, he’s revolutionized some new technique in neurosurgery."

"Brains and looks? Not fair," another nurse quips, and they all dissolve into giggles.

You finish charting, your irritation only growing. It’s not that you begrudge the nurses their moment of levity—being a nurse is hard, often thankless work, and they deserve a bit of fun. But the object of their admiration rubs you the wrong way. You’ve had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously in a male-dominated field, and the idea of a doctor coasting on his looks and charm irks you.

Shaking your head slightly, you stand up and grab the chart. There’s still a lot to do, and you don’t have time to dwell on some pretty boy neurosurgeon. If he’s really as good as they say, you’ll see for yourself soon enough. And if not, well, you’ve never had a problem putting overconfident doctors in their place.

As you walk away from the nurses' station, you hear one last wistful sigh. "I can't wait to see him in action."

Neither can you, you think, but for entirely different reasons.

You step out of the OR, mind still buzzing with the details of the successful valve replacement surgery you just completed. you head to the cardiac unit to check on post-op patients, but something feels off. The usually bustling ward is eerily quiet, with only one nurse, Olivia, stationed at the desk.

“Olivia,” you calls out, her voice cutting through the silence. “Where is everyone?”

Olivia looks up, a hint of guilt flashing in her eyes. “They’re at lunch,” she replies a little too quickly, her tone unconvincing.

you narrows her eyes, knowing Olivia well enough to sense when she’s not telling the full truth. “Olivia...” you say in a stern voice, crossing your arms.

Olivia shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “Okay, fine,” she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “They’re in OR 2’s gallery.”

Confusion flickers across your face. “Why would they be in the gallery?” you ask, your irritation growing.

“Dr. Sim is clipping an aneurysm,” Olivia admits, unable to meet your eyes.

That’s all you need to know, storming off towards the gallery, your footsteps echoing through the hallways. The idea of your nurses neglecting their duties to watch a surgery infuriates your. Jake’s presence in the hospital had already been a source of frustration, and now he was serving as a distraction for your team.

Reaching the gallery, you push open the door and stride in, your eyes scanning the crowd of nurses huddled around the glass, their attention glued to the procedure below. you spot Jake in the OR, skillfully clipping the aneurysm, his focus unwavering.

“What is going on here?” you demand, voice slicing through the murmurs. The nurses jump, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Why are you all here instead of attending to your patients?”

One of the nurses, Carla, steps forward, stammering. “We... we just wanted to see Dr. Sim’s technique. It’s supposed to be groundbreaking.”

your glare is icy. “I don’t care how groundbreaking it is. Your patients come first. Get back to your stations, now.”

The nurses scurry out, their heads bowed in embarrassment. you watch them go, your anger simmering. Jake’s impressive skills might have captivated your team, but to you, he was nothing more than a distraction. you couldn’t afford to have the nurses slacking off, not when lives depended on their diligence.

you turn back to the OR, eyes locking onto Jake. For a brief moment, your gazes meet through the glass, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps? Or was it amusement? Shaking off the thought, you storm out of the gallery, determined to keep your team on track and your own frustrations with Jake in check.

You catch sight of Jake coming out of the OR, his surgical cap still on and his scrubs marked with the evidence of a long, intense procedure. He’s engrossed in conversation with another surgeon, but as you approach, he looks up and meets your gaze.

“You must be Dr. Sim,” you say, your voice firm.

Jake smiles, wiping his hands with a towel. “Dr. Y/L/N, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I could say the same about you,” you reply, not missing a beat. “Seeing as you’re the reason my nurses are disappearing during their shifts to watch this so-called groundbreaking technique of yours.”

His smile falters slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize my surgeries were causing any issues. I’m sorry if they’ve been a distraction.”

“They have,” you state bluntly, crossing your arms. “My team’s focus should be on their patients, not on observing other procedures or a certain brain surgeon, no matter how impressive they might be.”

Jake’s lips curl into a playful grin. “Oh, so you think I’m impressive?”

You feel a flush of annoyance, typical behavior for a neurosurgeon, always so full of themselves. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it,” he teases, taking a step closer. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to maintain your stern demeanor. “My team doesn’t have time for distractions, Dr. Sim.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, his tone still light but his expression more serious. “I understand, and I’ll make sure to address it with the staff. I didn’t mean to disrupt the unit.”

You study him for a moment, gauging his sincerity. Despite your irritation, there’s something about his demeanor that disarms you slightly. You can’t help but notice his deep brown eyes, plump lips, and the way his Australian accent is way more attractive than it should be. You understand, in that moment, why the nurses might be so captivated.

“Good,” you say, your tone softening just a touch. “I appreciate that.”

Jake smiles again, this time a bit more warmly. “And if it’s any consolation, your reputation as a top cardiac surgeon is well-deserved. I look forward to working alongside you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, giving him a curt nod before turning to leave. As you walk away, you can’t shake the mixture of irritation and intrigue. Jake Sim might be causing headaches for your unit, but there’s no denying his skill and charm. You just hope he proves to be more than just a distraction.

A few days later, you find yourself in the hospital’s busy hallway, reviewing patient charts on your tablet. The hum of activity around you is a comforting backdrop until a familiar voice interrupts your focus.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his voice carrying that unmistakable Australian lilt. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You look up, and there he is, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dr. Sim,” you acknowledge with a nod, trying to keep your tone neutral. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought I’d say hello,” he replies, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to you. “And maybe ask how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you respond, keeping your eyes on your tablet.

“Busy as usual, I see,” he notes, glancing at the screen. “You ever take a break?”

“Breaks are for people who don’t have critical patients to tend to,” you reply, not looking up.

He chuckles, the sound warm and annoyingly pleasant. “You know, there’s more to life than work. Maybe you need someone to remind you of that.”

You finally look up, raising an eyebrow. “And I suppose you think you’re that someone?”

“Could be,” he says with a confident grin. “I mean, who better to show you the lighter side of things?”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Confidence is a necessity in our line of work,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “But I’ve heard it helps in other areas too.”

“Oh really? Like what?” you ask, despite yourself.

He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Like convincing brilliant surgeons to step out of their comfort zones once in a while.”

You scoff lightly, shaking your head. “I don’t need convincing, Dr. Sim. I have my priorities straight.”

“Of course you do,” he replies smoothly. “But even the best of us need a break sometimes. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you out. Just offering a bit of friendly advice.”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Friendly advice, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he says with a wink. “Think of it as a, professional courtesy.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite your best efforts to stay stern. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” he says, flashing that infuriatingly charming smile. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to saving lives. But if you ever need a reminder of what fun looks like, you know where to find me.”

later that day, the hospital corridors are quieter than usual as you make your way to the elevators, finally heading home after a long shift. The soft hum of the building is almost soothing after the constant noise of the OR. You press the button and wait, your mind already shifting to thoughts of a hot shower and some much-needed sleep.

The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, you see Jake standing inside, leaning against the back wall, his expression relaxed but alert. He looks up and his face lights up with a familiar, playful smile.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he greets, stepping aside to make room for you. “Heading home too?”

“Dr. Sim,” you reply, stepping in and pressing the button for the ground floor. “Looks like it.”

The doors close, and the elevator begins its descent. The enclosed space suddenly feels a bit smaller with the two of you in it.

“Long day?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“You could say that,” you respond, leaning back against the wall. “You?”

“Same here,” he says, a hint of fatigue creeping into his voice. “But it’s all part of the job, right?”

You nod, a brief silence settling between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s an unspoken tension, a mix of mutual respect and something else you can’t quite put your finger on.

“So,” Jake breaks the silence, a teasing note in his voice. “Any plans for the evening? Or are you one of those surgeons who lives and breathes work even at home?”

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And what about you? Do you have a life outside the hospital, Dr. Sim?”

He laughs softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I try to, when I’m not dealing with brain surgery. But I’ll admit, it’s a challenge. The job can be all-consuming.”

“Tell me about it,” you agree, your tone more relaxed now. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no room for anything else.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s important to find some balance,” he says, his voice sincere. “Even if it’s just little moments here and there.”

You look at him, considering his words. There’s more to Jake than the cocky, flirtatious persona he often projects. “I suppose you’re right.”

The elevator dings again, signaling your arrival at the ground floor. As the doors open, you both step out into the lobby, the cool night air from outside brushing against your skin.

“Need a ride?” Jake offers, his tone casual but there’s a glint of genuine concern in his eyes. “It’s pretty late.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply, appreciating the offer but not ready to blur those professional lines just yet. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Count on it,” he says with a wink. “Have a good night, Dr. Y/L/N.”

“You too, Dr. Sim,” you respond, turning to head towards your car.

As you walk away, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of irritation and curiosity. Jake Sim might be a distraction, but there’s no denying that he’s also starting to become a presence you can’t quite ignore. And maybe, just maybe, that’s not entirely a bad thing.

The next day, you find yourself scrubbing in for a complex procedure. Today’s case is a particularly challenging one: a patient with both a severe cardiac condition and a cerebral aneurysm, requiring the combined expertise of both cardiac and neuro specialists. As you meticulously scrub your hands and arms, you hear the familiar voice of Jake Sim beside you.

“Looks like we’re working together today,” he says, his tone a mix of professionalism and that signature playful edge.

You glance over, meeting his eyes. “Seems like it. Ready for this?”

“Always,” he replies, his confident smile never wavering. “I’ve been looking forward to this case. It’s not every day we get to tackle something this intricate together.”

You nod, appreciating his enthusiasm despite your initial reservations about him. “Agreed. The patient’s condition is precarious. We need to be perfectly in sync.”

Jake gives you a serious nod, his demeanor shifting. “Absolutely. Let’s make sure we give them the best outcome possible.”

You both finish scrubbing in and enter the OR, where the patient is already prepped and waiting. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of tension and anticipation, the surgical team moving with practiced precision. As you take your place on one side of the patient, Jake positions himself on the other, eyes meeting over the sterile field.

“Ready to start?” you ask, your voice steady and focused.

“Ready,” Jake confirms, his expression equally determined.

The surgery begins, and the OR fills with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machinery. You work methodically, your hands moving with practiced precision as you navigate the complex landscape of the patient’s heart. Jake mirrors your concentration, his focus unbroken as he tackles the aneurysm with equal skill.

“Forceps,” you request, your voice calm and controlled.

“Here,” the scrub nurse says, passing the instrument with a fluid motion. “How’s the heart looking?” jake asks

“Stable,” you reply, glancing up briefly to meet his eyes. “How about the aneurysm?”

“It’s going well,” he answers, his tone steady. “We’re almost there.”

As the surgery progresses, you find yourselves falling into a natural rhythm, your movements synchronized in a way that surprises you. There’s a subtle, unspoken understanding between you, each anticipating the other’s needs and adjustments.

“Nice work on that bypass,” Jake comments, his tone genuinely appreciative.

“Thanks,” you reply, a small smile forming behind your mask. “Your precision with the aneurysm is impressive.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot,” he says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

Hours pass, but the intensity of your focus never wanes. Finally, as the last suture is placed and the patient’s vitals stabilize, you both step back, a sense of accomplishment settling over you.

“Great job, everyone,” you say to the team, who respond with nods and murmurs of agreement.

Jake meets your eyes, his expression one of respect and something more. “We make a good team, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You nod, feeling a surprising sense of camaraderie. “We do, Dr. Sim. Let’s hope the patient has a smooth recovery.”

As you step out of the OR and begin the process of de-scrubbing, you can’t help but reflect on the day’s events. Working alongside Jake, seeing his skill and dedication firsthand, has shifted your perspective. He’s still cocky, still flirty, but there’s depth and talent beneath that exterior.

“Drinks tonight to celebrate?” Jake asks, a teasing glint in his eye as you both head towards the locker rooms.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe another time, Dr. Sim. But good work today.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, dropping the formalities for a moment. “Seriously, it was an honor working with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” you admit, giving him a genuine smile before heading off to change.

The next few weeks bring more opportunities for you and Jake to work together, and each collaboration reveals another layer of his skill and personality. Despite his initial cockiness, Jake proves to be a dedicated and talented surgeon, and you begin to see him in a new light. The more time you spend together in the OR, the more you find yourself appreciating his expertise and even enjoying his company.

One evening, you find yourself finishing up some paperwork in the quiet cardiac unit. The day had been long, but fulfilling, with several successful surgeries under your belt. As you look up from your desk, you see Jake approaching, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "You still here?"

"Just wrapping up," you reply, setting aside your pen. "What about you?"

"Same," he says, stepping into your office. "I was going to head out, but I thought I'd check in on you first."

"Checking in on me, huh?" you say with a hint of amusement. "What for?"

"Well, I was thinking," he starts, a bit more serious than usual. "We've been working together a lot lately, and I wanted to say thank you. For trusting me in the OR and for being an amazing colleague."

You feel a warm glow at his words, appreciating the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Jake. You've been a great partner in the OR. I couldn't have asked for a better neurosurgeon to collaborate with."

Jake smiles, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "You know, I think we make a pretty good team."

"I think so too," you admit, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's been nice, working with you."

"Nice, huh?" he teases, his playful side emerging once more. "I'll take that as a high compliment coming from you."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Don't let it go to your head, Sim."

He chuckles, but his expression soon turns more contemplative. "You know, I've been thinking about what I said the other day. About balance and taking breaks. It's something I'm not great at either."

"a little hypocritical to be giving me advice then no?," you reply, your tone light but teasing. "It's hard to switch off when our work is so demanding."

"Exactly," he agrees. "But I've realized that maybe we could help each other with that. Maybe we could find a way to balance things out a bit more."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"How about we start with something simple?" he suggests. "Like taking a real break. Maybe grab a coffee together, no work talk allowed. Just two colleagues, taking a breather."

You consider his offer, the idea surprisingly appealing. "Alright, Dr. Sim. Coffee sounds good."

Jake's smile widens, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Great. Tomorrow morning, then? Before our rounds?"

"Tomorrow morning," you agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

The next morning, you find yourself at the hospital’s small café, waiting for Jake. The early hour means the space is quiet, with only a few other staff members milling about. When Jake arrives, he’s carrying two steaming cups of coffee, a smile on his face.

“Good morning,” he greets, handing you a cup. “Thought I’d get us a head start.”

“Thanks,” you say, accepting the coffee and taking a sip. “So, what’s on your mind, Dr. Sim?”

“Just enjoying the company,” he replies, sitting down across from you. “And maybe getting to know the person behind the scalpel a little better.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start simple,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “What do you do when you’re not saving lives?”

You think for a moment, realizing how rare it is for you to talk about anything other than work. “I like to read, mostly. And sometimes I go for a run. It helps clear my head.”

“Sounds nice,” he says, nodding. “I’m more of a swimmer myself. It’s the one thing that keeps me sane outside the OR.”

“Swimming, huh?” you ask, surprised. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a swimmer.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/N,” he says, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness.

“Maybe,” you admit, feeling a strange curiosity about him. “But I’m starting to think I’d like to find out.”

The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself genuinely enjoying the time with Jake. As you talk, you see different sides of him—his passion for his work, his dedication to his patients, and even a vulnerable side that he rarely shows.

When it’s time to head back to your respective departments, you feel a sense of connection that wasn’t there before. Maybe Jake Sim is more than just a distraction. Maybe he’s someone worth getting to know.

As you part ways, he gives you a warm smile. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

And so, a new routine begins. Coffee in the mornings, shared surgeries, and increasingly personal conversations. The barriers you once held up start to crumble, and you find yourself drawn to Jake in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

Weeks pass, and the connection between you grows stronger. One evening, after another successful surgery, Jake catches up to you in the hallway.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” you reply, curious.

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking a bit nervous for the first time. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. I’d like to take you out for dinner. No work, just us.”

You feel a flutter of surprise and anticipation. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you say?”

You consider for a moment, then nod. “Alright, Jake. Dinner sounds good.”

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile.

The evening of your date arrives, and you’re both excited and a bit nervous. You’ve chosen a smart but casual outfit, and after a final check in the mirror, you’re ready. Your heart flutters with anticipation as you hear the sound of a car pulling up outside your apartment.

When you open the door, Jake is standing there, looking effortlessly charming in a blazer and jeans. His eyes light up as he sees you, and he smiles warmly.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says with a grin. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you, Dr. Sim,” you reply with a smile, feeling a bit flustered. “You look pretty sharp yourself.”

He gestures to the car parked behind him. “Shall we?”

You nod and follow him down to the car. As you slide into the passenger seat, Jake starts the engine and glances over with a playful smile.

“So, are you ready for an evening of fine dining and even finer conversation?” he asks, his tone light and teasing.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it,” you reply, settling into the seat and feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity.

As he drives, the conversation flows easily. Jake talks about his day and a recent surgery he performed, and you share some anecdotes from your own work. The drive is filled with laughter and engaging conversation, making you feel more at ease.

When you arrive at the restaurant, Jake parks and opens the door for you, offering his hand to help you out. The restaurant is a cozy bistro with warm lighting and a relaxed atmosphere. Jake leads you inside and to your reserved table, which is positioned by a window with a view of the city lights.

“This place looks lovely,” you say as you take your seat, admiring the ambiance.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jake replies, settling into his chair across from you. “I thought it would be a nice spot for our first dinner out.”

The evening progresses with delightful conversation and delicious food. Jake is attentive and charming, making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. As you both talk about various topics, you find yourself opening up more than you expected.

At one point, Jake asks, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

You think for a moment, considering the question. “I’ve always wanted to take a cooking class. I love to cook, but I think it would be fun to learn some new techniques and recipes.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Jake says, nodding. “Maybe we could take a class together sometime. I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook Italian cuisine.”

You smile at the thought. “That could be fun. I’d be up for that.”

As the evening progresses, the conversation turns more personal. Jake shares stories about his family and his upbringing in Australia. He talks about the challenges of being far from home and the sacrifices he’s made for his career.

“It’s not always easy being so far away from my family,” Jake admits. “I miss them a lot, especially during the holidays.”

“I can imagine,” you say sympathetically. “My family is close by, and we have our own share of drama, but I’m grateful for their support.”

Jake nods, appreciating your understanding. “Family can be complicated, but it’s important to have that support system.”

You both continue to share personal stories and insights, finding common ground in your experiences. By the end of the evening, you feel a genuine connection with Jake, one that goes beyond professional respect.

When the check arrives, Jake insists on paying. “It’s my treat tonight,” he says with a smile. “Consider it a small thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you, Jake,” you reply, feeling touched by his gesture. “I really appreciate it.”

. The night air is crisp and refreshing, and the drive home is filled with easy conversation. When you arrive at your apartment, Jake parks and turns to you with a hopeful expression.

“I had a great time tonight,” he says softly. “I hope you did too.”

“I did,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you for such a lovely evening.”

you hesitate for a moment, then look at jake with a warm smile. “Would you like to come up? Maybe just hang out and talk some more?”

he considers the offer, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. “That sounds nice. I’d love to.”

He smiles and follows you up to your apartment. As you enter, the space feels even more welcoming with the soft lighting and cozy atmosphere. You both get comfortable on the couch with drinks, and the conversation continues to flow effortlessly.

You find yourselves talking about everything from past relationships to future aspirations. As the conversation flows, Jake starts to open up about his past relationships. “You know, I’ve had my fair share of relationships that didn’t work out. One of the biggest challenges was balancing the demands of work and personal life. It’s not easy to find someone who understands the hours and the emotional toll.”

“I get that,” you say sympathetically. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when your job takes up so much of your time and energy. My last relationship ended for similar reasons.”

Jake looks at you with genuine curiosity. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, reflecting on your past. “We were together for a few years, and it started out great. But as time went on, he couldn’t handle the unpredictability of my schedule and the stress of my job. We drifted apart, and eventually, we just grew in different directions.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jake says softly. “It’s never easy to end a relationship, especially when it’s someone you care about.”

“Thanks,” you reply. “It’s part of life, I guess. We both moved on and found our own paths.”

Jake nods, taking a sip of his wine. The easy conversation slows, a new, more, intimate silence settling between the two of you.

Jake shifts slightly, closing the gap between you. his eyes locked on yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and you suddenly felt very aware of your own. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

your heart raced as Jake leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. you responded eagerly, parting your lips to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. you could feel the heat building between you as you kissed, your bodies pressed together.

Jake's hands began to wander, tracing patterns on your back. you could feel his fingers brushing against the zipper of your dress, and you shivered with anticipation.

Jake pulled away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "May I?" he asked, his hand hovering over the zipper.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. Jake slowly unzipped the dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so. You felt a thrill run through your body as the dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing in just your matching black bra and panties.

Jake's eyes roamed over yourbody, taking in every inch of you. You could feel yourself growing wet as he looked at you, his desire obvious and reflecting your own.

Jake stepped closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch you. You could feel his fingers tracing the lace of your bra, you shivered with pleasure. He leaned in and began to kiss your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

a soft moan escapes as Jake's lips moved down your body, his hands following close behind. “you’re so fucking beautiful” He reached your breasts, his fingers tracing the outline of your nipples through the lace of your bra. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more. “been thinking about this since the first day I saw you”

Jake reached behind You and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your tits in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. You moaned as he touched you, your body responding to his touch.

Jake's mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. you could feel his breath against her skin, and she shivered with anticipation. “w-ant you” He reached for your panties, “relax baby I got you”, his fingers tracing the outline of your pussy through the fabric.

you gasp as Jake's fingers slip beneath your panties, his fingers exploring your folds. you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your body begging for more.

Jake pulled your panties down, his eyes locked on your pussy, “shit baby, you’re so wet f’me, such a pretty pussy” He leaned in and began to kiss your inner thighs, his lips igniting the heat pooling in your lower belly.

Jakes mouth moved lower, his lips brushing against your pussy. a loud moan leaves your lips as he began to lick at your entrance, your hand instinctively going between your legs to run your fingers through his black locks. “fuck, jake feels so fucking good don’t stop” he hums in response, the vibration going straight to your core.

he’s practically making out with your cunt licking and sucking, his saliva and your juices combined, making a mess on your couch, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. “fuck i’m c-cuming” your orgasm rapidly approaching. “yeah baby cum on my tongue, fuck can’t get enough of you, you taste so sweet”. at his words, your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body shaking with pleasure.

Jake stood up, his eyes locked on yours. you could see the desire in his eyes, and you knew what he wanted. you reached out and unbuttoned his pants, fingers brushing against his hard cock.

Jake stepped out of his pants, his hard cock springing free. while he wasn’t remarkably long, he definitely made up for it in girth. You reached out and wrapped your hand around it, stroking it gently. “ah shit baby” you could feel him growing harder in your hand, your excitement noticable.

he pushed you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. “condom?” he asked, stopping in his tracks before he gets too ahead of himself. “it’s fine, just put it in” you reach down between you two, taking hold of his length as you begin to guide his cock into your dripping heat. his cock twitches at the thought of feeling you with nothing in between, “fuck, are you sure?”, “yeah, m’on the pill, just fuck me already please” your walls clench around nothing, needing to feel him inside you more than anything.

without another word he slides in. the stinging sensation quickly turning into one of pleasure. your pussy gripping him tightly as he sets a pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “so fucking tight, pretty, you’re squeezing me so good. pussy was made for my cock mhm?” you can’t even find the words to reply, the pleasure all too much to even think straight.

“feels so good jake�� your words encourage him, his thrusts growing more quick, chasing his release as well as your own. the room is filled moans and the sloppy, wet sounds of his cock pounding into your hole. “s-so close, faster baby, want your cum inside me” you don’t have to tell him twice, his hips snapping into a pace that has you seeing stars.

“cum for me baby, cum on my cock” his hand reaches between you to rub your clit in quick circles, sending you over the edge “fuck! i’m cumming!” your release consumes you, his following not too long after.

he collapses next to you on the tiny couch, the both of you panting and out of breath as you come down from your high. “that was amazing” you turn your head to look at him, his eyes closed from pure euphoria he just experienced. “amazing is an understatement. it was fan fucking tastic” you let out a laugh at his pure honesty, a comfortable silence settling in the room.

he pulls you in by your waist, positioning you so your back is against his chest, a more comfortable position since your couch is definitely not meant for this. “i had a good time tonight” you can’t help the smile that grows on your face “me too”

as if the universe was against you, a beeping noise cuts through the silence, ending your moment. his pager was going off, they probably needed him back at the hospital, the realization of your jobs hitting you like a truck. “way to ruin the moment” he says getting up to check the pager “I gotta go, i’ll see you at work?” you smile at him nodding. he quickly gets dressed and presses a quick peck to your lips “get some rest” he tells you before rushing out the door to make his way to the hospital.

you can’t help but be a little disappointed. The obligation of your job was one of the many reasons you didn’t date, simply because it didn’t work. why did you expect this to be any different?

you drift off into a slumber, too tired to let your thoughts cloud your mind.

The next morning, the hospital is bustling with the usual chaos as you walk through the corridors towards your office. Despite the busy environment, your mind keeps drifting back to the night before with Jake. The memory of his touch, his kisses, and the intimate conversations you shared fills you with a warm, lingering sense of connection.

As you turn the corner, you see Jake standing near the nurses’ station, discussing a case with a colleague. He looks up and catches your eye, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. There’s a new glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before, a mixture of warmth and mischief.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/L/N,” Jake calls out, his tone playful and a bit louder than necessary, drawing the attention of nearby staff. “Did you sleep well?”

You feel a blush rising but manage to keep your composure. “Good morning, Dr. Sim. I did, thank you. And you?”

“didn’t sleep much, had a lot on my mind,” he replies, his grin widening as he walks over to you. “Must be the excellent company I had last night.”

Several nurses and doctors nearby glance over with curious expressions, but Jake seems unfazed. He stops just a bit too close, his presence commanding your attention. “I was hoping we might catch up over lunch. I’ve been craving some more of those conversations we had.”

You raise an eyebrow, fighting the smile that’s threatening to break through. “Is that so? Well, I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Jake chuckles, leaning in slightly. “You do that. In the meantime, if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “Or maybe I should say, you know where to call me.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his audacity. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Sim.”

He winks at you before stepping back, returning to his conversation with the colleague but not without a lingering glance over his shoulder.

Throughout the morning, you find yourself running into Jake more often than usual. Each time, he manages to throw in a playful comment or a flirty remark, making it clear that last night’s intimacy has only fueled his interest.

In the break room, you’re pouring a cup of coffee when Jake slips in beside you. “we meet again,” he says, his tone light. “I was just thinking about how good you look in scrubs.”

You roll your eyes but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement. “Really? I’m sure you say that to all the doctors.”

“Only the ones who make a lasting impression,” he replies smoothly, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

Later, while reviewing patient charts at your desk, you receive a text from Jake. It’s a picture of a heart drawn on a napkin, with a message: “Couldn’t help but think of you during rounds.”

You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face. It’s clear that Jake’s flirting isn’t just a passing fancy; there’s a genuine interest and warmth behind his actions that makes your heart skip a beat.

Weeks turn into months, and your relationship with Jake settles into a comfortable, intimate rhythm. Without any formal labels, your connection grows deeper, rooted in shared moments and unspoken understandings. Lunches in the cafeteria become a regular occurrence, interspersed with stolen glances across the OR and late-night encounters that leave you breathless and wanting more.

You find yourself looking forward to these moments, the thrill of sneaking around adding a layer of excitement. During shifts, Jake’s flirtatious comments become a highlight of your day.

One afternoon, you’re in the break room, reviewing patient charts when Jake walks in, his usual confident stride and easy smile making your heart skip a beat. He leans against the counter, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, beautiful. Busy?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Always,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.

Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You look like you could use a break. How about a coffee?”

You glance at the clock, knowing you have a few minutes to spare. “Sure, why not?”

As you walk to the “coffee shop” side by side, jake quickly takes a glance around to make sure no one is watching and pulls you into the on-call room, the tension between you palpable, you can’t help but feel the thrill of anticipation. The moment the door closes behind you, Jake’s hands are on your waist, pulling you close. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s both urgent and tender, a mix of passion and familiarity that leaves you breathless.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands roaming over your back.

“you pulled me away for this?” you let out a slight chuckle. “mhm want you so bad” his lips move down to your neck “jake we’re at work.”

your eyes shut closed, enjoying the feeling of his soft, plump lips on that sweet spot behind you ear that he always found instantly. “doors locked, no one’s coming in here” he mutters out.

you give in, your hands immediately going to his pants and undoing the tie on his scrub bottoms. “well in that case, I wanna suck your cock” you whispered, lowering down into your knees in front of him. Jake's eyes widened in surprise, but then he grinned.

"Fuck, yeah," he said, dropping his pants and boxers. His cock was hard and thick, the tip already glistening with precum, your heart pounding with excitement.

you reached out and wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it gently. Jake groaned and closed his eyes, his head thrown back. you leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock, tasting the salty precum. Jake's groan grew louder as you opened your mouth and took him in, lips sliding down his veiny shaft.

you started to suck, head bobbing up and down as youworked his cock. Jake's hands were in yoir hair, guiding you as you sucked him off. you could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, his balls tightening as he got closer to cumming.

"yeah, baby," Jake groaned, his hips thrusting forward as he fucked your mouth. "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

You moan around his cock, the sound vibrating through his shaft. You could feel his cock twitching in yourmouth, his balls tightening even more. you continued faster, fingers digging into his thighs as you worked him.

Jake's groans grew louder, his thrusts more urgent. you could feel his cock swelling, his precum flowing freely. you sucked harder, cheeks hollowing as your mouth got him to his release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jake groaned, his hips bucking as he came hard in your mouth. You swallowed, throat working as you took every drop of his cum. Jake's hands were in you hair, holding your head as he came, his hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your mouth.

When he was done, you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jake's cock was still hard, but it was starting to soften. You stood up, smiling at him.

"Did you like that?" you asked, voice soft and seductive. Jake grinned, his eyes still glazed with pleasure.

"I loved it," he said, pulling you into a kiss. "That was amazing."

As the weeks went on, you and Jake continued the little rhythm you had set in place. He flirted with you every chance he got. The both of you ending up in each others beds more often than not.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, you’re sitting in your apartment, staring blankly at the schedule in front of you. Your mind keeps drifting back to Jake—the way he looked at you during lunch, the warmth of his hand on your back as he guided you through the crowded cafeteria. The realization hits you like a tidal wave: you’re falling for him. Hard.

It terrifies you.

You’ve always prided yourself on being focused, dedicated, and in control of your emotions. But with Jake, everything feels different. The boundaries you set for yourself are blurring, and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications.

The demands of your job loom heavily over you. The long hours, the constant pressure, and the emotional toll of the medical field leave little room for anything else. As you stare at the schedule for the coming weeks, packed with surgeries and patient consultations, the reality sinks in: maintaining a relationship would be nearly impossible. The thought of trying to juggle your career and a growing emotional commitment to Jake feels overwhelming. After much soul-searching, you come to a difficult conclusion. It’s not fair to him or to yourself to continue something you can’t fully sustain. With a heavy heart, you decide it’s best to end things, believing that stepping back is the only way to preserve the little balance in your life.

The next day, you’re in the break room, trying to focus on patient charts when Jake walks in. He greets you with his usual easy smile, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Hey, what are you up to?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

“just charting, the usual,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the turmoil in your chest.

Jake walks over, his presence commanding your attention. “You wanna step away for a bit and grab lunch with me?”

You hesitate, the words on the tip of your tongue. You want to say yes, but the fear of what it might mean if you keep going down this path holds you back. “Actually, I have a lot to catch up on. Maybe another time.”

Jake’s brow furrows, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You force a smile, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with work.”

He doesn’t push, but you can see the worry in his eyes as he nods and leaves you to your charts.

Over the next few days, you start to pull back, keeping your interactions with Jake strictly professional. You avoid the on-call room, decline his offers for lunch, and keep your conversations short and to the point. It’s not easy, and you can see the confusion and hurt in his eyes every time you brush him off.

One evening, you’re leaving the hospital when you run into Jake in the parking lot. He’s leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression serious.

“Y/N, can we talk?” he asks, his voice a mix of frustration and concern.

You nod, knowing you can’t avoid this conversation forever. “Sure.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “No, Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About what we’re doing.”

Jake’s expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. “I’ve realized that I can’t keep up with a relationship right now. Our jobs are so demanding, and I’m constantly running on empty. I don’t think I can give you the attention and commitment you deserve.”

Jake’s expression shifts from confusion to hurt. “Y/N, I thought we were making this work. Why now? What changed?”

You struggle to keep your voice steady, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “It’s not about you. It’s about me and my inability to balance everything. I’ve been trying to make it work, but I can’t keep up with both my job and a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Jake’s eyes drop to the floor, and he takes a deep breath, trying to process what you’ve said. “So, this is it? You’re just… ending things? before they even started?”

You nod, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I think it’s best. I care about you a lot, but right now, I can’t handle more than what I’ve got.”

Jake remains silent for a moment, then looks back at you with a pained expression. “I get it, Y/N. If this is what you need, then I respect your decision. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You reach out, touching his arm gently. “I’m so sorry, Jake. This isn’t what I wanted, but I need to focus on my career right now. I hope you understand.”

He nods, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “Yeah, I understand. It doesn’t make it any less painful, but I get it.”

As you turn to leave, you feel a deep ache in your chest, knowing that you’ve made the right decision for yourself, but also feeling the weight of the loss. The break room seems colder now, and the empty space where Jake used to stand feels like a gaping hole in your heart.

Adjusting to life without Jake is more challenging than you anticipated. The hospital, once a place of shared glances and flirtatious banter, now feels strangely empty. The absence of his smile, his reassuring presence, and the warmth of his touch leaves a void that’s hard to ignore.

At work, you focus intently on your patients and your responsibilities, but the familiar routine feels different. The small moments that once brought you joy—a playful comment during a surgery, a quick coffee break together—are now replaced with an uncomfortable silence. Conversations with Jake are limited to work-related topics, and every interaction is laced with a professional distance that feels foreign and awkward.

In the OR, you work side by side, your focus on the patient and the procedure. Jake’s skill and calm demeanor are still impressive, and you find yourself appreciating his expertise even more now. But the casual camaraderie you once enjoyed is gone, replaced by a formality that feels both stifling and isolating.

During breaks, you find yourself missing the easy conversations you used to have with him. You used to share small victories and frustrations, but now those moments are spent in solitude or with other colleagues who don’t quite fill the gap Jake left behind.

Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you can’t help but feel the pangs of loneliness. Your personal life remains focused solely on work, and the connection you once had with Jake seems like a distant memory. You remind yourself why you made the decision, focusing on the demanding nature of your job and the need for balance.

Gradually, you begin to adjust, finding solace in the routine of your work and the support of your colleagues. The initial pain of Jake’s absence dulls over time, replaced by a newfound focus on your career and a deeper understanding of your own needs. Though the void remains, you learn to navigate your days with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication.

You’re passing through the hospital lobby, your mind preoccupied with patient charts, when you spot Jake standing near the information desk. He’s engaged in a conversation with Dr. Choi Miyeon, the oncology attending. Your steps slow involuntarily as you notice the easy laughter between them.

Jake’s smile is wide and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that once made your heart flutter. But today, the sight of that smile, directed at someone else, sends a pang of jealousy through you. Dr. Choi, with her poised demeanor and confident air, seems to be enjoying his attention, and the familiarity between them feels almost too intimate.

You try to focus on your task, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the two of them. Jake’s hand gestures animatedly as he talks, his face lighting up in a way that you haven’t seen directed at you in weeks. Dr. Choi’s laughter is soft and melodic, and she tilts her head slightly, clearly engaged in the conversation.

The sight of Jake looking so at ease with someone else brings an unexpected rush of emotion. You find yourself clenching your jaw, trying to ignore the gnawing sense of loss that accompanies the jealousy. It’s a reminder of the connection you once shared and the void left behind by your decision.

You force yourself to look away, turning back to your work with a renewed determination to focus on your patients. But the image of Jake’s smile and the easy rapport he shares with Dr. Choi lingers in your mind, leaving you with a mixture of regret and longing that’s hard to shake.

As you continue with your tasks, the memory of Jake’s interaction with Dr. Choi lingers, clouding your focus. Every time you glance up from your charts or interact with colleagues, your thoughts drift back to that moment in the lobby.

In the break room later that day, you catch sight of Jake entering, still visibly animated from his conversation with Dr. Choi. He looks up and sees you, his face lighting up with that same welcoming smile that used to be exclusively for you. The sight of it only intensifies the pang of jealousy you felt earlier.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake says, approaching you with his usual warmth.

“Hi, Jake,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You make a deliberate effort to maintain your professional composure, avoiding any mention of the earlier encounter.

Jake seems to sense a change in your demeanor but doesn’t press. Instead, he casually starts discussing the upcoming surgery, his tone light and engaging. You nod along, responding with the necessary professionalism, but your mind is elsewhere. You keep picturing him with Dr. Choi, the way they interacted so naturally, and it’s hard to ignore the twinge of regret.

As you wrap up the conversation and head to your next task, you can’t help but feel a deepening sense of frustration. The realization that you still care about Jake more than you initially admitted weighs heavily on you. The professional distance you’ve maintained seems more like a barrier than a solution, and the void he left behind is harder to ignore than you thought.

Later that evening, as you drive home, you replay the scene in your mind, questioning your decision. You wonder if stepping back from Jake was truly the right choice, or if you were merely trying to shield yourself from the possibility of a meaningful connection. The jealousy you felt is a clear sign of unresolved feelings, and it becomes evident that the emotional aftermath of ending things is more complex than you anticipated.

By the time you reach your apartment, you’re left grappling with the realization that you might have made a mistake. The lingering image of Jake’s smile, coupled with the undeniable ache in your chest, leaves you pondering whether there’s a way to reconcile your fears with the genuine affection you still feel for him.

But it would be utterly selfish of you to go running back to him when he’s seemingly started to move on. This was all your doing after all. He had every right to find what you couldn’t give him in someone else.

The ache in your chest refuses to fade. The image of Jake smiling at Dr. Choi replays in your mind like a loop, and the jealousy you felt transforms into a deeper, more introspective turmoil. You sit in your apartment, the stillness of the room amplifying the thoughts racing through your head.

You replay the conversations and moments you shared with Jake, recalling the comfort and joy he brought into your life. The connection you had felt real and profound, and now that it’s gone, the void seems more pronounced than you expected. The professional distance you’ve maintained does little to mitigate the lingering emotional impact, and the space between you feels even more significant.

The next day, you find yourself in the hospital, struggling to maintain the professional facade you’ve carefully constructed. Every interaction with Jake, though polite and necessary, feels strained and awkward. You avoid his gaze when you can, focusing solely on your patients and tasks, but the undercurrent of unresolved feelings remains.

During a particularly intense surgery, Jake is once again by your side, and the familiarity of working with him brings back a rush of memories. His presence, though professional, is comforting, and you find yourself drawn to him despite your earlier resolve. As you work together seamlessly, the shared glances and brief touches become almost impossible to ignore, reigniting a flicker of the intimacy you once had.

After the surgery, you’re in the on-call room, trying to catch your breath and clear your mind. Jake enters, a small smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, the professional barrier you’ve erected feels flimsy. He approaches you, his tone soft but playful.

“Everything okay, Y/N? You seem a bit distracted today.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. His concern and warmth are genuine, and it only adds to the confusion you’re feeling. “Just a lot on my mind,” you admit, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Jake’s eyes linger on you, a hint of frustration and worry evident. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

His words cut through the walls you’ve built, and for a moment, you allow yourself to consider what you’ve been missing. The idea of opening up to Jake, of sharing your fears and feelings, feels both daunting and inviting.

As the day goes on, you grapple with the decision to reach out to him. The barriers you’ve erected are crumbling, and you realize that avoiding Jake might not be the solution you hoped for. Instead, you begin to consider whether there’s a way to address your fears and find a balance between your demanding career and a meaningful relationship.

The thought of reaching out to Jake, of possibly reconciling your emotions with the connection you still feel, starts to take shape. It’s a daunting step, but one that feels increasingly necessary as you navigate the complexities of your feelings and the emptiness left by his absence.

The days following your realization feel like a mix of regret and self-reproach. You can’t ignore the growing sense of remorse over ending things with Jake. The emptiness left by his absence is more acute than you anticipated, and the thought of missing out on something meaningful drives you to act.

One evening, determined to make things right, you head to Jake’s apartment, hoping to talk things through. Your heart races as you reach his door, and you take a deep breath before knocking.

After a moment, the door opens, and your heart sinks when you see Dr. Choi Miyeon standing there. Her presence immediately sends a wave of jealousy and discomfort through you.

“Doctor Y/L/N?” Miyeon says, her tone a mix of surprise and curiosity.

You stand frozen for a moment, the sight of her at Jake’s door intensifying your doubts. “Doctor Choi,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

Miyeon’s expression shifts to one of mild confusion. “Did you need something?”

The thought of Jake being with Miyeon, combined with the realization that you’re intruding on what feels like an intimate moment, makes your decision for you. The hurt and uncertainty you’ve been feeling come to a head, and you realize you’re not ready to face him under these circumstances.

“I uh actually I’ll come at a better time”. Without another word, you turn and walk away from the door, your heart heavy with a mix of regret and frustration. You can hear Miyeon’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop. The realization that you’ve arrived at the wrong moment only deepens the sense of regret.

As you leave the building, the cool night air hits your face, offering a brief respite from the emotional storm you’re navigating. You’re left grappling with the decision to return, to try again, or to accept the possibility that you might have missed your chance. The weight of the encounter with Miyeon only adds to the complexity of your feelings, leaving you to ponder your next steps in the solitude of the evening.

The following days are a haze of frustration and introspection. Seeing Miyeon at Jake's apartment made you feel even more disconnected from him. At work, maintaining your professional facade becomes more difficult as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you.

One morning, you’re at your locker, preparing for your shift, when Olivia walks in, her usual cheerful demeanor tempered by concern. “Hey, Y/N, you okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You force a smile, trying to mask your turmoil. “Just a lot on my mind, Olivia. Thanks for asking.”

She nods sympathetically. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. We all have rough patches.”

You thank her and head to the OR, trying to push your thoughts aside. But every encounter with Jake is a reminder of what you’ve lost. You see him in the corridors, in meetings, and every interaction is laced with a painful awareness of the distance between you.

One afternoon, you’re in the middle of reviewing patient files when Jake approaches you. His expression is neutral, but there’s an underlying tension in his eyes. “Y/N, can we talk?”

You nod, setting your files aside. “Sure, what’s up?”

He leads you to a quieter corner of the hospital. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the other night. I saw you at my apartment, and then you just… left. What happened?”

You take a deep breath, the memory of that evening still fresh and painful. “I came to talk to you, to explain that I made a mistake in ending things. But when I saw Miyeon, I realized I couldn’t do it.”

Jake’s expression softens, a mix of understanding and frustration in his eyes. “Miyeon and I were just going over some research. There’s nothing between us, Y/N. But I get why you’d feel that way.”

The weight of your regret feels heavier now, knowing you misinterpreted the situation. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve been struggling with everything, and seeing you with her just… hurt. I felt like I’d already lost you.”

He steps closer, his voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t lost me, Y/N. I care about you. But we need to figure out what we’re doing here. This back and forth isn’t good for either of us.”

You nod, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I know. I’ve been scared, Jake. Scared that our jobs would make it impossible to have a real relationship. But I realize now that pushing you away was a mistake.”

Jake’s gaze softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand. “We can make this work if we both want it, Y/N. But we have to be honest with each other, and we have to be willing to try.”

You squeeze his hand, a sense of relief washing over you. “I do want to try, Jake. I want us to work.”

He smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Then let’s take it one step at a time. We’ll figure this out together.”

As you stand there, hand in hand, you feel a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead won’t be easy, but the thought of facing it with Jake by your side makes it seem possible. For the first time in weeks, you feel like you’re on the right path, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

The days following your night with Jake are a blend of professional decorum and personal confusion. You both agreed to take things one step at a time, but it's hard to ignore the magnetic pull between you. At work, Jake is as focused and brilliant as ever, but there’s an added layer of warmth in his interactions with you, a silent acknowledgment of what you share.

One afternoon, you find yourself in the break room, sipping coffee and going over department paperwork . Jake walks in, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of playfulness. "How’s your day going?"

You look up, trying to suppress a smile. "Busy as usual. Just finished a tricky valve replacement."

Jake nods, moving closer. "I heard. You did a great job."

You feel a flutter in your chest at his praise. "Thanks, Jake. How about you? Any groundbreaking surgeries today?"

He chuckles, leaning against the counter. "Just the usual brain stuff. Nothing too exciting." He pauses, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, dinner tonight? My place?"

You glance around to make sure no one is within earshot. "Are you asking me out, Dr. Sim?"

Jake’s grin widens. "Maybe I am, Dr. Y/L/N. What do you say?"

You pretend to ponder, then nod. "Alright. Dinner sounds good."

The evening arrives, and Jake picks you up from your house. He’s dressed casually but still looks incredibly handsome. The drive to his place is filled with light conversation and laughter, easing any lingering tension.

Once inside his apartment, you feel a sense of familiarity and comfort. Jake leads you to the living room, where he’s set up a cozy dinner with candles and soft music playing in the background.

"This looks amazing," you say, genuinely touched by the effort he’s put in.

Jake shrugs modestly. "I wanted to do something special."

The dinner is delicious, and the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about your families, past relationships, and the challenges of balancing demanding careers with personal lives. As the night progresses, you feel the barriers between you dissolving.

After dinner, you move to the couch, a glass of wine in hand. The atmosphere is relaxed, and there’s a growing sense of intimacy.

"Tell me more about your family," Jake says, his voice soft and curious.

You take a sip of wine, thinking about your parents and your brother. "Well, my parents are both retired now. My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a teacher. My older brother is a lawyer. We’re close, even if we don’t see each other often."

Jake listens intently, nodding. "Sounds like a solid family. Mine’s a bit scattered. Parents divorced when I was young, so I spent a lot of time between Australia and the States. I have a younger sister who’s an artist. She’s currently exploring Europe."

The conversation continues, each revelation bringing you closer. You talk about your past relationships, the heartbreaks and lessons learned. There’s a vulnerability in the exchange, a mutual understanding of the complexities of your lives.

As the night deepens, you find yourself leaning closer to Jake, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Y/N," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I really care about you. I want this to work, despite the challenges."

You feel a rush of emotions, the sincerity in his words touching you deeply. "I care about you too, Jake. I want us to work."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressing closer together. The desire that has been simmering between you ignites, and you find yourself losing track of time as you explore the depths of your connection.

You found yourself crossing the room to stand in front of him, heart pounding in your chest. You'd reached out, hesitantly, and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. And when he'd looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, you knew that you couldn't resist any longer.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate. He'd responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And as you kissed, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins.

You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes. "Jake," you whispered, voice husky with longing.

"Yeah, baby?" he'd replied, his voice low and rough.

And then you stripped, slowly and deliberately, letting him watch as you revealed her body to him. You’d seen the heat in his eyes as he'd taken in the sight of you, and you knew that you had him.

You moved closer, pressing your naked body against his clothed one. You reached down, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his hard cock, dropping to your knees, taking him into your mouth and sucking him deep.

He'd groaned, his hands tangling into your hair as you worked magic on him. “s-shit baby, taking me so good, that’s it” you sucked and licked and teased, driving him wild with pleasure. when you felt him on the brink, you pulled back, smiling up at him.

"Fuck me, Jake," you commanded, voice husky with desire.

He'd obeyed, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs wide and burying his face between them. You cried out as he licked and sucked your clit, bringing you to the brink of orgasm.

And then he entered you, driving deep and hard. Your wrapped her legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust as you made love. It had been passionate and intense, a connection that went beyond the physical and was different from the previous times you had indulged in each other’s bodies.

when you finally reached your peak, collapsing in a tangle of limbs, you knew that you made the right decision. You finally acted on your attraction, and in doing so, you found a deeper connection with Jake.

You both lie there, still engulfed in the bliss of this newfound feeling between the two of you. He can’t help what he says next, feeling as if keeping it in was impossible. “i love you Y/N”.

you snap your neck in his direction, maybe it’s the post orgasm haze but you search for reassurance anyways.

His big brown eyes confirming his words. “I love you too jake”.

The next morning, you wake up in Jake’s arms, the sunlight filtering through the curtains. He stirs beside you, his sleepy smile a welcome sight.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seems distant and unimportant. In this moment, you feel a sense of peace and certainty. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know you can face them together.

At the hospital, the dynamic between you and Jake shifts subtly but unmistakably. The stolen glances, the brief touches, the shared smiles—all are infused with a new depth of intimacy. Your colleagues notice, but no one comments, respecting the unspoken bond you share.

In the weeks that follow, the relationship deepens. You navigate the challenges of your demanding careers, finding solace and strength in each other. The on-call rooms become your private sanctuaries, the moments of stolen kisses and whispered confessions a lifeline in the chaos of the hospital.

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, you find Jake waiting for you in the parking lot. His presence, as always, is a balm to your weary soul.

"Hey, pretty" he says, pulling you into a hug. "How was your day?"

"Tough," you admit, resting your head against his chest. "But it's better now."

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Come on, let's go home."

As you drive back to his place, the city lights blurring into a comforting glow, you realize just how much Jake has come to mean to you. The fears and doubts that once plagued you have faded, replaced by a certainty that you can face anything as long as you're together.

Back at his apartment, you settle into a comfortable routine, cooking dinner together and sharing stories about your day. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and affectionate touches.

After dinner, you move to the couch, your bodies naturally gravitating towards each other. Jake pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on your hips as he looks into your eyes.

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I know we've had our challenges, but I want you to know that I'm all in. I want to be with you, no matter what."

Your heart swells with love and gratitude. "I feel the same way, Jake. I want us to be together, through everything."

He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. "Good. Because I can't imagine my life without you."

You lean in, capturing his lips in a slow, tender kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

As the night wears on, you find yourself reflecting on the journey you've been on together. From the initial tension and uncertainty to the deep, abiding love you now share, it's been a rollercoaster of emotions. But through it all, you've found something rare and precious: a connection that transcends the challenges of your demanding careers, a love that grows stronger with each passing day.

and as you fall asleep in Jake's arms, you know that whatever the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand.

taglist: @hyunjinheartbreakprince @jaehoonii @enhaslxt @sumzysworld @justalittle-hee @seunghancore @curiousgworge @blockbusterhee @ribbioniki @chocolate-scoups @ineedsomezzz @theonewithouttheuwus @rairaiblog @chansloverr @armycarat2612 @slutforjaeyun @lovingvoidgoatee @jjklvr9 @fertilizedtoesw @ikeuverse @yohanseyebrowmole @mysticalenchantress @hchoes @en-gine @jakesbbygirl @miszes @simpjay @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @vveebee

[anundyingfidelity]

FREE PASS — Sam Winchester

Summary: Two men appear at your office to inspect a body from a lady who died under mysterious conditions. As a forensic, you are not letting strangers inside the morgue, but one of them is going too far to get your permission.

Pairing: Undercover!Sam Winchester x female reader.

Word count: 1.6k.

Warnings: smut, office sex, against the wall sex lol, sexual tension, p in v, unprotected sex, the dirty stuff, Dean being a dick (i love him he's a jerk).

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

“I said no.”

“If you could just give a call to our boss he’ll–”

“Sorry, I need proper documentation so you can check that up,” you repeated yourself for the tenth time as you took some piles of documents from your desk to save them into the archive.

Dean, undercover along with Sam for this new case, sighed, trying not to lose it right there. You were so insistent on getting those damn documents signed before they could inspect the dead woman’s body, who got reported as having all her blood drained with no trace. Why wasn’t this working? They’ve done it hundreds of times already, and not even his personal charms were enough to let them get inside.

“So, my partner and I really need to see this. We know there’s another woman that died, same conditions, in less than twenty-four hours after this one was found,” Sam intervened and interrupted Dean’s thoughts.

You looked surprised as to why they knew about the other body as well.

“I don’t recall mentioning the next one they’re bringing in for an autopsy,” you replied, eyes falling on Sam as you crossed your arms on your chest.

Dean observed your gaze attentively falling on his brother, your demeanor seemed to change abruptly every time Sam talked. Even your voice sounded different.

“How do you know that?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s presence.

“We know because we’re authority,” Sam sternly said.

“Well, I am the authority here. So you can either leave or bring the document from your boss.”

“Of course, doctor,” Dean interrupted your stare contest, smiling as best as he could given the irritating feeling you just caused him. “We’re bringing that up soon, thank you for your time.”

With that, both of them left your office.

“Damn, she was annoying,” Dean said, saving up his badge on his jacket.

“Yeah, but I think I have an idea,” Sam agreed as they made their way to the car.

“So what? You’re gonna sleep with her until she agrees?” Dean chuckled, but when he noticed Sam’s eyes illuminating, he stopped grinning. “Oh…”

Sam went back to the morgue late at night. He hoped you were gone to inspect the bodies and get the reports, meanwhile Dean stayed back at the motel room to do some more research.

‘She’s a bitch’ Dean had said before his brother left, you really had hurted the charm in him. Sam found it kind of funny, though. Dean was so used to ladies swooning for him, and there were a couple of times those cheesy lines and non-chalant flirting had worked in tough times like this, but you weren’t buying it. So sneaking in was by far the best option he had.

Before starting the inspection on the bodies and making sure there was no one at the place, Sam made his way to your office to check on the autopsy files. The lights were still on but it was empty. He searched the last files, skimming and scanning information before taking pictures with his phone. He was almost done, saving them up in place when the door opened.

“Agent?”

God, he was so screwed.

Sam finished closing the drawer and turned back to get a look at you, standing at the door frame clearly mad at him.

“I hope you have the document I clearly asked for earlier today.”

“Uhm, this is very-”

“There’s nothing funny going on here, agent Harrison. Is that your real name anyway?” you asked as you approached him, until you were just mere inches away from each other.

He smiled as best as he could, ignoring your last question. Dean was right, you were a bitch. A bold one.

“You don’t understand, doctor. We can’t keep waiting for a piece of paper to make an inspection,” Sam replied as politely as he could.

“Probably, but it is protocol. I ain’t letting that slip away and risk my job just because two assholes are trying to hit on me to get access to the morgue.”

“We’re risking getting more people killed under this same pattern. Tell me, do you even care about them dying? We need to do something now, doctor, before it’s too late,” Sam started to raise his voice, but not to the point where he could sound angry. He was just being authoritative, exactly like you were with both of them before.

You flinched slightly when he raised his voice. He has started to think of the way you would react differently with him than with Dean. You clearly didn’t like his brother, but Sam was another story. Dean had obviously noticed that, and now Sam was seeing it too. Whatever you were feeling right now, could be cut by a sharp knife. Dean’s not so subtle idea was suddenly good, not that he didn’t think you were hot being all bossy and bitchy with them. He decided to give it a try.

Sam pulled you quickly for a desperate kiss. He swallowed a sweet moan of yours against his mouth, and towered you with his broad figure until you stepped back and you hit the cold wall behind you.

“What are you doing?” you asked between breaths when the kiss was over.

“Convincing you.”

He waited for an answer, but he got everything he needed to continue when you began to take off his jacket desperately, as if anyone could catch you inside the office in the middle of the night. Sam attacked your lips again, the kiss growing hot and wet as both explored your bodies, tracing patterns over your clothes you both were desiring to get rid of.

Sam barely could get your blouse unbuttoned and discharged your trousers after his shirt was gone. Your hand stroking his cock under his pants after unbuckling them, his lips sucking on the skin of your neck and long fingers finding your wet slit over your panties. You moaned, feeling one of his digits curling inside your walls, his breath hitching once your palm stroked him faster. You pulled him for a kiss, tangling your free hand on his long, soft hair as he grunted against your mouth. Both tasting each other’s sweet noises and savoring the heat building up in between.

He lifted you, your legs around his waist, feeling his hard cock pressing against your cunt. He just pulled your panties aside, bare chest pressing against your own still covered by your bra. He lined up with your entrance and you gasped, feeling the tip of his cock splitting you. He became so eager, so needy, he didn’t give a shit to undress you properly, he got what he needed between your legs. You looked so hot like this, squirming and moaning as he filled you up completely.

“God, you’re so big- oh, fuck!” you breathed out.

Sam grinned. “So fucking tight… And cockdrunk already.”

He slammed his hips and quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you right through it.

He held you tightly against the wall, your pussy taking him so perfectly he would just cum right there. The quietness of the office dissipated. Moans, grunts and the obscene noises of skin against skin filled the place. Your hand buried on his scalp, pulling his hair just a little, feeling embarrassedly close to your orgasm. You couldn’t help yourself. Ever since the moment they walked in, he caught your attention, and you spent the whole afternoon daydreaming of a good fuck either way.

Sam pounded harshly, hips stuttering and giving harsh thrusts as he felt his climax building up, his cock twitching when your walls began to spasm around his length, fucking you over and over, until he spilled inside you. Soon, you followed and came hard as his finger rubbed your clit slowly. You pulled his hair harshly once you reached heaven, and he nipped your neck, grunting on your skin. You milked him completely until his thrusts were slower, and eventually stopped, still buried balls deep inside your pussy, pulsing and sensitive from the best orgasm you had in a very long time.

You remained there, legs tangled around his waist as you softened on his arms. His hot cum dripped down your thighs, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.

When Sam cooled down from his high, he pulled out and helped you remain on your feet, your legs were still wobbly and he took some pride in your state. You shared an accomplice stare, and you knew you got yourself into some trouble.

“So… you still need my reports and check the bodies, right?”

Sam slammed an envelope on the table with a thud. Dean, looking away from the laptop, noticed a proud smirk on his brother’s face.

“Really? You banged the forensic?” he asked with a teasing voice and laughed. “Wow.”

“What?” Sam said, getting annoyed by his childish behavior.

“I knew she was eye-fucking you since we entered that office. Guess I wasn’t her type,” Dean got on his feet, taking the envelope. “Anyway, that is a pretty reasonable answer as to why she was acting so hostile with me, specifically. Good job, Sammy.”

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder proudly, like a father congratulating his son for winning a high school baseball game, and then walked away to lie on his bed, taking out the copy of the reports.

Sam would’ve liked for Dean to actually ask questions about the case, instead he spent the next hour or so teasing him for fucking his way to get access to a morgue. He took out his phone when a text came, ignoring Dean’s disgusting question of how sex was.

We have a new one. What the hell is going on?

He might have found a new ally on you for this.

Sam Winchester taglist:

@onlyangel-444 @feyresqueen @drasticemotions @stoneyggirl2 @whothefvckami

[lovebugism]

Okay maybe Eddie bought a silly couple costumes for himself and r (something cute with “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” and “I’m not wearing that.”) 🩷

ty for requesting lovie! happy fictober! ily! — eddie buys you a costume you don't feel pretty enough to wear and the gang crashes your cuddling session (hints of smut, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.5k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Your bare bodies stick together beneath a decade-old quilt. Eddie’s nice enough to let you use his lanky bicep as a makeshift pillow while you cuddle on the couch. His other hand hovers over your face, smoothing out the subtle furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb.

“What’s this face for, huh?” he singsongs into the heavy, golden, post-sex silence of the trailer. His smile is swollen and crooked and barely there. It’s a very hushed sunshine compared to your distant pout.

“‘Cause I still feel bad,” you confess, voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. Your feet knock with Eddie’s when your anxious legs entwine with his. “I made you miss that movie.”

“You didn’t make me miss shit,” Eddie laughs, assertive but not unkind. His warm palm spreads over your cheek. His chocolate eyes dance between both of yours. “I stayed in ‘cause I wanted to, alright? I wanted to spend time with you.”

“You called me a succubus,” you tease with a gentle giggle.

He had, though he doesn’t have much recollection of it. You looked far too pretty underneath him, and he’d been far too close to his orgasm. 

His hips rutted sloppily against yours, his rhythm gone totally stupid after feeling you gush around him. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” he babbled into the sticky skin of your neck, voice tighter and higher than usual. “You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, baby? Pussy’s so good… I’d fucking— I’d do anything you wanted me to— shit.”

His legs are still numb from the mind-blowing climax he had a moment later.

Eddie’s chuckle is louder and more boyish than yours. It fills the trailer with sunlight. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you are. Which means I’d much rather be here with you than at The Hawk with all those other schmucks.”

He kisses you to seal his promise — a chaste peck upon your smiling mouth. It’s beautifully innocuous compared to how good he was making you feel hardly more than five minutes ago.

“I know you don’t like those movies anyway, so…”

“That’s not true,” you argue with a very believable pout.

His gaze goes sympathetic. “Babe… You almost cried when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street the other day.”

“No, I didn’t!” You most certainly did.

“You said you weren’t gonna sleep ever again.”

“I like horror movies ‘cause you like horror movies, dummy.”

The term of endearment makes him grin. He likes it when you get all mean, though you never really mean it. “Is that so?” he lilts with raised brows that disappear behind his fuzzy bangs. The ends of the umber strands are damp with sweat.

You nod lazily against his arm. His fingers are starting to tingle with numbness, but he loves you too much to move.

“Mm-hmm. That’s how relationships work. Compromise. I tolerate horror movies, and you tolerate—”

“Your Harrison Ford obsession?”

You lose your firmness and get all sheepish. “Shut up…”

“I’m pretty sure they were showing Return of the Jedi in the theater over, right after Sleepaway Camp,” Eddie observes suddenly, brushing stray strands of your wild hair from your temple. “We coulda had a double feature tonight, but you wanted to stay in with little old me.”

“That’s ‘cause I love you a whole lot more than some guy I’ve never met.”

Eddie beams at your words. His eyes start to glitter like he’s won something, and his cheeks speckle pink with pride. He’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. He’ll never get tired of you loving him.

“I’m flattered,” he singsongs and means it.

You smile and lean in to kiss his grin. The boy gasps before you can. He springs up from the couch at a moment’s notice, climbing over you with naked limbs. He flashes you his bare ass just before he tugs on the crumbled pair of boxers left forgotten on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, eyes narrowed in curiosity and mouth quirked in amusement. You twist on the couch so you’re propped against the back of it. You clutch the heavy quilt to your naked chest.

“I forgot something,” Eddie mumbles, halfway to himself, then sends you a lighthearted glare over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”

You still, grinning softly at the boy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. You watch him while he rifles through a plastic bag beside the TV stand. “I got us something while I was at the Halloween store with Harrington earlier,” Eddie explains over the noisy crinkling sound.

“Oh, god…” you murmur.

Eddie laughs and looks at you over his shoulder again. “C’mon, babe. Have a little hope, would you?”

He returns to the couch with a smirk and something he hides behind his back. He grins like a kid when he reveals them to you — two packages of Star Wars themed costumes held in both his hands. 

Pictured on one is a guy who looks eerily like Han Solo — complete with the vest, blouse, and holster triad. The other is an uncanny Leia Organa in a skin-tight white suit, beige knee-high boots, and a flowing cape.

You blink at both of them, then at Eddie. 

“…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“Our Halloween costumes!” he exclaims with a beam. “See, I’m gonna be Han Solo— ‘cause I’m, you know, charming and sarcastic and handsome.”

“Don’t forget humble,” you joke with a lovesick grin.

“—And you will be my beautiful, hard-headed Leia Organa.”

You glance again at the package in his right hand, at the pretty woman on the cover. You know you won’t look nearly as good in the costume as she does. Your soft smile flickers. 

“Eds…” you mutter in a wavering lilt.

A frown forms between his bushy brows, similar to the one you’d been sporting earlier. “What?”

“I told you I wasn’t gonna dress up this year, remember?” you remind him, shifting awkwardly on the couch and clutching the blanket closer to yourself.

“But it’s Halloween, babe! Why wouldn’t you wear a costume?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you stammer out an excuse. “Because— I don’t know— I’m too… indecisive. Like, that’s a lot of pressure.”

“That’s why I picked for you!” Eddie grins, totally oblivious.

You laugh. It’s a bit cynical but not totally unkind. “I am not wearing that.”

He pouts, like a child or a hurt puppy. “But why not?” he wonders with a crestfallen inflection.

Again, you stammer. “Because— I mean— Just look at her, Eds!” you gesture to the package he holds with a significant focus to the girl on the front. “I don’t look like her!”

He grows from sad to confused. His brows pinch as he tilts his head to the side. His wild curls tickle his bare, pale shoulder. “Oh… kay?” he mutters, trying his best to understand you but not getting it completely.

You huff. Your chest stings as you explain it all to him.

“I’m… I’m not gonna look like the girl on the cover. You know that, right? I’m not— I’m not Princess Leia kind beautiful, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, seemingly agreeing with you and smiling all over again. “You’re a you kind beautiful. That’s what makes you so damn sexy.”

He leans down over you with the intention to kiss you. 

Still pouting and inwardly aching, you pull back from him.

“Eddie…” you murmur, still gentle but obviously sadder.

He concedes with a small sigh. The couch cushions dip with his weight when he sits down beside you. He leaves the packages abandoned on the other side of him and gives you his full attention. 

“Look… You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, alright? We can stay in for Halloween for all I care. I just… I think it’d be a lot of fun, you know?” the boy rambles with a seriousness that’s typically foreign to him. His palm smooths across your knee over the thick quilt. His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “And I think you’d look… very pretty as my Princess Leia.”

His chocolate eyes twinkle with an undeniable sincerity. It makes your chest feel so warm it burns.

“Yeah?” you mumble, not quite believing him but wanting him to hear him say it anyway.

“Totally,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. He presses a lingering peck to your lips, then melts when he tastes leftover sex upon them. 

A switch flips within him then. His belly twists, and his eyelids get all heavy. His smirk is weighed down by lust as he pulls back from you and shrugs. “I think I could show you better than I could tell you, actually…”

Across the living room, the door busts open. 

Sunlight explodes throughout the dim trailer, making the two of you squint. 

Steve enters first, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival. “Phone’s off the hook,” he observes, pointing to the telephone lying face up on the table beside the front door. 

Eddie had two fingers inside you, and the thing just wouldn’t stop ringing. He grumbled in annoyance when he had to part from you to hang it up.

Steve puts the thing back on the hook while Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle walk in behind him.

Mortified, you watch with wide eyes as your uninvited friends file in. Your grip tightens around the blanket. You use one hand to make sure every inch of your naked body is covered with it.

Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by it as you are. Instead, he huffs in annoyance and spreads his arms along the back of the couch. They were the ones barging in, after all. If they had a problem with his pale, lanky figure and his thin, plaid boxers, then that was on them.

“Oh. Come in,” he hums, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “Make yourselves at home.”

Robin’s got a thousand-year stare in her eye and a blue, red, and purple mouth. “Can I use your bathroom?” she wavers, voice strained. Her fists are clenched beneath her baggy flannel. They tremble beside her baggier jeans.

“Uh, yeah. Knock yourself out.”

She’s already rushing down the hall before he can get the words out.

The two of you watch her leave and then turn to Steve. He’s an expert in all things Robin Buckley nowadays. He shrugs and tells you, “She had, like, four slurpees while we were waiting on you guys at The Hawk.”

You shift awkwardly like you’re getting scolded. Eddie only laughs.

As all the gang settles around the trailer — Jonathan on the recliner, Nancy on the arm of it, and Steve sitting on the adjacent table — Argyle is the only one without a place to sit. He idles beside the couch, smiling at you with rosy lips and rosier eyes.

“How are you doing today, amigo?” he wonders with a curt nod, as mellow as ever.

You smile up at the boy, not nearly as fazed by the bright style and long raven hair as you used to be. Actually, you’ve grown quite fond of his slurred jokes that don’t really have a punchline because halfway through, he realizes he’s forgotten it entirely.

“Good,” you respond, crossing your arms over the quilt you’ve got bunched at your chest. “You?”

“I’m peachy, brochacho,” he nods back at you. He grins, but the bright expression is weighed down by the weed. The skunky smell entwines with his musky cologne, creating a deep earthy scene that’s much more bearable than the weed alone.

“Not that I’m not thrilled you guys showed up—” Eddie starts with an inflection that would imply otherwise, wide eyes flitting around the room. “—But what the hell are you doing here?”

“You’d know if you answered the phone,” Steve retorts with a scrunched nose, flipping through a random car magazine. The Beemer on the front matches the sunshine yellow of his sweatshirt.

“Well, I was a little busy, Harrington—”

You nudge Eddie before he can finish the stupid joke. Everyone could already hear it anyhow — “I was a little busy, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 

He shoots you an innocently confused look. You give him a half-hearted glare in return.

“You guys flaked on movie night, so we brought the movies to you,” Nancy singsongs with a sweet, pink smile.

Jonathan unrolls the folded-up paper bag between his feet. The flimsy cardboard crackles loudly as he rifles through it. He pulls out a number of unblanketed VHS tapes with handwritten stickers glued to the front of them. 

“Uh… We got Sleepaway Camp, obviously,” the Byers boy mutters in his usual Byers way. He waves the tape in his hand and sits it off to the side. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more. “Twilight Zone and, uh, Return of the Jedi.”

Eddie is as grateful as he is confused. Movie night wasn’t totally gone, and both of your movies had been seemingly carrier-pigeoned to his trailer, but neither should be out on VHS yet. “How…?” the boy trails off with pinched-together brows.

Argyle answers. “Let’s just say I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” he smirks, then swirls his features in puzzlement. It looks like he’s trying to do math in his head. “…Who knows a guy.”

“I can pop some popcorn if you guys wanna, you know, make yourselves decent,” Steve teases with a feigned maliciousness as he hops off the square table. The old thing squeaks under his weight.

Eddie’s retort doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Right. My bad, Stevie. It’s not like you totally barged in on us or anything.”

You shake your head at their bickering, though you’re still smiling quietly to yourself. Eddie shields you while you rise from the couch. You wear the heavy quilt like a dress as you shuffle down the hallway to his bedroom. The thing trails behind you as you go.

“Sorry about them, sweetheart,” Eddie apologizes as soon as the door clicks closed. 

He’d wanted to say something earlier, but kept his mouth shut instead of making it a bigger deal. He knew you were bound to be embarrassed — because you almost always tend to be, anyway. He didn’t want to draw attention to the situation, or least of all to you, and make it that much worse.

“’S okay,” you shrug and drop the blanket on the carpet. 

Eddie tries not to go all teenage boy at the sight of your naked body, but he nearly loses his mind when you bend over to pick up one of his t-shirts from the floor. 

“We did sorta flake on them,” you reason as you tug the cotton over your head. The baggy fabric falls over you like rain.

Eddie shakes his head, mostly at himself. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.

“Only you would blame yourself when those assholes walked in on us,” he laughs, walking the short distance to you and wrapping you in his arms from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You smell like flowers, sex, and his cologne. 

“You’re too sweet for your own good, baby. No wonder those schmucks won’t leave us alone.”

Robin’s voice seemingly comes from within the walls — ‘cause the bathroom is only one room over, and the walls are especially thin. “Rude!” she grouses, voice muffled. “I mean, it’s true, but still.”

[mxacegrey]

Poor Cisco! We've traumatised him! But we got Harry!!

⚡ I'm Yours

I’m Yours: Harry is yours for the night… or is it the other way around? It seems that their scheming friend’s plan has worked, and you cannot keep your hands off each other, or keep your clothes on for that matter. Locked in heated passion, you let Harry have his way with you, disregarding your insecurities for that night. The question is, will you get your cupcake at the end of a very long night beneath the sheets?

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Scenes (Unprotected Sex is a No No).

To Note: Harry Wells x Female!Reader, Reader Has Extreme Anxiety & Long Hair For Plot Reasons.

Word Count: ~7.6k

He's Mine | Masterlist

Your calves hit the end of Harry’s bed and you found yourself tumbling backwards onto the mattress, your hands reaching behind you to soften your abrupt fall. Before you had a chance to push yourself back to your feet, Harry was dipping down, caging you in as his sinful mouth brushed against yours once more, tugging at your lips and brushing his tongue against yours. Somewhere in the mess of your rabid kissing and wandering hands, you had shoved the blazer off his shoulders and flung it into the depths of the room, then uncoordinatedly unbuttoned at least half the buttons on his white shirt. The shirt might not have come off, but the flashes of his sculpted chest you occasionally got were well worth the partial effort.

Harry had your mind spinning like a hurricane, chaotic, fast, and hungry. Not once did you have a chance to take a small breather and allow for your brain to catch up with your body and the incredible sensations the man was pulling from it with mere kisses and light touches. Already he had shattered your perception of what it was like to be intimate with a man, and up against a wall, nearly fully clothed no less. For a man who spent most of his time in front of a whiteboard, or tinkering with a piece of machinery too complex for you to understand, he knew his way around a woman’s body.

Harry pulled away, and you felt him gently take your right leg, pulling it up as he ran his fingers down the fishnet hosiery. Your eyes connected as his fingers reached the heel you wore, and with bated breath, you watched as he pulled the monstrosity from your foot, releasing it from the pain you had been torturing it with for the last five hours. The heel was dropped onto the floor and promptly forgotten as Harry moved onto your left leg, doing the same with your remaining heel. How in the hell could he make an action such as taking off your heels seem so sensuous and intimate?

“Your going to kill me if you go any slower, Harry,” You whispered out, your fingers fisting the bedding. He gave you a sly grin. Keeping that smile on his lips, he prowled back up so he was leaning back over you.

“Haven’t you ever heard of patience?” Harry asked, cocking his head to the side. “I’d like to enjoy slowly stripping you out of your clothes. I can feel you flush with every inch of skin I expose.”

Said flush burned across your cheeks as you bit down on your lip, stiffling the whimper that wanted to come crawling out of your mouth and make you look even more a mess than you already were. Your inner thighs were still wet from your last orgasm, and zero effort had been put into cleaning up. At this point, the fishnet tights probably needed to be hand washed considering how wet you felt down there, and you had a feeling that if they didn’t come off, they’d only get wetter.

“So get to it then, I’m not getting any younger, and neither are you,” You huffed out, pouting your lower lip slightly in an exaggerated move. His eyebrow twitched before he bent down and trailed his nose down your cleavage. Feeling his breath against your chest was almost euphoric itself, just barely a kiss of his hot lips against the chilled skin of your chest.

Moaning slightly, your head dropped back slightly as you unconsciously thrust your chest into his face, needing more heat and butterfly kisses. His mouth brushed away from your skin upon reaching the drooping neckline of your short dress, and a few seconds later you felt his fingers pushing the hem of the dress up.

“Y/N,” Harry called softly, and with a groan of arousal from his fingers lightly brushing against your upper thigh, you raised your head back up to look at him. His sharp blue eyes burned into yours. “Take your eyes off me and I stop.”

Your eyes widened a fraction of an inch as he smiled deviously at you. Oh, oh god, was he serious? With that look, you think he was. A shiver ran up your spine. How could he be so divinely sinful and giving, yet be so cruel at the same time? Oh wait, this is Harry Wells, of course he’s got a teasing, yet controlling side to him.

“That’s just cruel,” You sighed out. His only response was his signature smirk as his fingers dug underneath the elastic band of fishnet hosiery on your right leg. Harry began pulling the fishnet down your thigh at a slow, torturous pace. A pace you were beginning to see that he liked using.

With every slow inch of skin that was revealed, Harry ran his nose over the revealed skin, occasionally planting kisses or ever so briefly sucking the skin into his mouth. Your nostrils flared as your red fingernails dug into the bedsheets, and you kept your eyes steady on his messy black hair. Well, steady for now, every inch of skin he touch made your eyes waver ever so slightly.

His touch now had your leg shaking slightly from the delicate touches and the little zings of pleasure that burst from the places Harry’s mouth landed on. When his fingers brushed the underside of your knee, your leg physically jerked in place and a small whimper managed to escape from your lips.

The worst part was you could feel Harry’s smirk against your skin, and you could swear that the man got off just by teasing you like this. Clamping down on your lip, you breathed heavily through your nose as the stocking was pulled free of your foot, Harry’s hand gently holding your leg as he kissed your thigh a few times.

“Have I told you that I love the way you smell?” Harry questioned, his lips moving against your skin and once again making a shiver run up your spine. “You always manage to smell like vanilla, and it drives me crazy.”

“It’s just my body wash and lotion…” You mumbled out as he finally lowered your leg and trailed his fingers back up to work on your left leg.

“That doesn’t make you any less intoxicating,” He responded, running his nose down your leg and planting a few stray kisses on the delicate flesh of your inner thigh as he went. The fishnet was removed and within seconds Harry was climbing back up, his mouth back on yours with heavy, open kisses.

Letting out a moan into his mouth, your fingers reached up and buried themselves into his hair. Your body once again felt like it was on fire and needed every touch he had to give. Pulling away, you gasped for air while Harry decided to switch direction, moving back towards your legs as his hands wrapped around your hips. You had a pretty good idea what he was planning on, and the very thought made heat and electricity run through your body. Your fingers remained buried in his hair as the short skirt of your dress was pushed up to your navel.

Cool air hit your naked lower body, making your wet inner thighs more apparent, and a shudder ran up your spine this time. Harry didn’t dive right in like you expected him to. Instead his mouth landed on the tender skin of your thigh and he started sucking. You bit down on your lip, a soft, yet strained grunt leaving your mouth as intense pleasure radiated from where his mouth worked magic. Clearly your body wasn’t used to this type of touch. Harry had you in a quivering mess before his mouth even reached its intended destination, and at this point, you wondered how you were ever going to last. No man had ever gone to this length just to explore your body.

The moment Harry flicked his tongue through your folds, your hips were jerking underneath his hands and a squeak of surprise left your lips at the foreign feeling. Your initial reaction to that one action had Harry pushing down on your hips and dragging your body further into his mouth as his tongue went to work. You couldn’t help the lewd sounds that tumbled out of your mouth, nor the wiggling and twitching your body did underneath him. Your neck burned from strain as your chin dropped back and your fingers dug further into Harry’s dark hair, seeking purchase of any kind. Wiggling against his hold, you panted and cursed underneath your breath at how pliant and reactive your body was being to his touch.

“Harry,” You whimpered as your walls started twitching in pleasure, coming undone from his wicked lashing. Just when you thought he couldn’t be any more torturous, he was. Your eyes rolled back and you arched off the bed as he slipped a finger inside your quivering body and brushed against your already hyper sensitive walls. “Fuck, Harry—damn it, I can’t—“

He let out a pleased sound as words and curses tumbled out of your mouth, and you struggled even more underneath his ironclad grip. Your walls finally clenched around his finger as the fire in your belly burned red hot, and with a sharp cry you found yourself locked in your second orgasm of the night.

Holy shit, Harry Wells was lethal.

Your thighs shook in his hold and your fingers went slack in his hair as your body went limp and lightheadedness hit you. No one had ever managed to pull two orgasms out of your body in one night, let alone one… or make you feel like your entire body was floating. Panting heavily for breath, you lie limp, sprawled out on the bed, every inch of your body trembling in the aftershocks of pleasure. While you stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath, Harry crawled up and hovered over you, that little smirk on his lips and his electric blue eyes sparkling.

“Still with me, babe?” He asked as he held his body up with one hand and used the other to stroke your cheek. All you could manage to get out at this point was a moan in reply. Your legs were jello, your body trembled, and your mind was mush.

Harry chuckled at your voiced reply before leaning down and pressing a steamy, open-mouthed kiss against your jaw. You let out a big sigh at the delicate yet passionate kisses he continually pressed against your skin. You were floating in heaven, and you doubt you would come down for hours.

“I suppose with age comes experience?” You asked, finally finding your voice once more. “Because I have never had more than one orgasm and right now, I feel like a tub of jello. Jiggly, yet delicious.”

“I can agree with that,” Harry replied, smiling against your jaw line. “You are quite delicious and the fact that you feel like jello means I’ve done my job.”

“And there he is… God, you are so full of yourself,” You complained, your right hand reaching up and planting itself on his cheek.

“I don’t hear you complaining about it.” He teased back, planting a light kiss on your nose before pulling back just enough so you could look in each other’s eyes.

“That’s because I’m too smitten with you to care.” Rather than smirk triumphantly at your words, his lips curved into a genuine smile, complete with his adorable dimples that were rarely shown. “But I would appreciate getting the luxury of looking at those muscles of yours you hide underneath your black sweater.”

“That I can do,” Harry said before leaning back on his shins. You propped yourself up on your still slightly shaking arms, watching in rapt attention as his long and nimble fingers deftly undid the pearl white buttons on his dress shirt.

The first look you had at his chest had your jaw dropping slightly open, and then some as he rolled his shoulders, pulling the white garment off his arms, tossing it to the side like it was a mere scrap of cloth. Good lord Almighty, just his arms were drool worthy, but them combined with a toned chest? Someone spritz you with water before you combust or catch of fire!

“You would look incredibly sexy being spritzed, you know,” Harry purred mid mind monologue. Your eyes widened.

“Did I say that out loud?” You whispered, mortification blooming on your face like a rose in the sun. He chuckled at you before scooting back and stepping off the bed. Propping yourself fully up, your dress sliding back down your body, you watched as he reached for his dress pants, which remained unbuttoned. In a quick second, he had his pants off and those too got tossed to the floor.

“I’m slightly disappointed that you don’t mutter your thoughts more often, Y/N/N,” He said as he pushed his underwear down, revealing the erection he currently had, and—and dear lord that had been in your body? Your cheeks flushed for the hundredth time as heat pooled in your stomach. Stop it Y/N, stop staring at it and look up, you told yourself. You forced yourself to drag your eyes back up to his, which were shining with mischief.

“Like what you see?” Harry questioned, his eyebrow raised expectantly while you pushed down the simmering heat you could feel on your cheeks. Your fingers curled into the bedsheets beneath your fingers.

“Quite so,” You whispered, your eyes trying their hardest to stay connected with his. Harry was soon crawling back on the bed, nearing where you had shifted yourself to kneel on the sheets. With your eyes still connected, you felt his hands brush against your naked hips before gathering the hem of your slinky sliver dress.

When he started pulling the itchy fabric up your body, his knuckles grazing your ribcage as he did so, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and let out a soft sigh of relief. As the rhinestone fabric was dragged up your arms, Harrison leaned forwards and connected your lips once more.

The dress was pulled free from your hands and discarded, promptly forgotten, as you both got lost in a sensuous kiss that had your mouths moving against each other in a slow dance of their own. Harry’s lips tugged yours, pulling soft mewls from your body as you draped one arm over his shoulder to wrap around neck and slipped the other under his glorious arm to grip his back.

Harry had the same thoughts as you did, wrapping himself around your body and tugging you flush against him. Your breasts pressed against his muscled chest and you couldn’t help but groan from the heat his skin was giving off and tried to flatten as much of your body as you could against his.

That involved scooting forwards, slipping your legs around his and pressing your cunt against his ‘spritz me with water I’m going to burst into flames’ worthy erection. Arousal shot through your body at the mere touch, and Harry let out a few hungry grunts.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Harry questioned against your lips. Pulling your mouth away from his and leaving only minimal space between them, your eyelashes fluttered at Harry. “Because I was going to give you time to recover, but you of all people should know I am not a patient man.”

One of his hands, which originally rested on your back, slid down to grasp your ass and dig his fingers into the flesh. A shiver went up your back from his touch and you couldn’t help the small moan that tumbled out of your lips. Harry took this as an initiative to thrust his hips upwards against your body, grinding against your throbbing cunt and making you drop your head back with a drawn-out groan. You couldn’t help but move your own hips, pressing yourself against him, trying to create as much friction as you could get. Your noses brushed against each other and your lips just barely touched, filling your head with lightheadedness at the shared oxygen.

Breathing heavily, you turned your head and moved your right hand to the back of his head, stretching back up to press your lips back against his in a tender, light kiss. You found yourself consumed by the very feel of his lips just barely brushing against yours, his breath on your skin, and the taste of whatever scotch he had been drinking an hour ago mixed with the taste of your arousal.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four—

The reverie of being cradled in his arms was broken as Harry let out a small growl against your lips. His patience had run out and classic Harry Wells style, he hoisted your body off his and was quickly flattening your body back against the sheets, your legs awkwardly slipping from their kneeling position.

Harry’s mouth was on your neck, sucking and licking you skin, surely marking it up more than it already was. Letting out a few gasps, your trembling mouth stayed open as you drew in oxygen and tried not to dig your fingernails into his back. You could feel his teeth bite at your skin, which brought little zips of pain, and then pleasure as he soothed the area with his tongue. Biting at your swollen, sensitive lip, you tried your hardest not to wiggle and writhe underneath his hold.

“Harry,” You complained, moving your hands to run your fingers across his hip bones in an effort to elicit some sort of pleasure from him. His hands quickly snapped up and removed your hands from his body, pressing them into the mattress. Your eyes met, lust in his, blazing annoyance in yours. You wanted your hands on him, and he wouldn’t let you.

“What part of ‘I’d like to have my way with you and your incredible body’, did you not understand, Y/N/N?” Harry questioned in a commanding tone. Your eyes flashed at him as you let a growl of your own.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Harrison, let me touch you!” With a disgruntled snort, you wrenched your hands up and wrapped your legs around his torso before forcing you both into a roll. You had caught Harry by surprise, which is what let you roll him in the first place, and the moment your knees steadied your moving bodies and his brain caught up to the fact that you were straddling him, his eyes darkened a shade. You leaned down so your faces were only centimeters apart, your hair hanging around your shoulders in sparkling waves. “My turn.”

Smiling in satisfaction as he groaned from you wiggling your hips down his body so you had access to his delicious chest, you brought your face down and ran your nose over his neck. Heat radiated from his skin and warmed your already flushed face, and that only incited you to press your lips down against his chest and drag them along taught skin.

A tortured moan reached your ears, making you grin against Harry’s hot skin, and your grin only deepened when his hands landed on your hips and his fingers dug into your flesh. This was both payback and exploration. Perfect. Your tongue darted out and liked a line across his collarbone, almost instantly you felt his hips slightly jerk underneath you and his erection bump your soaked cunt.

“Y/N…” Harry groaned as you continued your torturous trail down his chest, your tongue finding each and every grove he had as you crawled down his body. Naturally, his hands couldn’t stay clutching your hips, so he opted to bury one of his hands into your wild mane.

Sighing at the feeling of his fingers brushing across your scalp, you reached his defined v and brushed your lips over his skin before lifting your head just slightly to look at Harry with a devious smirk. He grunted as you placed your hands on his thighs and slowly slid them higher, your smirk growing.

“Oh you little fiend,” He growled down at you while you let out a small giggle.

“I’ve had quite a few vivid dreams about you, Harry.” You cooed up at him before diving in. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and wasting no time, you ran your tongue from your hand to the tip.

Harry inhaled sharply, and you knew you had him hooked. With a gentle and teasing touch, you moved your hand up and down while you placed a few more licks, swirling your tongue around the tip and pre-cum leaking out. And when you completely wrapped your mouth around him, he let out a stressed groan that was music to your ears.

Bobbing your head, you teased and twirled your tongue across him, enjoying the way Harry shuddered underneath your light touches and licks. Harry’s quiet grunts and moans were intoxicating to your ears and had you pushing him deeper into you mouth, almost to the point of gagging.

His grip on your hair tightened, telling you exactly what he was feeling and fueling your endeavor to cause as much pleasure as he had caused you. It wasn’t hard. His cock got stiffer with every pass of your hand and bob of your head, and you could feel his muscles strain as he tried not to thrust his hips up.

Trying to hold out, was he? You thought. We’ll see about that…

You switch tactics from slow, sensuous, and teasing to faster, more pressure, and hungry. You were ravenous for this man, and you wanted him to know that. Fast-paced, friction building, and hot. Even you were getting turned on by working Harry over like the millions of times you had dreamed about it.

Harry was twitching in your grasp, and just when you thought you could pull an orgasm out of him, he yanked harder on your hair and bucking you off him. With an angry squeak, you lifted your head and glared at Harry.

“Seriously?” You growled at him, your scowl deep on your face and your mouth wet from working him over. “I almost had you right where I wanted!”

Harry didn’t say anything, choosing to slip his hands underneath your arms and drag you up his body before rolling back over so you were, sadly, once again the bottom.

“Harry!” You exclaimed, trying to wiggle in his grip. Harry dropped his body on top of yours, successfully pinning your squirming body to the mattress as he dipped down and planted his lips on yours, his tongue delving in to swipe across yours. Your protests melted into smothered moans as he kissed the fight out of your body, and he didn’t stop until you were gasping for breath underneath him.

Pulling away, Harry’s eyes gleamed down at you, a dark and dangerous glint in them. You panted for oxygen as your stinging lips trembled. You were half gob smacked by the sheer possessiveness he displayed in that kiss, and half wondering what was currently running through his mind.

“You might have had me where you wanted, but I plan on only cumming when I am so deep inside you, the only sounds you’ll be making are strangled gasps and whines while your nails dig so hard into my back you’ll leave marks.”

Your eyes went wide.

Holy hell, the audacity he had to say that, and the stupid audacity of your own little mind for finding that a complete and total turn on. All you could think in this moment was that possessive Harry was by far the hottest Harry you had encountered. A thought hit you.

“You’re going to go three for three, aren’t you,” You whispered, heat filling your cheeks at the thought of three orgasms in one night, one session. Would you even be able to handle that? Your body shuddered and trembled at the thought.

“I told you I was going to worship you, and I keep my word.” Harry said huskily, his voice still strained from the unfinished blow job he so rudely interrupted. Entirely his fault. You shuddered again, slightly scared that your body wouldn’t even be able to keep up with that and you would just flat out pass out. “As you so eloquently put it, I’ve fucked you, and eaten you out to the point of making your legs lax. That just leaves one more job on my hands.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you stared up into his eyes, feeling him run his erection against your wet folds teasingly, and after what felt like an eternity, since Harry was a teasing bastard sometimes, he pushed into your aching cunt. Your hips twitched underneath him with every inch he pushed in, and your only thoughts were of how full you felt, and how overwhelmingly good he felt.

“And what’s that final job?” You queried breathlessly, your eyes staring up into his as your curiosity burned bright in yous. Harry brought his face down to you and brushed his lips against yours, making a small whimper bubble up from your throat at the sensation before traveling to your ear.

“Will you let me make love to you?” He asked softly in your ear. Letting out a small gasp at his words, you actually had to think those words over in your head. To fuck was one thing, pure carnal energy mixed with a need for pleasure and will to receive it at any hand willing, that was one night stand material, no strings attached… but to make love?

That was opening up your body and bearing your soul to him. If you did that, he could very well slash at your heart and ruin it forever if he so desired, and you knew that if that happened, you would be destroyed. But if he didn’t, and he remained the man you so desperately thought he was, he would form an impenetrable shield around your already guarded heart, and would protect you from your own insecurities like he had tonight.

Withdrawing your left hand from his back, you slowly reached up and slid your fingers into his messy hair, loving the way it felt against your fingers. Taking a deep breath, you turned your head ever so slightly, so your eyes once again connected.

“Make love to me, Harrison Wells.” You breathed out, your fingers curling into his hair. “I’m tired of being alone.”

“You aren’t,” He objected. “Not anymore, and never with me.”

With those final admissions, Harry cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. Only this time it felt a thousand times more meaningful, more passionate, more… everything. There was nothing sexual about it, and you found that you could sink into the eternal abyss that was Harry Wells and never surface again.

Lips moving against each other in unison, zero effort or thinking required, it was just pure unadulterated love transcending into physical energy between two people who had skirted each other long enough. You were brought back to the now as Harry shifted his hips ever so slightly, and reminding you that the man was very much all the way in your body. Your legs curled around his waist as he started thrusting, and his mouth migrated from your mouth to your jaw, working over hot skin with his hotter mouth.

Groaning softly, your head pushed back into the mattress while electricity prickled across your skin and fire was kindled in your belly. The man was a god; you were convinced, and even more so as he pulled soft cries of pleasure and pleas from your mouth. Harry detached his mouth from yours and dragged his lips over the colored skin of your chest to finally land on the delicate skin of your breasts. Hot air blew on your skin as mind numbing kisses were planted and your skin prickled with goosebumps in delight.

Just when you thought his mouth couldn’t get anymore intense, he drew your right nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip. Your body caved against his, twitching in his grasp as your already hypersensitive nerves fired one after another in succinct fashion, giving you no chance to recover from the last.

A guttural whine came from your throat as you raked your fingers through Harry’s messy locks and your lungs seized in your chest. You momentarily struggled to draw in air. His actions had you lightheaded, seeing stars, and gasping for more. Locking your heels together to press your bodies as close as possible, your hand that was wrapped in his hair pushed his face further against your chest, begging for more, even though you already struggled to keep up with his actions.

Fusion of desire had you practically melting into his embrace, and when his calloused hands worked from hours of tinkering with his high-tech creations detached from your cheeks and ran down your body, you couldn’t help but shiver and moan. His fingertips skimmed over your ribcage, and with one hand sliding around to your back, the other flattened out against your remaining breast, cupping it, teasing it, and massaging it like it was the most glorious thing he had ever held in his hand.

Harry’s hips started to snap harder against yours and the soft panting and moans elicited from your lips grew in volume, Harry’s own grunting and panting joining yours in the dark, quiet room. The build up of molten pleasure in your veins was slow this time, slow so in fact that you barely registered it until your entire body burned in a fiery inferno set on reducing you to a shriveled mess of bone and ash. Hand and mouth soon left your breasts, leaving you mewling for more. You didn’t have to wait long. His hands were everywhere as he sped up to a speed you had not experienced before.

“Harry!” You cried out, your hand leaving his hair to rake against his back, an overwhelming flood of intoxicating arousal and need tearing through your body like a tornado. Your eyes squeezed shut, wanting the coil of tightly bound nerves to just break already.

“Don’t you dare,” Harry growled, his hand landing on the side of your face. You tore your eyes open with a grunt and stared up into his passion filled bright blue eyes. “I want to see the look in your eyes when I cum in you.”

You were about to respond when he hit a spot that left you in a wordless scream, writhing in his grasp, bucking your hipbones against his in a clashing manner, and clawing at his back to the point where you knew it could look like someone had attacked him. But you didn’t care. You were lost in the reverie of pleasure, the sounds of panting, grunting, and cries mixing together. One more fast-paced thrust and your mouth was gaping open as Harry finally came, hot liquid filling you and leaving you gasping for breath, staring wide eyed up at him. How could he still keep going after that?

“Har—“ You wheezed on his name, not getting his full name out. “Har— Harry—please,” You begged, the sensations and electricity running through my body becoming to much. “I can’t. I can’t give you one more. There’s no way.”

“One. More.” Harry said quietly, commanding, unrelenting in his conquest to devour every inch of your body. “You can do it, baby, give it to me.”

Choking on a sob filled cry of pleasure, you dug your fingernails as hard as you could into his back as it all just became far too much. Bright light flickered at the edges of your vision, adjoined by stars, and you were falling.

Fingers were gently brushing through your sweaty, yet somehow still sparkling locks, ever so slightly massaging your scalp while doing so. Cracking your eyes open, your tired eyes were greeted with Harry’s bright blue eyes peering down at you.

“Harry?” Your voiced rasped out, confusion rattling through your brain along with exhaustion and sleepiness. “What happened?”

He chuckled lightly at you, his fingers moving to brush against your forehead.

“You passed out for a few seconds.” Harry answered, his fingertips moving down your cheek and along your jawline. “Can’t say I’ve ever caused a woman to pass out from pleasure so I guess I can add that to my personal achievements.”

“Don’t you dare, Harrison Wells,” You groaned at him. “My alcohol fueled sexcapades do not need to be broadcasted to the world and certainly not to our friends.”

“Wasn’t planning on it anyway,” He responded before shifting onto his side and pulling your body along with him, pressing his front up to your back and wrapping his arms around your still trembling body. “You’re mine and mine alone.”

“Mmh, better stay that way,” You mumbled, sighing in his arms and closing your eyes as a blanket was pulled up over your bodies.

“Always,” Harry murmured in your ear, his face nuzzling your shoulder. Another sigh passed your lips while you placed an arm over the one wrapped around your waist. There was only one thought circulating through your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice it in a whisper.

“Please don’t break me when I wake up.”

Sunlight pushed through the thin horizontal windows high above the sleek walls of Harry’s converted bedroom. Your eyelids fluttered as you shifted and the light grazed your closed eyelids, jarring your senses to the point where you were wrinkling your nose. Twisting your body so you were on your stomach, you nuzzled your face further into the pillow with a heavy, drawn-out sigh.

Your head ached with a subtle hangover, your mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, and your body felt like you had run yourself through Oliver’s training circuit back in Star city.

“Morning,” A gravelly voice said, making your eyes fly open and your hand push you up. Head whiplashing to your left, you saw Harry’s sleep filled face near yours. Panic started creeping into your body.

What had you done?

But before your panic could grow, you felt one of his hands slide across your bare back, dipping just below the sheet that covered your lower body, and felt his fingers skim over your ass. A half startled squeak left your mouth as your hair tumbled over your marked shoulders and your face heated up.

“Don’t let your mind wander, Y/N/N,” Harry voiced, his blue eyes opening and peering into your wide ones. “You are exactly where you should be right now, and I don’t plan on getting up any time soon. Stay put.”

“But Harry, we’re not even together,” You whispered, clutching your left arm against your chest as if covering your breasts would make a different at this point.

“Humph, don’t care,” He sounded out before pulling your body against his chest, which you now noticed had a few marks of its own. Apparently drunk you was territorial, that was new… and somewhat mortifying at the same time. Harry squished you up against his body and you felt heat reach your ears as you felt every inch of him against your own. “I am still hungry for you, and after last night I highly doubt I could ever get enough.”

Now you could feel your entire body burning as you looked up at him underneath your eyelashes. There was no anger, indifference, disgust, or a look that said ‘get lost’ in his eyes. Only softness, gentleness, and… was that love?

“I hope I made my intentions clear,” Harry continued, leaning his forehead down to press against yours. “Because I don’t ever want to let you go. It was hard enough getting you here.”

“So what does that make this?” You questioned, reaching up with a light hand and tracing your finger across his toned chest. “What does that make… us?”

“Whatever you are comfortable with,” He replied, nuzzling his nose against yours before just barely ghosting his lips across your own. “I’ve messed up a lot with my other relationships, with Jesse, with the other Wells, but this isn’t one I want to chance screwing up. You don’t have to be alone anymore, not with me, and not with Jesse.”

Your mind worked over his words, and the gravity they had on you, and your future life. He was offering a place by his side, a spot you could always run to no matter what emotional state you were in. He would be there.

“Harry?” You asked, your lips brushing against his as his fingers stroked up and down your spine, the pads tracing every ridge and dip of your protruding vertebrae.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t share,” You stated. A second went by and you felt his lips curve into a smile against your own as he gave your body a slight squeeze with his arms.

“Duly noted,” Harry responded, his lips moving once more to brush against your forehead. “And considering the night you had, I suggest catching a few more hours of sleep, or at least resting.”

“I’m down for that.” You answered, snuggling into his chest with a sigh of content. Rest you did, snuggled closely against Harry’s sinful body you couldn’t believe was now yours. Harry was a furnace, and as someone who typically had a harder time keeping warm at night, you were in heaven.

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you had initially woken up, but over the course of snuggling with Harry, you had found that he was a very handsy cuddler and enjoyed having you tucked right up against his side. It was where you belonged, he had said, and you weren’t in any mood to disagree with that statement.

So now that you were more awake, you were just enjoying being in his arms and surrounded by his warmth while he danced his fingers across your back and shoulders.

“If I hadn’t kissed you, what would you have done with that bleach blonde harpy?” You asked, voicing the question that had been circulating in your brain or the last half hour. “I still can’t believe she stole my damn cupcake… The compete nerve!”

“Your kiss may have been unexpected, but it wasn’t unwanted,” Harry rumbled, his fingers teasingly stroking their way down the arm you had resting on his chest. “And if I will be honest, I probably would have claimed that you were my girlfriend, wife even…”

“Eh, not really a claim now, is it?” You muttered quietly, thinking about how skanky and ill dressed that woman had been. Did she even have a shred of decency to at least make sure she didn’t look like she was trying to become a real life barbie doll?

Harry chuckled at you in agreement before pressing a kiss to your hair.

“In all honesty, the moment I saw you standing by the bar, looking at me with those beautiful eyes of yours, that was all I could think about for the rest of the night. The way you looked in the low light, your shoulders practically bare, and just how much I wanted for those red lips to be on mine.”

“Your eyes are prettier,” You grumbled with a huff. “I like how bright they are, I could stare at them for hours.”

“I wouldn’t object to that, but I highly doubt I’d get any work done if I knew you were staring at me.” You giggled softly at the image that came to mind. Grumpy Harry in his black sweatshirt, hair messy, tool in hand, scowling at you while you unabashedly stared at him, entranced in his electric gaze.

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” You sighed dramatically, accentuating your drawn-out sigh and acting like it was the worst thing in the world. “How could I possibly distract the great Harrison Wells from his beloved work?”

Harry laughed before nuzzling into your neck and planting a kiss.

“As beautifully dramatic as you are being right now, I called in a favor before we left the nightclub and I think you might want it.” You perked up at the mention of Harry calling in a favor, which he never did in the first place, and couldn’t help the curiosity that flooded into your veins.

“Really?” You questioned as Harry extracted himself from your arms and reached over to the nightstand behind him. You sat up, holding up the sheets to just barely cover your breasts. Your curiosity was sated when Harry turned back around, a pink frosted cupcake in hand.

“Oh dear lord,” The words left your lips before you even realized it and your mouth started watering. The cupcake you had been pining after for at least half an hour last night sat in his palm, at the ready to be devoured by yours truly. Harry’s lips twitched into a light smirk as he offered the cupcake to you.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch that devastated look on your face when that plastic, blonde-haired twit stole yours.” Harry explained, a twinkle in his eye. Your fingers itched to snatch the cupcake from his hands and shove the entire thing into your mouth like the pig you were when it came to confections. Harry gently handed the cupcake off to you, making sure not to touch the perfect frosting.

“How did you get this?” You questioned, looking at the cupcake in your fingers, and then back up to him. “I mean, I was with you all night…”

“Let’s just say we might have scarred Cisco a little when he breached the cupcake into the room.” Harry grinned at you, enjoying the fact that the poor engineer had probably realized exactly what you two had been doing last night.  You both still had the tracking brackets on and after you had ditched the group, you wouldn’t put it past your friends pulling up your location.

Exactly what was the expression on their faces when they realized your dots were on top of each other? You cringed at the thought, but at least you had the cupcake, and it needed eating.

Lifting the cupcake to your mouth, you pushed the cupcake liner down with your thumb before taking a bite, cake, frosting, and all. Prosecco frosting and lemon cake hit your tongue, and the moan tumbling out of your mouth was down right pornographic.

“Oh god you are perfect,” You sighed out as you leaned down and delicately licked at a bit of frosting that had gotten on your fingers, your tongue darting out from your stained red lips and lapping up the sweet confectionary mixture.

You went in for another bite and groaned some more as the delicate flavor of the Prosecco complimented the lemon cake perfectly. Now you weren’t normally a noisy person when it came to sweets, but when they were the only sound in the room and Harry had gone completely quiet, you couldn’t help but tear your eyes from the little pink creation to look at him.

He had gone ridged, his eyes staring straight into yours with that look on his face that never quite allowed you to figure out what he was thinking. Well, you think you can see hunger in his eyes, so perhaps you should offer him a bite. It was an absolutely delicious cupcake after all…

“What a taste?” You asked, holding out the cupcake and tilting your head to the side. Harry blinked at you before shaking his head and muttering something you didn’t catch underneath his breath. “Harry?”

“The cupcake is for you, Y/N,” Harry finally spoke up, his voice slightly strained. “I know how much you love them, and how much you wanted to have that cupcake all to yourself.”

Not the answer you were expecting, considering all the dirty thoughts you now knew flowed through his mind. Well, if he didn’t want a taste because he wanted you to have it all by myself, you were going to have to take matters into your own hands.

Glancing down at the cupcake, you ran your tongue across your lower lip before looking back up at Harry and deliberately smashing the cupcake into your chest. Shock filled his eyes, his jaw clicked, and the muscles in his neck bulged.

Gotcha. You were probably going to regret this later, but the look on his face was well worth it.

His eyes darkened as you pushed the cupcake along your chest, smearing the luscious pink frosting along your hickey marked skin. Not once during that moment did his eyes leave yours, lust and hunger filling electric blue.

“Oops,” Pulling the ruined cupcake from your chest, you looked down at the naked cake part. You had smeared most of the remaining frosting on your skin. All that remained was cake, and you weren’t interested in it anymore, not with Harry looking at you like that, so you tossed it over your shoulder, smiling in satisfaction as you heard it plop to the floor.

Lifting your hand, you flicked your finger across the pink substance coating your skin and stuck your finger in your mouth, giving it a teasing lick. Harry’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes watching your every movement.

“Clumsy me,” You whispered, pulling your finger from your mouth and giving it a few extra licks for good measure.

He was on you faster than Cisco was on Big Belly Burger, and while you giggled, he started licking every molecule of sugar off your chest.

Date Published: No Idea

Last Edit: 7/14/23

He's Mine | Masterlist

[xxsycamore]

╰┈➤ When you discover a mysterious hole in a restroom inside the Crown castle, you're ready to catch the ill-doers of whatever forbidden exchange is taking place and take them straight to Victor. Little do you know, your curiosity would lead you to give more and more of yourself to that ridiculous cause, night after night. And you might just end up enjoying it.

— William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Ellis, Jude, Roger, Victor x f!Reader

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Glory Hole; Anonymous Sex; Corruption; Hand Jobs; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Come Eating; Come Swallowing; Deepthroating; Masturbation; Dirty Thoughts; Smoking; Objectification; Overstimulation; Penis Size; Multiple Orgasms; Ruined Orgasms; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Size Difference; Large Cock; Creampie; Breast Fucking; Dirty Talk; Squirting/Vaginal Ejaculation • wordcount:  5,836 • masterlist

a/n: I've had this idea for a while now and here it is, finally. One of the longest smuts I've written and definitely one that I'm proud of. Enjoy!

⏮ ⏯ ⏭ NIN - The Wretched

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 2: Glory Holes

NINE NIGHTS. 

Among the many things you've been warned about when you first started living at the castle, you couldn't help but be curious the most about one thing. That infamous communal restroom located at the very end of the left wing's top-floor corridor. Remoted and basically isolated from the lively parts of the castle, if it weren't for the obscene rumor Alfons shared with you, you might not have discovered such a place exists at all. Actually, you're still not convinced if it truly exists. It's all too much like the hedonistic bastard to mess with your head like that.

That's why you're on a mission to do a little investigation on your own.

Arriving at the dimly lit location, your anticipation is flattened by the lack of anything obscure to be found. The restroom hardly differs from the ones you've seen around the place: well-maintained and designed accordingly to match the elegant style of the castle. One side is for the ladies, the other for the gentlemen; two different entrances, a wall separating them right in the middle.

You don't know why you even bother going as far as peeking an eye inside the stalls, but nothing appears to be amiss there as well.

Apart from one thing.

You nearly missed it in the sparse light, but the cut-out hole in the wooden wall inside the second stall stands starkly against the otherwise well-polished surface of it.

Suddenly it all clicks, and you remember Alfons' words.

"Rumor has it that around eleven in the evening, people go there to partake in rather... scandalous exchanges. Both parties are provided with anonymity and everything that takes place inside the restroom stays there. We might be a modest group of inhibitors here, little Robin, but everyone has their needs. We don't judge which part of the partition you choose to be on."

This has to be about drugs! As outrageous as it is, it perfectly explains the hole - large enough to serve for the purpose of one such "exchange", the wooden wall in-between separating provider and client.

You chose to linger around here just early enough to be able to leave without witnessing what does - or does not - happen in the established hour, and just close enough to it in case if, for some reason, you'd want to stay and find out for yourself. This means you can perfectly well remain waiting in the stall, catch the culprit red-handed, and take him straight to Victor. You're sure he knows nothing of this, it can't be otherwise.

1.

You don't have to dwell in your thoughts for much longer, because in the perfectly tranquil air around you, you're able to pick up the soft noise of the door opening on the other side. Readily, you prepare to grab hold of whatever is inserted through the hole and see if your hunch is correct.

Little do you know, the sight will make you reconsider at once. You blink your eyes several times when you look down.

It takes you everything not to scream, barely being fast enough to clasp a hand around your own mouth, as soon as you realize what you're looking at.

Whoever is on the other side of the restroom is currently giving access to a certain part of themselves, and by the way it stands erect and demanding attention, you can imagine just one possible scenario of what the person on your side of the partition is expected to do with it.

The breath hitches in your throat. Will you be found out if you were to exit right now? Even if you won't be seen, even if anyone else could have been here, in your place…

A very dangerous thought fills your head, and you know listening to it should be the last thing you do. Still, for the sake of getting to the bottom of this and not disrupting any of it just yet, you start to think it might not be that bad if you just…

Hesitantly, your hand reaches out until your fingertips can almost graze the very tip of the cock in front of you. Eyes falling closed for a second, nine different faces flash through your mind. Nine possibilities. It's as if this changes everything between you and the mysterious man on the other side, when in reality it changes nothing at all. You think back to your fellow Crownmates, as if trying to see if the thought of any of them pushes you away, but to no avail.

You might have lost your mind. Fingers slowly curling around the hot flesh in front of you, the initial contact is far easier than you thought. You start pumping the hardness in your fist right away, noting the way it slightly swells in your hand, despite already seeming quite aroused.

The slight tremble of your fingers is perhaps a welcomed side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through your system, as the cock in your hand is very receptive to your actions. You wonder to yourself if the person on the other side is used to this sort of thing. Or maybe it's his first time here too, his curiosity getting the better of him. Just like you, in a way. However, he's clearly being able to get off on that thrill. It must be contagious because you become bolder with your movements and your eyes are no longer shy to the sight in front of you. It's embarassing not to be able to take your eyes away, but you can't help it - there's something so fine about it; the size and shape of it, the saturated pink color of the glossy tip, the small bud of precum threatening to spill over with excitement on the next enthusiastic throb…

In just a couple more strokes, the object of your admiration closes the spectacle with a rather grandiose final act… The vigorous spurts of its culmination leave a milky-white trail down the crevices of your fingers as you marvel at the sheer amount he came.

Giving him one last base-to-top stoke, nice and slowly, you catch yourself being so captivated by the obscure display that you're almost disappointed when it all ends and you snap back to reality.

Time to splash some cold water on your face.

2.

The sound of a grandfather clock announcing eleven in the evening is coming from afar but you still hear it without mistake. You've found yourself in this cursed place again, albeit with hesitation. Going back to the events of last night leaves you with mixed feelings. For one, you swear you're being fooled with. Is this Alfons' sick idea of having fun? Luring you to some shady place, provoking you to commit unspeakable acts… You bet there are no other parties even involved in this to begin with. Who knows what the hole really is for, but to use it the way he did… it truly takes an unhinged imagination, you have to admit. Now you just have to find him back at the scene of the crime - God knows they always come back - and this time you won't be so generous. It's not exactly a plan that you have but you'll do something, anything.

Still, you can't help but notice there was something off about last night's mysterious visitor. He didn't quite strike you to be anything like Alfons. Not that you want to spend too much time thinking about what he's supposed to be like down there, or the specific mannerisms you can tell him by, or…

Suddenly there's movement and you hold your breath in anticipation as you prepare to look down.

This is…definitely not the same cock.

This can't be.

Without thinking much, you grab a hold of the sizeable appendage as if to explore it more. Maybe the limited light is playing tricks on you.

Your thumb grazes a slightly protruding vein on the side, something you might have missed yesterday, or you might have not. Though the visual difference is becoming less and less the more you overthink it, the feeling of it in your warm palm is notably different. You don't even know how you get on your knees, but you try to make the most of the new angle.

The stranger, whoever he might be, seems to enjoy the way you're fooling around, much to your own surprise. Almost as if he wants to encourage you to explore more, to do whatever you want. Soon enough it becomes awkward to just examine him like that when he's probably here to feel pleasure. Even in your stubbornness to recognize him as the man from last night, you start stroking and massaging the girth in your closed fist. Stimulating the sensitive skin on the head makes it pulse so tantalizingly, and running the fingertip of your other thumb down the protruding vein almost tips him over the edge…You don't mind this reaction. What's more, you pretty much want to finish what you started.

Unexpectedly, the length of the stranger's cock retracts almost completely back inside the hole with just its head sticking out. The sturdy repetitive motion indicates that the man is taking care of himself while still giving you access to the product of his upcoming climax.

What does he want you to do with his cum? Does he want to paint your open palms white, or maybe if he could say so, he would prefer to color your lips white with his come?

The moment he finishes with what seems to be a glorious orgasm, your sticky fingertip has almost made it to your mouth in a rush of curiosity. You have no idea what's the use of doing something like this when he won't even be able to see it.

During your haze, you think you see a painted glossy red fingernail as you watch the cock of the stranger disappear.

You must be imagining things.

3.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

You guess that the third time is saved for the shameless.

This is exactly what you are, as you find yourself kneeling on the cool tiles on another late night. The initial shock of finding yet another unfamiliar piece of flesh left at your disposal is washed away by the growing sense of thrill that you're starting to get familiar with, more with each passing night. Combined with just a little bit of "since you're already here".

You wonder how fast can you make this one cum. All this time and you're yet to use your mouth, maybe now is a good chance to try it.

Thankfully the other side knows nothing of the fever rising up to your cheeks. Not feeling eyes on you helps you be bolder with your actions, and you feel like an absolute tease. Once you pop the well-formed head in your mouth, your tongue shows no mercy to the painfully erect cock.

A few agonizing slow licks across the length of it seem to be the last straw for the stranger. But not in the sense you're expecting.

In a flash, your mouth is left to hang open and empty; like a lollipop's been taken away from you. A cold shiver runs through you. Did you go too far? Was it not to his liking?

You're not yet fully seated back on your knees in confusion before he gives you a "second chance". Almost as if you're starved, you hurry to take him in again, saliva overflowing from the corner of your mouth and lubricating him for some earnest bobbing of your head. You're going to pleasure him properly this time.

Except, this leads to the same result.

The pause is shorter now, and you get the impression that he's toying with you. Does he want you to please him, or does he not? Which one is the truth?

You fall for his tricks time and time again, because you just can't help it. Awaiting for him to stick his cock back into the hole is rather humiliating but each time your mouth salivates more with the eagerness to welcome him deep inside. He only stills when he's noticeably on the verge of orgasm, and you take him as deep as he lets you. You're a bit tense at this point - should he snap his hips and thrust further in, you're likely to choke on him.

Drinking down on every last drop of his come, you don't know why you're so relieved that his last gesture was not a lie. You just know that you're left to yourself once again. And the whole ordeal has made you horny.

4.

Another day passes in your busy life as a fairytale keeper.

Most of the missions you're assigned are fast-paced enough to keep you fully occupied; senses being constantly put to the test, mind projecting gruesome pictures you've seen through the day and turning them into words at the end of it, once you sit in front of your typewriter.

Yet there are those little pockets of time when the world slows down for you and your fellow Crown members. Traveling from location to location; gathering in the foyer waiting for Victor… It's easy to zone out.

Your gaze moves from Liam's pretty lips curling in a small laughter as he conversates with Harrison, to Harrison stretching out while he listens; to Elbert's tall frame as he looks out the window next to them, to Alfons staring at him, putting one leg over the other as he stirs the steamy liquid in his cup. Which ones? Which ones of them have visited that place? You have very little to go off of. Someone's hand enters your field of vision. Delicate, long fingers drumming against a hard surface. You dart your gaze to another. Roughened palms. And another. Concealed by dark gloves.

Skin textures. Shoe sizes. Limbs stretching out.

It's not until someone asks you if you're alright - "You've been terribly quiet all this time!" - that you shake off your inappropriate thoughts and scold yourself for having them in the first place.

The next time you find yourself in the stall, you're almost glad to give head to someone who's clearly cutting to the chase. There's not much shuffling or repositioning from the other side of the partition, and you're able to focus on the weight in your mouth.

Tonight's stranger is no less well-endowed but you'd say he's a little more on the thicker side compared to your previous experiences. Accidentally grazing him with your teeth makes you hear an annoyed single stomp of a shoe against the floor tiles on the other side. This only motivates you to do better, and you truly do your best sucking him off.

Your ears pick up something different this time. This quick striking noise reminds you of a match being lit… Even with the task you're focused on, your senses remain sharp, and you swear you can smell cigarette smoke.

Here you are, sucking off some guy while he treats himself to a smoke. Things can't get any cruder from this point on.

But you don't mind it at all. This is of mutual interest for both parties, that's only fair. So you don't think much of it your hand makes its way down south, searching underneath layers of clothing until it finds aching hot flesh, begging to be pleasured.

Getting off to your scandalous adventures has been common practice for you the last few days, but it definitely feels better to claim your pleasure here, at the core moment of it.

The closer you get to your own orgasm, the faster your head moves back and forth. All it takes to send you over the edge is the feeling of hot cum being disposed in your welcoming mouth, and you join him by coming there on the floor, unknown to the stranger.

He loses no time removing his spent cock. You can hear the grinding of a heel as he stamps out his cigarette. And he's gone.

Now you're left to wonder why it feels so good to be used by someone on their smoke break.

5.

Tonight sees you crossing yet another boundary.

Things are going on in a less formulaic fashion, with no hurry at all, and it's not that you're not enjoying it- quite the opposite - but you can't help being curious about something. How bad would it be if you were to gain just a little bit of pleasure for yourself from all of this? Surely you won't be found out if you were to share another piece of yourself with the stranger on the other side different from your mouth and your hands. You're far from the thought that some of the female staff don't know about this place. So you don't hesitate positioning yourself upright and facing the wall, close enough that your body is pressed against it.

You don't ask for much, just to feel that delicious hardness against your swollen folds. The very first contact shoots sparks of pure ecstasy through you. The angry-red tip of the man's cock graces against your clit and you nearly mewl out in pleasure. So you do that again, until you're practically grinding yourself on it like a tool conveniently left for your pleasure.

You'd feel selfish and guilty about this if it weren't for the fact that your actions are getting the stranger off as well. You've already slicked him up with your saliva thoroughly, given him attention which has been enough for others to reach their peak. This one seems to have a rather high endurance, but interestingly no other method of play gets him going the same way as you pleasuring yourself on him. Is this what he wants? You're afraid you're not able to stop now, at least not until you cum. Which happens all too soon, with your legs shaking from overstimulation as the cock underneath you remains swollen and upright and poking your folds again and again while you try to catch your breath.

And then he cums. Just like that, without assistance from your side… Or maybe it's your pleasure that did it for him? This is a strange one, for sure… But you like him.

6.

The cock you're currently stoking with both hands is long and elegant, with a rather pale complexion, further emphasized by the blue-ish veins at the base. You can't help but be gracious with your ministrations as you pleasure it, and surely enough, it doesn't take enough to push the man it belongs to over the edge. He spills thickly in your hands and you kiss the tip of it, careful as not to overstimulate it too much… But when you expect an early end to tonight's rendezvous, it seems like it's far from it. Without any indication of him leaving, you realize he's still pretty much hard. So you resume your actions, albeit timidly at first.

It quickly turns into you full-on sucking him off, seeing that your hands won't be enough anymore. His ample length is a little too much for you to take, so you're relieved once he successfully fills your mouth of his cum, a lot less thicker this time. Except, it's still not over. Such a greedy bastard, exploiting you for greater and greater pleasures each time.

Taking in a large portion of breath and exhaling slowly while you contemplate something, you finally decide to take the next step. You can do what you did last night… but facing the other way around, and maybe, just maybe adding a little bit of penetration to the mix.

It takes little effort nesting him inside your tight core because of how wet you've gotten in the meantime, much to your own surprise. Fine, you can be greedy too. Leaning forward until your palms are flat against the opposite wall of the cramped room, you soon fall into a steady pace fucking yourself back and forth on the man's cock that's once again rock solid and pulsing deliciously inside you.

Despite the high libido of the man, he prefers remaining rather still while you move your hips on him, never breaking his reserved and elegant stance. Huffing out a weary emission of air as you're left to shoulder all of the work, you focus on your own pleasure instead, since you're on the verge of cumming.

Your orgasm is rudely interrupted by the other party's own orgasm as he slips out of you and sprays your aching folds with his emission. Already having taken what he was after, he soon exits your sight, leaving you to your own devices as you finger yourself to a rather unsatisfying orgasm on the floor.

7.

Still holding a grudge from the previous night, your storm in the restroom determined to be as ruthless as you need to be and claim your own pleasure first and foremost.

Little do you know, however, that tonight is going to be another test for you.

You're making yourself familiar with yet another stranger tonight - despite being ready to bet that it's high time you're met with a repeat - as you test the waters on this new shape presented before you. He's thicker than any of the previous men. Hell, he's thicker than anything you've ever seen. The massiveness of it in your hands and how he dwarfs them honestly intimidates you. But you remind yourself of your resolve and decide to remain firm as you slowly take things further with him.

Spending too much time on oral is not a part of the plan as you don't want him coming too soon, but you discover that it has nothing to do with your plans anyway. Fitting him inside your mouth proves to be a challenge, and the pathetic way you just soak him in saliva and withdraw every time you take a little more than his head in your mouth makes you feel embarrassed.

Slowly rising to your feet, you accept that you might have to spend a little more time in here tonight. You hope your legs can take it, as you take off your underwear and stretch yourself open for the big intrusion.

Piercing yourself on his tan cock knocks the air out of your lungs as you feel so, so full of him. Without any option but to take it slowly, you massage and grope at your forms as you try to relax your walls around him as much as you can.

Suddenly the thick knob on the wall which you've been using similarly to the previous two nights becomes rather animated as he withdraws until nearly slipping out of your tight entrance, only to quickly thrust back in. Perhaps he got bored with your excuse of a service so far. Clasping both hands around your mouth, you have no choice but to receive his thrusts, the pace quickly building up, as you have to do your best to remain on your feet. Opting for leaning on the opposite wall instead, you have to choose between balance and keeping your mouth shut, as both prove to be hard to achieve at the same time. The man thrusts in and out of you, without a care in the world, and you don't notice how your hands are sliding further and further down until you're practically bent over the tiny space.

This man is an absolute monster. Time goes by in a haze as you find yourself cumming and again around the thick cock inside you, drenching him in your juices until they begin to run down your legs and onto the tiled floor. His stamina is insane - the fact that he can keep going while you're a wrecked mess is scaring you, and you don't know how much more you can take.

When you can't move anymore to meet his thrusts, thankfully his own pace becomes broken in telltale signs of his upcoming orgasm. You need his cum inside you like a trophy. You worked hard for it.

His load is nothing short of pure virility, copious amounts flooding up your insides and joining the rest of the fluids on the floor in a display of utmost obscenity.

You barely make it to your room on your doe legs.

8.

The previous night left you with a pleasant soreness between your legs and the size you're working with today is too big for you to even think about repeating the same scenario. It's gifted in length; pinkish and with a lot of foreskin. Another new one, much to your surprise. And another absolute monster of a cock.

Since your wrecked pussy is off-limits, you begin to worry about pleasuring this one - especially when you think back to how utterly greedy the last two visitors were.

An idea pops into your head.

You start off with the usual, lubricating the shaft with the wetness of your tongue as you suck, massage and kiss every sensitive spot. And there seem to be plenty of them. It's been some time since you've had such a receptive cock in your hands. It's quite lively with its constant little twitches as you get distracted taking it further in your mouth, almost gagging on its generous length. But enough of that.

Using one hand, you unbutton your shirt while simultaneously stoking the cock in front of you, not wanting to ignore him for a second. Once your breasts are freed, keep your kneeling position but get closer to the wall, hotness rising to your cheeks. Carefully, you guide the large cock to the valley of your breasts.

Another enthusiastic twitch. It's like he falls inlove with your idea right off the bat.

You're happy to see that this works with him to say the least, trying to move your body up and down as you press your breasts together using both hands. The slickness you coated him with provides a nice slide, but for a good measure, you drool down some more of it, watching the erotic display of his cockhead peeking through the gap of your tits on every slide.

Oh, this one is more than enthusiastic. You can tell he won't last much, but you're ready to blame that on the method you use on him more than anything. Is he a boobs man? Would he be just as enthusiastic if you were to let him fuck the crux of your thighs?

"Ahhh! Nghh…"

You freeze for a split second as you swear you hear an audible moan from the other side. Everyone so far has shown so much self-control and was careful as to not let out a sound too loud, and yet this one seems to be unable to hold back.

Needless to say, it motivates you.

You don’t even have to keep going for much longer until the cock between your squeezed breasts erupts and paints your chest white. You lean your head down just a little bit more and you're able to give his angry-red tip a playful lick for goodbye. There's no urgency to satisfying your own need, as you're better off taking care of it in the plush covers of your bed back in your room, for a change. Somehow you're sure that your playmate for the night would have wanted that for you too if he could speak.

9.

With a little over a week's worth of sinful adventures behind your back, you feel the need to take a moment and question how you got here. As scandalous as it is to think that there have been eight different members of Crown visiting that shady place for the same dirty purpose, you strangely find peace in the fact that there's at least one of them you're yet to have come in contact to, in this way.

In this very moment, you're still able to face each one of them individually and not die out of shame, because he could be the one.

So you have to leave it at all. For the sake of your sanity, you have to refrain from going anywhere close to that restroom again.

The cackle of the typewriter dies down as you're ready with the evening's workload of documenting Crown's missions, and now the call of your bed is all too strong to resist. You throw yourself face-first into the soft duvet and realize how cool and nice it feels against your skin. Have you overworked yourself, or is this heat trying to tell you something else? A familiar urge builds up in your lower belly, and you open your eyes just to see the wall clock's hands marking exactly eleven o'clock.

With the material you've gathered from those past days, it should be easy enough for you to find relief on your own. So once your hands slip inside your panties, each finding a point of interest, already soaked in liquid desire, your mind drifts off to a familiar place.

But nothing seems to work. As exciting as everything that has happened to you has been, it's nothing compared to the real thing. Since when you've become like this? A thrill-chaser, being only after what feels good without a care in the world. Much like a certain someone that got you in this mess, to begin with. And now there's a dangerous thought creeping into your head.

It's more of a gamble, to be fair.

Nine nights. The chance of all nine men visiting the hole one after another without a single one of them repeating or skipping is significantly small. Small enough to bet your dignity on it, it seems. Fingers still glistening with juices, you make a bold decision, telling yourself that if anything, you can try and resist touching the final ninth man, should he turn out to be tonight's visitor. 

The hole in the wall is not occupied, and you admit to yourself that you feel disappointed. You're close to turning on your toes and going back to where you came from, but then you hear footsteps approaching, on the other side. Sleek dress shoes, if you're correct. He's taking his time.

Where you expect to find someone's aching hardness, you find an entirely different body part. You stare down in confusion as you see a gloved hand thrust out through the hole.

"I know you're in there. Why so hesitant?"

This is…Alfons' voice.

But why? It's taboo to break anonymity like this, and he's wrong if he thinks that you'd—

"You can remain silent if you wish, of course, given that you can hear me at all. Though I have this feeling that this might be no other than Miss Robin herself."

Your head gets dizzy. How does he...? No, you shouldn’t fall for it.

After a moment spent in silence, he chuckles.

"Of course you won't answer me. If you're wondering why I'm revealing myself, I'd simply tell you that not all of us are ashamed to admit they have needs, little Robin. Why, I'm sure the person supposed to be on your side of the wall must have far greater needs, no? That's why I decided to be generous tonight and offer nothing but pleasure to that lucky individual. Go ahead, I'm lending you a hand."

Clad in a shiny black glove, Alfons' hand makes a sultry come-hither motion at you, and you swear it looks lewder somehow than if he'd left you with something other than his hand instead. Your folds are still dripping, the heat in your lower belly prompting irritating tingles all over. It would be oh-so-easy to lift your skirts and descent right on his ready palm, your pussy already bare as you left your underwear all the way back in your room.

Hesitantly, you approach the wall and do just that, shivering a little at the unfamiliar texture. But unlike the solid slabs of flesh you've taken the previous nights, Alfons' fingers don’t behave. They don't wait to be ridden to completion while you get used to their shape in your insides. Right from the beginning, Alfons zaps and twists his fingers inside you, discrediting the generosity he so fondly talked about just a minute ago. It's exactly what you tried to achieve alone in your bed. But deeper. And so much more relentless. And exactly what you've been missing.

"That's a good girl. You're taking them in so greedily."

The naughty sounds of your juices muffle most of your whimpers as the flat of his palm repeatedly hits against your swollen lips. Even through the glove, he's scarily precise. He aims for your sweet spots and makes you see stars in no time, until you can no longer find meaning in the dirty things he says.

"Aww, are you squirting on me already? Here I was ready to bet you'd need far more than that. Have those gentlemen been neglecting you? Did you find them rather lacking?"

You hear the sound of water hitting the tiles but you pay little mind to it as Alfons keeps grinding his middle and ring fingers against your sweet spot, scratching something inside you that's been tormenting you for a week straight. You have no name for this feeling. You just know that he ruined you from the very beginning, by telling you about this place, by luring you in here.

The only thing you can think about as you succumb to a violent storm of an orgasm is how much better his cock would feel hitting that same place inside you. How long does he intend on keeping you here, if this is how you start out? The whole night? Would he want to make you do something perverse, fitting of his ways? You care little about that as pleasure spreads all over, making you feel so light.

You immediately get down on your hands and knees, a wicked idea on your mind already, as you're ready to deviously entice him by licking his digits clean. But they disappear before you get the chance to, making you almost whine at the loss. Your pussy still throbs, so well taken care of, yet so neglected at the same time.

"Now, wouldn't you like to finally see for yourself? If I'm one of them, I mean. The ones you've already seen here before."

Blinking your eyes, you feel the weight of his words coming down on you. You've completely forgotten about that at this point.

Even without being able to see him, just being able to pin a name to the person behind the wall makes you imagine everything so clearly. The facial expressions you've seen him do, how he reacts to certain things. The piercing stare of those dead fish eyes when he knows he's right.

"Too bad I'm not in the mood for that tonight. I guess that leaves you no choice but to come here again if you truly want to find out the answer to that question, no?"

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[little-diable]

The Devil's Son – Cowboy!Tommy Shelby (smut)

I am surrounded by all things cowboy at the moment, so I wanted to pull Tommy into this – I feel like he would have been a good cowboy in the 1800s. The instrumental song „Baptized and Buried“ by Will Harrison set the mood. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is chased by a few men through a canyon, she is close to dying, but then a handsome stranger rips her from death's grasp. A stranger she won't ever part ways with again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions killing and being close to dying, quite some fluff, set in the 1800s

Pairing: Cowboy!Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (4.3k words)

picture from Pinterest, credits to the owner

Part 2

Her heart was pounding in her chest, it was whispering to her body, to find the last remaining strength to make it out of this chase alive. She could hear their shouts echoing through the canyon, followed by the sounds of their horses following her along the unsteady path. Her life was about to end, (y/n) could tell that she only had a few more seconds on her hands before a shot would pierce her skin, letting her drop on the cold ground. 

But even though Death was reaching for her with its cold fingers once again, she was determined to keep on running, to take risks she normally wouldn’t even dare think of. She had nothing to lose, if her life was already on the line, she could at least leave this life behind with one last adrenaline rush. 

The wind was blowing through her hair, letting the strands dance in the air while the fabric of her dress grew dirtier by the second. She had lost her shoes a while ago, forced to keep on running with bleeding feet that were about to throw her off her balance. 

(Y/n) risked to look back for a second, to catch the sight of the men who were chasing her, a foolish mistake that distracted her from the man and his horse who were about to reach her, coming at her from her left side. With a scream leaving her, (y/n) was picked up and thrown over the horse, with her body somewhat pressed against the man’s front as well as against the saddle. 

Even though her body begged her to throw herself off the horse, her mind told her to rest, to enjoy the few seconds where she didn’t have to run with her bleeding feet. Her thoughts were silenced the second a shot went off, letting the bullet meet one of the stones close to them. Only now it began to dawn on her that the man wasn’t with the others, he wasn’t part of the group that kept chasing her. 

For a moment, she lifted her head to look at him, to study his sharp features, the piercing blue eyes that reminded her of the ocean she had last seen when she had been a child, and the salt-and-pepper hair partly hidden beneath his dark hat. 

“Hold on.” His gruff voice rang in her ears as she tightened her grip on the saddle while trying to bite down her scream as he suddenly turned the horse left to make it up a hill. Shots kept echoing through the air, followed by screams (y/n) desperately tried to drown out. 

Only as they made it up the hill to get more distance between them and those who were chasing them did the man allow the horse to slow down. She felt his hands on her waist, and without another warning, she got shuffled around once again, to find herself sitting in front of him, with his front pressed against her back. 

“Thank you.” She couldn’t speak another word, not while the horse gained speed once again and the man tightened his grip on the reins. (Y/n) had to fight against the need to press herself closer to him, cosied along by the whispers of her exhaustion. 

“Don’t thank me yet, girl.” Before (y/n) could even form a single word to reply with, she heard the others once again, not giving their chase up just yet. 

……

“Hold on, I’ll carry you to the creek.” It felt as if hours had passed since they had finally managed to shake off the others. And yet they had barely shared any words until he had decided on a spot to spend the night at. 

“What’s your name?” She mumbled the question while he carried her, holding tightly onto (y/n) as the sound of the creek running along filled their silence. He kept quiet as he sat her down on the ground, only to reach for her feet to clean the dirt and blood off her skin. The man touched her carefully, a touch so soft and intimate, (y/n) wondered if she was only imagining things. 

(Y/n) couldn’t stop admiring him, the soft lines gracing his features, the concentration swimming in his piercing pupils. He was handsome, more handsome than all these men she had met back home and even on the journey down here. She had to stop her hands from reaching for him, wanting to touch the skin that looked unusually soft, even though he seemed to spend most of his time out on his horse, guided by the sun. 

“My name’s (y/n).” She tried once again to lure some information out of him, perhaps sharing her own name would encourage him enough to speak. For a second, his eyes met hers, he seemed to study her as if he was trying to figure out if she was lying to him, but he let his eyes flicker down to his hands moments later. Wordlessly, he let go of her now clean feet to rise back to his feet. 

“I’ll walk back up, take your time if you want to take a bath, it’s probably your last chance for a while.” Heat flushed through her at his words, hyperfocusing on the fact that he wouldn’t leave her behind in the middle of nowhere, but would take her with him, wherever he was planning on going. 

A sigh clawed through (y/n) as her fingers began to unbutton her dirty dress. It didn’t take her long to shuffle out of the slightly torn fabric, to let it drop to the ground while she sunk into the creek to wash herself clean. Her body was aching and the water was cold enough to soothe the pain clinging to her muscles, reminding her of the chase she had somehow survived, and the fear that had clung to her all throughout it. 

Whoever the stranger was, at that moment it felt like he was godsent, protecting her from Death’s grasp–allowing her to once again escape it. 

She let her hands rub her limbs clean before climbing back out of the creek. With the afternoon sun burning down on her, (y/n) found herself resting on the grass while drying. Her thoughts raced, thumping through her mind like whispers she couldn’t shake. Even though every part of her mind screamed at her to not trust the man, to keep her distance from a stranger who could easily sell her in the next city, her body was still hooked on the way he had pressed her to him while riding and how he had taken care of her wounds. 

With a sigh clawing through her, (y/n) rose back to her feet to pull her dress and undergarments back on, while trying to ignore the dirt sticking to it. Her feet were still hurting as she walked back to the stranger who had made camp for them with a small fire burning, and for a while, all (y/n) did was look at him, letting them both drown in their thoughts. 

……

“Can you tell me where you will take me?” The morning was still young, the cold breeze teased their limbs as they kept riding. Tommy had woken her a while ago, no words had been shared between them as they had saddled his horse to move once again. The night had been just as quiet, nothing had left his thin lips, not even a single word, but (y/n) had been grateful for his silence–it allowed her to figure out whatever she wanted to do now that she was free again. 

“We will reach town in about three days, there you can decide what you want to do. I have to keep riding north.” A hum managed to break out of (y/n). She had no plan, didn’t know where to go from whichever town he was taking her. 

“Why were these men after you?” The man’s low voice pushed heat through her body, making her skin tingle from the way his breath clashed against her neck. (Y/n) felt awfully comfortable in his presence, more safe than she had in years, protected and appreciated, almost. 

“I,” (y/n) cleared her throat. “I didn’t want to offer my body to them, but they ignored me and tried to take me with them anyway, so I killed two of them and lured them into the canyon. My horse didn’t make it, so I kept running.” 

She felt him tense behind her. Whatever was going through his head forced him to tighten his grip on the loose hanging reins, making her eyes focus on his slender fingers to wonder how it must feel to have him touching her. 

“I should have killed them.” His voice was low, dripping with an unfamiliar kind of anger that left her shuddering. Even though neither knew much about the other, there was something keeping them connected, something that ran deeper than just kindness one would offer a stranger. 

“It’s alright, I’m grateful you found me.” She couldn’t stop herself from finding his hand to squeeze it. The man didn’t react to her touch, at least not for a moment, but then he slowly let go of the reins to interlace his fingers with hers. (Y/n)’s heart skipped a few beats in her chest, it was whispering to her about things she didn’t understand and had never felt before, things that were now cosying her along. 

“My name is Tommy Shelby.” A grin found its way to her lips, and with a soft chuckle leaving her, (y/n) leaned back further to rest against his chest. 

……

“Have you been travelling for long?” She was resting against his saddle, close to the fire that kept warming them. Tommy was sitting next to her, with his arms crossed over his chest and his back also pressed against the saddle. 

(Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from drinking him in, every part of his handsome appearance. Not once had she felt this drawn to a man, unable to let her thoughts rest as she imagined the most sinful things. 

“I have, for years. I take on jobs every now and then, but it’s been mainly just me and the horse.” Her hands moved slowly, it seemed as if they had their own will, still hooked onto the memories of how it had felt to hold onto him. Their eyes met as her hand found his, letting their fingertips meet slowly to give him a chance to pull away. 

Something in his eyes shifted, something that whispered to him while he opened his arm to pull her against his side. (Y/n)’s head rested on his chest, she could hear his slightly accelerated heartbeat while his hand ran up and down her side. This was everything she had once been warned of by the nuns who had raised her–handsome strangers who could lure you closer with pretty promises only to chase their luck for a night before disappearing.

But with Tommy it was different, she knew he wouldn’t run, not from the woman he had rescued as if Death itself had called for him, knowing it wasn’t her time to go just yet. 

“It must get lonely.” Slowly, she lifted her head to look back up at him. The fire offered just enough light to illuminate his features, adding even more colour to his bright pupils. He looked godlike, but the darkness simmering inside of him was anything but godlike, he was a godless man, a sinner through and through. 

“You’re never alone out here if you listen carefully enough.” He stroked a few of her strands out of her face, letting them rest behind her ear to offer him a better view of her face. Their eyes held eye contact as he cupped her cheek to run his thumb along her skin, mapping out every inch she allowed him to study. 

The sound of something howling in the distance filled her ears, followed by the sounds of the soft breeze. Nature was everywhere, it followed them like a shadow they couldn’t shake, forever accompanied by the world's greatest wonders. 

“How is it you’re not married? A woman like you must have many suitors.” A soft chuckle left (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. She had her hands resting on his chest, almost pressing him against the saddle while getting lost in his eyes. For Tommy she would give up every plan, every promise she had once made, whatever he’d ask of her, she’d do it. 

“I ain’t one for sitting around at home to raise children while my husband is off to work, I guess no man wants a woman with such an unbending will.” She didn’t see it coming, didn’t expect Tommy to pull her in for a kiss before another breath could be inhaled into her lungs. But the second their lips met, something shot down her spine, something that forced her closer to him to deepen the kiss. 

“Well, I guess one man’s loss is another man’s gain.” Tommy murmured the words against her lips before he kissed her again. Her chuckles rumbled through the both of them, filling the night that wrapped them in their comforting veil. His hands tightened their grip on her frame, he held her close like only a husband would hold his wife. 

“We should get some sleep, we have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.” He parted from her slowly, leaving her dazed and slightly confused. With only a hum breaking out of her, (y/n) found rest on his chest once again, and with one last squeeze of her waist, Tommy kept holding her while sleep called for them. 

……

“Wait, let me help you.” Minutes ago they had rode into the town, finding their way through busy streets until they had reached the house they were now halting in front of. Tommy helped her down from the horse before he reached for his saddle. No words were spoken as they walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. 

She wanted to ask questions, unsure who they were about to meet and what Tommy had in mind, but the second the door was pulled open, any question she had wanted to ask was silenced. (Y/n) could instantly tell that the woman was related to Tommy, let it be from the way she carried herself or how she was staring at him with something his eyes had carried these last days–remorse, guilt, longing for his home. 

“(Y/n), that’s Ada, my sister. Ada, that’s (y/n), a friend of mine.” (Y/n) tried to ignore the ache inside her chest at being called his friend, she also tried to ignore the confused gaze the beautiful woman shot her, before she stepped aside to let them both in. 

“It’s late, Thomas, you should have told me you were coming. People talk in this town, they’ll accuse me of giving the Devil’s Son shelter.” A slight smirk began to widen on Tommy’s lips at his sister’s words. (Y/n) tried not to listen to the conversation as her eyes began to wander, taking in their new surroundings. The furniture seemed expensive, just like the paintings gracing the dark walls, she didn’t fit in, felt overly out of place with her dirty dress, her uncombed hair and the dirt clinging to her cheeks. 

“Do they still call me that?” Tommy reached for (y/n)’s hand to pull her along. Ada muttered something under her breath, words (y/n) couldn’t pick up on as Tommy pulled her into a room, letting the door fall shut behind them. She didn’t get a chance to speak up as Tommy’s lips met hers, instantly silencing any thought she couldn’t shake. 

He pressed her against the door while he let his hands wander, letting them find the buttons of her dress. They didn’t break the kiss once, not as he reached the last button, not as he pushed the dress off her shoulder to let the dress drop to the ground. Goosebumps covered her skin as the cold air teased her limbs, kissing every inch Tommy wanted to explore with his hands and mouth.

“How about a bath? We should take advantage of Ada’s hot water.” The words drew an excited gasp from (y/n). Only now did her eyes find the bathtub, something she hadn’t seen in weeks, perhaps even months. Tommy disappeared from her side to reach for the bucket placed close to the tub, and with one last kiss pressed to her lips he left the room, in search of hot water. 

(Y/n)’s tired legs carried her closer to the window, and with her arm covering her naked chest, she let her eyes take in the dark street lying to her feet. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen now. Could she ask Tommy to take her with him wherever he was going? Would he even want her around?

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you into the bath.” Tommy poured the first two buckets of hot water into the tub. He disappeared from her sight moments later, all while (y/n) shuffled out of her undergarments to sink into the hot water. A sigh left her at the sensation–it felt like a hug, a cosy blanket tossed over her cold body to soothe her pain and those aching muscles. She watched Tommy appear and disappear a few times before she found him shuffling out of his clothes too, finding his way to the tub to pull her against his chest. 

“Thank you, Tommy.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, while his hands wandered down her sides and back up, teasing her trembling body. The back of her head found rest on his chest, she was putty in his hands, allowing the man to guide her through whatever he was about to push through her. 

“Will you let me touch you, sweetheart?” All she could do was nod, wordlessly begging him to give into the longings both had felt ever since their kiss. One of his hands disappeared beneath the water, it stroked along her thighs before finding its way to her aching core, while the other moved up to her chest. He pinched her right nipple as his fingers began to circle her pulsing bundle, drawing a surprised moan from her lips.

It had been months since she had last been touched, and even though she was all too familiar with these sensations, her body reacted as if she had never been touched before. It felt as if her body was on fire, tossed to the flames by the Devil’s Son himself, the man who managed to push her towards the edge within seconds. 

“You make the prettiest sounds.” Tommy rasped his words against her neck as he kissed her skin, adding yet another tingling sensation to the ones she was already held hostage by. Her walls fluttered around nothing, desperate to be filled by the cock that hardened against her back. (Y/n) pressed herself further against Tommy to draw a moan from his parted lips, letting the sounds vibrate through both their bodies. 

“Tommy,” she choked on his name as he pushed a finger into her tightness. Her walls clenched around his digit, a wordless plea to finally fuck her, to cross the last few inches of distance between them. (Y/n) had to arch her back as Tommy added another finger to move them even faster, making her tremble and gasp for him only. 

“Let me fuck you, sweetheart, let me make you mine for this night.” He pulled his fingers from her aching heat to turn her around in his grasp. Their lips met for a desperate kiss, exchanging emotions they couldn’t put into words. With her hands clinging to the edge of the tub, (y/n) raised her hips, letting him push his cock towards her entrance for her to sink down on his length.

Both moaned in unison at the feeling of him sinking further and further into her tightness. Her walls pulsed around him, a desperate try to adjust to his size, to get used to being this stretched before he helped her move. With his hands placed on her behind, Tommy stabilised her trembling frame, he helped her fuck herself on his cock as sinful sounds left them both.

She was too focused on the sensation to pick up on the adoration filling his pupils, was too far gone to realise that he was marvelling at her like no man ever had before. Tommy wasn’t used to feeling this pull, a pull so strong, he feared it’d rip his heart straight out of his chest. He wasn’t one to stick around, wasn’t one to give into emotions guiding him away from his plan, but fuck, she had a special grasp on his soul. 

“Don’t ever stop touching me, Tommy, please. Take me with you, wherever you’re going.” She was too far gone to pick up on the uneasiness tugging on his features. Tommy wasn’t planning on taking her with him, he was planning on leaving the second she fell asleep, for his sake and for hers. His life wasn’t one he could share with a woman like (y/n), a goodhearted woman he would only taint with his dark touch. 

Tommy didn’t reply, all he did was hold onto her neck and waist as he pushed them around to press her against the tub to fuck her towards her high. Neither of them seemed to worry about the splashing water, about the mess they were making, all they were focused on were their highs, set on pulling them into darkness for a moment or two.

(Y/n) was the first to give in, with his name splattering from her lips, with her eyes squeezed shut, and with her fingernails clawed into his shoulders. Tommy kept snapping his hips against hers, chasing his own release until he came with a deep groan. Their hearts were racing, their lungs were aching, but their bodies didn’t part, not when they let go of soft chuckles, not when they looked at one another like only married lovers would. 

He was damned, had been from the day of his birth, but she was the light he had always dreamt of–and now he was burning, and nothing could tame the fire.

……

She woke with a groan. (Y/n)’s hand tried to reach for him, searching for Tommy's warmth she had cherished as he had pressed her to him last night. A smile widened on her lips at the thought of last night, the way he had fucked her in the bath and then on the bed, much slower that time around. 

Her eyes fluttered open, expecting Tommy to rest next to her, but the bed was empty. It took (y/n) a second to sit up, to let her eyes wander through the room. But Tommy was nowhere to be found, his clothes, boots, and saddle were gone. 

Panic flushed through her as (y/n) stumbled out of the bed to hastily pull on the new dress Ada had laid out for her. Tears welled up in her eyes, slowly but surely she began to realise what was going on, a pain so unfamiliar began to fill her, she struggled to keep on breathing. With hasty steps she stumbled down the stairs, urged on by the silent hope that he was waiting downstairs for her. 

The sun was about to rise, drenching the house in a dark orange that cozied her along as her eyes found Ada’s cold ones. For a second, the two held eye contact, until Ada folded her newspaper to reach for a cup filled with what (y/n) assumed to be coffee. 

“He’s gone, left a while ago.” The words drew a sob from (y/n). Her limbs were trembling, aching to hold onto Tommy again just like she had done the past days. How could he leave her like that? How could he leave her behind without a single goodbye? 

It set in like a train clashing against her, set on ripping her off her feet–she would never see him again. The man who had taken her heart right with him. 

(Y/n) fought against the need to drop to her knees, she couldn’t embarrass herself in front of Ada. Her glassy eyes wandered from the sighing woman to the window. It took her eyes a moment to focus on the familiar silhouette, the man sitting on his horse outside of Ada’s house. A choked sob clawed out of (y/n) as she stumbled out of the house, and with her tears dripping from her eyes, her gaze focused on an all too familiar face. 

“I thought you were gone?” Her question filled the cold morning. His eyes were hidden in the shadow of his hat, keeping the pained expression he couldn’t shake from her curious eyes. 

“Well, I left town, but I didn’t get far. It seems like I left my heart with you, and I can’t travel without it.” The choked laugh leaving (y/n) had an addictive effect on Tommy. He kept looking down on her from his horse as if he was waiting for her to make a decision, silently offering her the chance to stay here. 

“You’re an asshole for trying to leave me behind without saying goodbye. But I can’t be without you.” She stepped towards him, reached for his vest and pulled him down for a kiss. 

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart.” 

[allwaswell16]

I'm so sorry, but for the first time in 5 years, I just don't have it in me to do an episode of Fanfictional this month. If possible, I'll be back with a new episode next month. But I do want to acknowledge the wonderful One Direction fics I read this month as well as some I revisited for comfort. Thank you so much to these amazing fic writers who have entertained me or given me some respite. For more new fics, check out this month's fic roundup here

- Louis / Harry -

🧡 Stand on Holy Ground (series) by @wishingforloushair

(E, 17k, religion kink) Louis comes back to confess again, and Harry has an idea of how Louis can show God his devotion. 

🧡 My Spiteful Ballerina by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles

(M, 7k, omegaverse) Four times Harry wanted an explanation of Louis' hatred toward him, and one time Louis gives in, in Louis' fashion.

🧡 Die Without the Taste of You by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 6k, part 2 of Vampire Harry/Human Louis One Shots) the one where human Louis might push his vampire boyfriend a little too far, but it works out in the end

🧡 Ain't a Drop of Bad Blood by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, part 3 of Vampire Harry/Human Louis One Shots) the one where human Louis is being haunted by a spirit, and he's reluctant to ask his vampire boyfriend for help

🧡 Alone and Back Again by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 4k, omegaverse) what does one do when a feral alpha shows up in town ready to be executed?

🧡 The Shadow by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 666 words, dark Louis) Harry should've listened. He should've stayed inside.

- Rare Pairs -

🧡 That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum

(E, 24k, Zayn/Louis/Liam) Louis’ mind was whirring. He’d wanted to try and get with Liam tonight, but now a new, better idea was forming. Getting Liam with Zayn, if possible, would be something of a dream come true.

🧡 It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, Liam/Louis) the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?

🧡 I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence

(NR, 5k, Louis/Pedro Pascal) After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself

🧡 Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14

(E, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac) Edwardian music hall performer Louis Tomlinson meets the newest act in the show, the American magician Oscar Isaac. Romance, smut and a seance ensue.

🧡 Ci Ci Leu by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 3k, Louis & His Band) Written for the prompt «bread van fic reimagined with all the guys in Louis’ band».

🧡 Glitz, Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28

(NR, 3k, Louis/Dominic Harrison (Yungblud) When Isla found a love for the melody formed by a strumming of strings, Louis didn't expect to fall equally in love with his daughter’s guitar teacher, Dominic Harrison.

🧡 I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 2k, Louis/Prince William) Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

- For Comfort -

🧡 You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(M, 38k, omegaverse) This is just a bit of rain; it'll blow over. Then Harry will just... well, alright, he isn't entirely sure what to do when the rain stops because he'll still be stuck and lost. 

🧡  The Journal by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou, RecycledStardust / @wait4ever

(G, 14k, soulmates au) When Harry finds himself purchasing an antique journal in the ancient bookshop of a town he’s never heard of, he doesn’t exactly want to admit that he has no idea how he got there.

🧡 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 10k, witch au) Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🧡 Court Wine by @enchantedlandcoffee , red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 7k, omegaverse) after a misunderstanding during a scrabble game, Alpha Louis starts courting Omega Harry without the latter being aware of it.

🧡 Have Me And Hold Me by @letsjustsee

(NR, 5k, established relationship)  a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.

🧡 Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth. 

🧡 Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry

(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

🧡 Stealing Flowers by @lululawrence

(NR, 4k, meet cute) the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

🧡 Choo-Choose Me by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(G, 3k, Liam/Louis) Liam is a commuter with a crush. Louis is the chirpy ticket inspector who occasionally mans the drinks trolley and sometimes makes announcements, his broad Yorkshire accent fighting the outdated train speakers.

[adriellej]

Rough Days

Warnings: Explicit contents. Unprotected sex. Oral giving and receiving. Vaginal sex. 

Pairings: Harry Wells x Reader.

Word count:

Beginning 1: 2.1K+

Beginning 2: 3.8K+

In total: 4.7K+

Part 2

A/N: Smutty smut smut. It’s only my second time doing this, so hope it’s okay. Just had a good idea, and there’s probably going to be a part two, where they have to deal with it if you want it? Also, there are two types of beginnings to it. One where Reader is already drunk and Harry finds her, and one where they get drunk together! Have fun! 

Also, unprotected sex is a no-no, bad idea, don’t condone it!

Also GIF's aren't mine!

Reader already drunk beginning:

The past few days had been tough for you. The metas Alchemy was creating kept showing up everywhere, the metas already created by the particle accelerator explosion seemed to try to keep up with Alchemy's. 

Captain Singh wasn’t making it easy at the precinct. He had benched you because of the lack of sleep and focus you were having, you were acting out over the smallest things. So naturally you had needed some time away from everything. Away from home, away from work, and away from people. 

The team had gone home for the day a few hours ago, and you had made your way to the lounge area of S.T.A.R. labs and the fridge you knew had beers in it. You didn’t quite keep to the beers, you had also managed to find a flask of whiskey and tequila. 

By now you had gotten quite the buzz going, the music was playing from the speakers as you downed yet another shot of tequila. The liquor burned its way down your throat and you scrunched up your nose before biting into a piece of lime and shaking your head at it. 

“Whooo, I should do this more often,” You laughed to yourself. You had always been the type of drunk person who would end up being a happy-go-lucky kind of person. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” A rasped voice pulled you away from your endeavor. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you. Harrison Wells with his black jumper and slick black jeans. His dark hair was slightly ruffled with a few strands sticking out to the sides. His expression was stern yet with a glimpse of amusement. 

“Harryyyyyy, hiii!” You slightly yelled out over the music. “What does it look like I’m doing though?” You questioned him back with a grin on your face as you took a swig of your whiskey. You didn’t wait for his answer as you continued. “I’m having my own little party, and quite honestly I’m having the absolute best time!” You lifted your glass in your hand and made your way over to Harry swaying ever so lightly on your way. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” He looked at you with a little bit of concern in his eyes as he gripped onto your arms to keep you standing upright and not tumbling over. Your hands wound up on his as you realized which kind of muscles he was hiding under that jumper. You squinted your eyes at him and began to make a pout with your lips. It didn’t last long before your lips turned upwards and your eyes were filled with enjoyment and carefreeness. 

“Actually I don’t think so, and you mister,” You said as you poked Harry in the chest hard enough for him to be swayed a bit backward. “Won’t take my fun away,” You finished before breaking out into a full laugh. Harry chuckled at you and your behavior. 

“Actually come to think of it, you should join my fun!” Your lips turned into a smirk as you went to get a glass of whiskey for Harry. “We deserve a bit of fun and downtime,” You said momentarily your voice was laced with seriousness. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” He chuckled with his beautiful smile ever so lightly creating his dimples. “Somebody has to make sure you’re okay,” He continued as he gestured with his hand to you. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fantastic,” You answered as you went over to him with the glass of whiskey in your hand. “Here, drink up my friend!” You spoke attempting to sound serious, just to have your smile betray you. Harry took the glass from you and took a swig of it causing you to smile even wider. 

“So you’re in?” You questioned with a small expectant giggle at the end of it. 

“I’m in,” He says with a wink and a smirk at you, rendering your knees to go soft on you. He takes another swig of the whiskey emptying the glass. He handed it over to you and you gladly took it to get him a refill. 

“We need to get you up to speed with me,” You smiled mischievously at him. You sat down a shot glass in front of him and poured some tequila into it. “Let me borrow your hand,” You said as you held out your own. He does as you tell him and you lick at the back of his hand before pouring some salt on it. “Salt, shot, and lime,” You tell him. He looked at you, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes had darkened at the action you had made.

“Earth to Harry?” You asked as you waved your hand in front of his face, your own face confused with a cocked eyebrow. “Yes?” He cleared his throat before speaking, followed by a big swallow causing his adams apple to bob. 

“Did you hear anything of what I said?” You let out a laugh that came from the bottom of your stomach. 

“Right, yes I did,” He licked the salt from his hand, took the shot, and bit into the lime. His face scrunched up by the taste of the liquor hitting the back of his throat. You made him take quite a lot more, you took some with him to keep your own high buzz going. 

Reader and Harry getting drunk together:

You were walking into S.T.A.R. labs with the rest of the team. It had been a tough fight with the current metas roaming the streets of Central City. Alchemy was creating quite a lot on the way, and every damn meta in this town seemed to be out for blood. 

You threw your backpack on the floor beside the central console of the cortex. You flopped down on a chair in front of the computer, taking your guns out of your holsters and putting them down on the table. 

“I swear Y/N, if one of those goes off on my computer, you’d wish hell was freezing over,” Cisco pointed at you. 

“Oh relax Cisco, the safety is on,” You say as you look at them, realizing that you might have forgotten that in the heat of the moment, or maybe more in the tiredness of the moment. “Or now it is at least,” You mumbled to yourself. 

“What was that?” Cisco asked his eyes squinting at you. “Nothing!” You laughed it off, knowing he would in fact kill you if you ruined his computers. 

“That’s what I thought,” He laughed back at you. 

“You do know he means it right?” Harry spoke with a serious face as he sat down beside you. You looked over at him with amusement in your eyes. 

“Is Harrison Wells afraid of what Cisco might do?” You joked. You thought you were funny, but looking at Harry’s face you thought differently. His eyes were hard as he looked at you. It felt like he was looking right through you. You swallowed thickly at the hard glare he was giving you.

“I’m not afraid of Ramon,” His voice was hoarse and low but laced with a hint of worry. Cisco’s computers and satellites were his everything, and having seen it be blown up a few times, both you and Harry knew he would hurt whoever hurt his tech. 

“Well, we’re going home for the day,” Barry and Iris smiled as she spoke. “I’m more than ready to go home and get some sleep. We’ll see you all tomorrow,” She continued and waved at everyone. So did Barry as they left the building. 

“I’m going to follow them. Cisco can you drive me home?” Caitlin asked her friend. Caitlin had had a rough time lately, she didn’t talk much about it, but you knew she would when she was ready for it. 

“Are you coming along too, Y/N?” Cisco asked grabbing his jacket from the console in front of you. 

“Nah, I’ll stay here for a while. I’m gonna see what it is we’re missing with Alchemy and all these new metas that are popping up. Thanks for asking though!” You smiled and gave a thumbs up to let him know you meant it. 

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to go home and rest?” Harry asked beside you with a soft smile. You loved to see him smile, even more because it wasn’t so often he did. 

“No, really it’s all good. I want to be here, no need to go home to an empty apartment anyway,” You spoke as you looked away from him and back to the computers in front of you. 

Harry nodded at you and walked away, probably to go work on his own Alchemy project. You started to type away, going through every piece of evidence you had on Alchemy. 

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the clock. It felt like you had been sitting with it for hours, but there had only been 40 minutes. Realizing that you weren’t going to get much done you walked to the lounge, grabbing two glasses and pouring some whiskey into them.

Turning the corner into Harry’s lab you saw him looking at the clear board with equations on it, his white marker in his hand. You had been right when you thought he would be working.  You knocked at the entrance causing him to turn around and look at you. 

“What?” He asks gruffly and you raise the two glasses of whiskey in your hands. 

“Wanna have a drink with me?” You asked politely entering his workshop. 

“Uh, sure,” His answer was short but held a lot of meaning. He never stopped working, so his saying yes was a win for you. “Any particular reason?” He questioned as you handed him one of the glasses. 

“Can’t we just enjoy a drink without there has to be a reason for it?” You asked cockily with raised eyebrows. It earned you a small laugh from the Earth-Two scientist. You looked at him surprised at his response to it. “Maybe we should do it more often if it earns laughs from you,” You jokingly continued. 

“Don’t count on it,” He replied deeply, though there was still a small smile hiding behind the glass. You raised your glass to him and took a sip of the liquor. The burning sensation was welcoming in your throat. The small interaction you and Harry had was nice. Your life had been a mess lately so when you had emptied your glasses, you had stayed with Harry while he went back to work.  

“Are you just going to sit there for the rest of the night?” He asked looking over his shoulder and back at you. 

“Well actually I’d say yes, but then I thought we could also decide to have our way of resting,” You smiled at him as you took your feet down from his desk and turned all the way towards him. His features looked questioningly at the statement you had made. “We could go drink some more whiskey. Pretty sure we both could need some time away from Alchemy?” The last part you said as a question as you waited for his response. 

“And why would you think that?” Harry’s usual hard look and closed-offness showed. 

“Because Harry, you have been staring at the same equation for the past hour and gotten nowhere,” You told him gesturing to the board in front of him. His stare felt like it could shoot daggers at you for having said that, but you knew he was agreeing with you when a small nod came in your direction.  “Cool, let’s go then,” You said snapping your fingers in the direction of the lounge you had picked up the whiskey in before. 

A few whiskeys in you were both talking a lot more loosly about what was troubling you. As Harry, you weren’t one who cared much for sharing too many feelings or problems. They were your own, and yours to deal with. 

“I could have sworn you had just decided to spend most of your time here, just like Barry usually does now,” Harry stated as he looked slightly surprised at you for your confession. 

“Nope, Captain Singh asked me, or more made me, stay home and take care of myself. He sent my ass home, and I can’t just sit at home doing nothing, so here I am,” You threw your arms out to the side as you took a small bow in the chair. 

It earned you one of the rare laughs from Harry. Either it was the alcohol talking or maybe Harry was actually enjoying himself a little. You decided to go with the latter, making it so much easier to just smile and forget things for a while. 

You stood up to grab the flask of whiskey, only to realize it was empty. You looked through the cupboards to see if you could find something else. A devilish smile crept on your lips as you grabbed the flask and stood up. “Harry!” You yelled out. His body shot towards you at your sudden outburst. “I have found something better than whiskey,” You smiled from ear to ear shaking the tequila bottle in your hand. “We are so going to take some tequila shots!” You laughed out loud at the expression on Harry’s face. 

“No, we are most certainly not,” He replied coldly as he stood up and started to leave, and you knew how you could make him stay. 

“Harry, it’s a task, and you solve tasks right?” He stopped dead in his tracks and you could almost imagine the expression on his face and that joyed you even more. You knew you had won. 

“Fine!” He exclaimed and turned back to you, a few large strides and he was on the other side of the island. 

“Do you know how to?” You asked hesitantly not knowing how much drinking he had done on Earth-Two and in his younger days. “Did you just ask me if I know how to do tequila shots? How old do you think I am?” He said slightly annoyed before he broke out a dimple-filled smile. You broke out into a real fit of laughter before answering him. 

“I’m so sorry Harry, that sounded terrible,” Leaning forwards on the table in front of you, you half smacked yourself in the head when you put it into your hand. 

“C’mon, pour it Y/L/N!” He chuckled as he pushed the shot glass over in your direction. You found the salt and cut out the limes you had found in the fridge. You weren’t quite sure why the team even had this here, but you weren’t about to be mad at it. 

You clinked your glasses together before shooting it down. You both shook your heads and looked at each other, smiles spreading as you continued to pour tequila into your glasses.

“Right, let’s see,” You say with an idea in your head. You licked your own hand as you put it to your neck, you leaned your neck to the side as you drizzled salt on it and the lime in your hand. “Let’s go, Harrison,” You smiled playfully at him, his eyes glistening with just as much playfulness. 

He stepped close to you, your chests touching each other, his hands on your hips. You leaned your head to the side giving him access to lick the salt off of you. His tongue was warm to your skin sending shivers down your spine. You had to bite your lip to stifle a moan from escaping your lips. He stayed at your neck a little longer than he needed to and kissed you on the neck as his face left your neck. Downing the shot you had poured him, he looked for the lime and you smiled brightly with it between your teeth. 

It didn’t take long for Harry to catch on to what you wanted. A smirk danced across his lips before crashing them to yours to bite the lime. His lips were soft on yours. He tasted of a mix of tequila, lime, and whiskey. You spat out the lime before going back to kissing him. Your arms snaked around his neck drawing him closer to you. He gladly accepted and deepened the kiss. His tongue slid across your lower lip and you quickly granted him access. 

Your tongue felt like it fit perfectly with his as they danced and explored together. The kiss was filled with need, a hunger, for each other. Damn his an amazing kisser, you thought to yourself as you got completely lost in his intoxicating kiss. You broke apart after a few minutes needing to catch your breaths. 

His crystal blue eyes looked into yours, they were darker than usual, filled with arousal. Your chest was heaving for breaths and Harry pulled away from you. You whined as you lost the heat from his warm body. 

“I’m sorry,” He spoke lowly as he started to pull completely away from you. You grabbed the jumper in your hands and pulled him towards you. “Harry shut up and kiss me again,” You ordered your own eyes filled with lust. It didn’t take long for him to oblige to your command, his hands roaming your entire body. 

He pushed you backward till you reached the countertop and boxed you in between his body and the table. Your fingers tangled themselves in his dark locks as you pulled lightly at them. A hum escaped his throat as he kissed his way down from your jaw to your ear nibbling lightly at your earlobe before moving down to your neck. 

His kisses left your skin on fire. A burning sensation was starting to grow in your stomach and between your legs. You wanted him. You needed him. 

“Harry,” You whimpered in response to his kisses, licks and sucks. He was sure to leave marks on you. His hand moved in between your legs cubbing the outsides of your cunt, grinding at it with his hand. 

Several moans left your throat involuntarily. You couldn’t help it, this man was doing so much to you. He was humming in response to your moans. His lips went back to yours. You could feel the grin on his lips as he kissed you. 

His hands grabbed around your thighs hoisting you to sit on the countertop, keeping your legs spread to make space for him in between. You locked your legs around his waist pulling him as close to you as you could.

He grinded against you and you met his grinds with your own. You could feel his arousal, rock hard and ready for you. A groan left Harry’s lips at your movements and a smirk appeared on your lips. This time it was you breaking the kiss to make it to his neck leaving open-mouthed kisses. As you bit slightly into his skin, an animalistic groan left his throat, as you left a mark on him. 

“Either you stop and we go to my room, or continue and I’ll take you right here,” His voice was low and lust-filled as he spoke. The words hit you as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Oh I’m not nearly done, Harrison Wells,” you mused his name and it seemed to have the effect you wanted it to. Harry gripped your hips tightly and pulled you closer to him as his lips crashed with yours. The kiss was filled with need as you were both losing control of yourselves. 

One of his hands traced under your shirt and up to your breast and grabbed it. Your body ached for him as your chest shot forward at the feeling of his fingers pinching your nipple. His hand let go of your breast only to discard the clothing in front of it. He kissed down your neck and down to your chest and sucked lightly at your nipple as his other hand traced up your thigh toward your wet spot. 

“Oh god, Harry,” You moaned out at the heat pooling inside of you. 

“Mmh, what?” He looked down at you with a big smirk on his lips, his normally blue eyes almost completely dark from lust. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” You looked up at him whining. “But now we’re at it, you have too many clothes on,” You smiled innocently up at him as your hands glided toward the hem of his jumper. He chuckled deeply before lifting his arms up to discard his jumper. 

Your mouth fell open as your eyes roamed his torso. His chiseled muscles showed as he flexed a little under your stare. Clothes did him dirty. 

“My eyes are up here Y/N,” He pulled you from your trance. Your cheeks flushed as you looked down shyly. His fingers went under your chin to make you look up at him. “Like what you see?” He muses with amusement.

“I mean, have you looked yourself in the mirror?” You spoke as your eyes darted down to his chest again. Your tongue darted over your lips as you took all of him in again. “How can I not like what I see?” You continued your own eyes darkening more. 

Your legs tugged him into you again as your lips met his again. You were fighting for dominance, pouring every feeling of lust and need into the kiss. Your fingers were digging into his skin at his shoulders. 

Harry pulled you down from the countertop, unbuttoning your jeans, not once breaking the kiss. You shimmied out of your jeans and panties and stood completely nude in front of him. This time it was Harry’s turn to get tranced, licking his lips. 

“My eyes are up here, Harrison,” You mused the same response he had had to your staring. His laugh filled the lounge as his hands found your hips again. “What? No smart comment?” You chuckled. “Nope, not this time. You look beautiful,” His smile was genuine, his eyes had gone soft again, and you felt your cheeks burning from his admiration. He leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was different from the others, this was more caring and more emotional. 

Your hands went to his shoulders moving down his chest. He flexed under your touch and deepened the kiss again as your hands found the button on his jeans. It didn’t take long for him to discard them. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but dart down to his erection. He sure did hide a lot under those clothes; because holy hell he was well-equipped. The burning desire inside of you took over as you went down to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes. 

A smirk playing at your lips as you licked from the base of his cock and up to the tip. A deep rumble came from Harry’s chest as his eyes closed shut and his head leaned back. Your tongue swirled around the tip, licking off the precum before taking his cock into your mouth. You bobbed your head in rhythm with your hand at the base. Your tongue swirled around the tip every time you came back up, before taking as much as you could of him in again. 

“Y/N,” Harry moaned out. “Fuck, it feels so good,” his breathing became more panting as he took every bit of pleasure you were giving him. You could feel him tense under your touch and you bobbed your head a little faster, drawing him closer to his release. 

He took in a sharp breath as he pulled away from you. 

“Harry, why did you do that? I almost had you,” You looked up at him while pouting. 

“Because when I cum I want to be in you,” He took hold of your hand helping you up and he instantly pushed you back to the countertop. His lips find yours again, his hands on your hips, lifting you back up to sit. His head moved down your chest, down to your stomach, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his way. 

Your own breathing became quicker at the thought of what he was about to do. Your hand tangled itself in his hair as he kissed the inner side of your thigh. The feeling of his mouth leaving shivers going up and down your body. Moans escaped your lips as he moved closer to your cunt. 

“Mmh, you’re so wet for me,” He breathed as his tongue licked through your folds, leaving a fire burning inside of you. His tongue flicked over your bundle of nerves. The pleasure coursing through your veins, the feeling of heat pooling in your stomach, alarming you that you were close. 

“Harry, I’m-,” You choked out, one hand gripping the countertop so tightly your knuckles were going white. 

“Cum for me, princess,” Harry focused more on your clit and it didn’t take long before you were coming undone for him. He lapped all of your orgasm before coming back up to your head and giving you a chaste kiss. 

“Well you certainly know what you’re doing,” You breathed heavily coming down from your high, a proud smirk played on Harry’s lips. Your hands reached around his neck and you pulled him close to you. Your kiss wasn’t chaste in any way, it was lust-filled and hard. You could taste your own orgasm on his wet lips. One of your legs wrapped around his body, pulling him even closer to you. “I need you Harry,” You begged him. You needed him inside of you. You were hungry for him. All of him. 

Harry aligned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you. Moans escaped both of your lips as he let you adjust to him. He slowly started thrusting into you. Controlled, slow moves were dragging out the pleasure already building in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good around me. So perfect,” He breathes into the base of your neck. One of your hands was holding onto his shoulder and the other clawing at his back. 

“Harry, I- I won’t last long,” You were moaning and panting under him. 

“Neither will I,” He groans out, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier. Your orgasm builds up quickly in you. Leaving you screaming out his name as you draw closer and closer. A few more quick and hard thrusts leave you both coming down and hard. 

He stayed with his head dipped into the crook of your neck, your hand started drawing circles at his back. He draws back from you and pulls out of you. His dark hair was messy from sweat and your hands, and you only saw the most handsome man you had ever seen. 

A big goofy smile played on your lips and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, as your breathing was slowing down again. 

“What?” He smiled and shifted a little on his feet as his cheeks turned a shade of pink. 

“Oh, nothing, you’re just very handsome,” You spoke looking him deeply in his eyes. He leaned in to give you another kiss. He broke apart from you, but you continued to peck his lips in between words. “Also. You. Just. Rocked. My. World,” Your hands were cupping his face as you held onto him. 

“Well, why don’t we go rock it some more,” He returned your goofy smile with a wink as he dragged you with him to his room. 

Your eyes slowly started to flutter open and you groaned out at the bright light hitting your face. You rubbed your eyes with one hand as you felt the hangover headache hitting you. It wasn’t until you tried to move that you realized that there was someone beside you. 

You turned your head slowly as to not disturb whoever it was holding onto your side. 

You didn’t exactly expect to see a certain dark-haired grumpy scientist beside you. 

“Oh god, what have I done?” You said to yourself, panic coursing through your veins, causing a pair of blue eyes to open and look at you.

Tag list:

@hiddenwritingsintheworld, @brianllamawrites, @sarawritestories

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Marigolds In The Porch Lights (18+)

Gardener!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Smut (FINALLY), but also some Fluff and Angst

Warnings: A poor attempt at a shower sex scene, unprotected sex (ALWAYS USE PROTECTION, Y'ALL), and some kinda twisted feelings I guess idk these two are just constantly teasing each other

Words: 6.4k (I had so much fun with this y'all)

Summary: 1971 era; SEQUEL TO STRAWBERRY LEMONADE; George and Reader finally have their time together; also Geo is not famous in this so I guess it counts as AU lol

A/N: MUST READ STRAWBERRY LEMONADE FIRST FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE! But honestly the amount of requests I got to make a sequel, anyone who's here has probably already read S.L. (also thank you for all the requests! <3)

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One week had gone by since the blossoming of your new relationship with George, and you could not stop thinking about him. Calling him during the week just for your own pleasures seemed rather selfish, so you forced yourself to wait the full week until his next Saturday gardening job. After all, that wouldn’t be fair to his personal schedule, now would it?

Now, here it was, the fateful Saturday afternoon, and the anticipation was swarming you. You knew that you were always his last appointment of the week, and you would have him all to yourself from now until the sunset. You contemplated walking outside naked to greet him, but quickly remembering that neighbors exist, the idea was obligated to fade away. You still wished you could, though.

You left the gate unlocked, allowing him to let himself in. He was so caring of your space, taking time to lock the gate behind him so as not to allow the opportunity of any unwanted guests. You waited by the patio for him, prepared with another plate of fresh strawberries and a cold glass of lemonade. You made enough for two this time, specifically if those two were going to be staying together for a while.

Upon George’s entry, he eyed the fruity treats reminiscent of his previous time here. Instead of helping himself to a snack, he approached you to place a patient kiss upon your lips, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist as he did so. His other hand held his gardening toolkit, keeping it at his side while you deepened the kiss. George was almost ready to drop the bag and take you in his arms, but felt he should at least accomplish what you’re paying him for first.

“How have you been?” You started, having a bit more courage to talk to him this time. He laid out his tools as he knelt in the grass.

“Doing what I normally do, I guess.” He replied absentmindedly, “Though I was excited to get back here and see how the strawberry seeds are doing.” He flashed you a cheeky grin, and your shoulders instantly floated down to a more relaxed stance. George wasn’t big on expressing his true feelings directly, but he had his own ways of getting his point across. You slowly drifted off, listening to his voice as he spoke, until he stopped, and you realized he was waiting for you to answer his question.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, causing George to tilt his head in confusion.

“You have been watering the strawberries, right?” He repeated, gesturing to the empty space beside him, “The soil looks moist, so I’d say they’re doing well.”

“Oh! Yes,” You giggled, “I purchased a book on how to care for them the morning after you planted it.” A wide smile spread on George’s face, giving you a short nod and happily moving on to the next patch of flowers. You wore a scarlet colored dress today, planning for him to give you a matching rose from your garden. You concluded that you were the one who could determine which type of flower you receive by the color you chose to wear that day. You weren’t sure if George was also aware of this arrangement, or he just enjoyed finding flowers for you too much to notice.

You had treated this time you spent with George almost like your first date. You wanted to know everything there is to know about him, no matter how minor. In the hours that he had been there, you learned that George also knew how to play guitar, and he enjoyed writing songs, but was never really interested in the life of fame and performing to the public, so he preferred not to pursue it. Being a gardener and getting as much time in nature as he could was more than enough to make him happy.

The time went faster than you both wanted it to, partly because this time felt like you had known each other for years. George had even taken the time to show you how to tend to certain flowers, as the rules differed based on the type of plant. He showed you all his tools, demonstrating how to use them and the best places to start to preserve the flowers, as well as any of his personal favorite natural additives to help the flowers grow. You now knew that adding common household items, such as white vinegar or banana peels can give your flowers a speed boost. George even explained how ground coffee could be beneficial to the soil if you decided to start growing vegetables. His wide range of knowledge was better than any purchasable book could provide.

Before you knew it, the sky was growing orange, and the sunset was upon you. More time to spend with George aside from his occupational responsibilities was not completely out of the question, so you hadn’t lost hope yet. That is, until you saw him reach for his bag to start packing up his tools.

“You’re leaving?” You blurted out, not wanting to sound desperate but your body not even giving you a chance to consider your words. “You just got here!”

George glanced down at his watch, eliciting a small chuckle. “I’ve been here for three hours, love.”

“Well it felt like three seconds to me.” You pouted, crossing your arms and slumping back against the tree you were sitting under. “And you said we would do more together next time! That’s what you said the last time you were here!”

“And we did, didn’t we?” George replied, not missing a beat. “Last time, there was much more uncomfortable silence. This time, we had a wonderful conversation.” He paused to remove his gloves and place them in the pocket on the side of his bag, slowly rising from where he was seated in the grass. “That’s a pretty big improvement, don’t you think? It’s something I can cherish, especially since we won’t be seeing each other next week.”

Your eyes widened. Initially, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly, but it was true. First you had missed out on quality time with George and now next week he wasn’t going to come by? You felt your heart sink, trying your hardest to keep the tears from escaping your eyes.

“Why not?” You whined, a little louder this time. You didn’t want to sound like you were throwing a tantrum, but it was difficult when that was exactly what you wanted to do.

“I’ll be out of town next weekend.” George replied matter-of-factly, “I’m going to visit my family as one of my relatives is getting married. The wedding is on Saturday, so I’ll be gone the whole weekend.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to do anything that would make him stay. But why? He didn’t do anything wrong, but your impression of how the day would go when he got here was a lot different than how it actually went down. You felt like you were lied to, except that you weren’t. Last week, George said that you would ‘make more time for each other’ this time, and technically, you did. He never said what that time was going to be spent on. Perhaps you two had different ideas as to what his return would bring. But instead, you tightened your chest, putting away that tantrum for your alone time later.

“But I thought-” You stopped yourself, knowing that telling George what you really wanted could potentially lead to unwanted results, especially if he didn't feel the same way.

“Thought what?” George asked, staring at you as you mentally cursed yourself for popping a corner of the lid on Pandora's Box. “Did you have a plan for today?” He was too clever. There was no going back now.

“Well…” You started, feeling a blush creep up onto your cheeks, “Sort of…”

“Oh?” He teased, the sunset casting a brilliant sparkle on those dark brown eyes, “Well, come on then. Out with it.” You pursed your lips, shifting your gaze to the floor. George leaned in closer, the coarse hairs of his mustache brushing against the shell of your ear. “So long as we're pretending I don't already know.”

He knew what you wanted. He was going to make you say it.

You stood concerningly still, almost frozen. It was a battle of wits, but you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to win or lose. If you gave up now, and spilled your guts, would you get what you wanted? Or would George continue to string you along, making you wait anyway just to see you squirm?

George sighed, looking at his watch again. “Well,” he huffed, feigning annoyance, “if you have nothing else to say, I suppose I should be going now.” He kissed your cheek, wedging his hand into your own to leave his complementary petal before making his way to the gate. You couldn't even look at him as he left, feeling too embarrassed. Instead, you looked down at your hand. A rose petal, no surprise. You were about to head inside until you heard George call your name. You partially turned around, still feeling rather conflicted. He was standing on the other side of the gate, pointing towards the patio.

“I'd turn that light on if I were you. It gets rather dark out here.” He waited for you to respond. You slowly nodded, approaching the back stairs. And with that, he got in his car and drove off.

You flipped the switch, watching as the porch light came on. It was a glimmering golden yellow hue, expanding its beam about halfway through the garden. You weren't sure why George told you to put it on, but it did make the garden look brighter. Even when you were angry with him, you would still do whatever he wanted you to.

But why were you angry? George hadn't done anything wrong. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn't care. In fact, there was a part of you that liked it. You felt like he was playing with you without even touching you. Wrapped so tightly around his finger that you felt like it was your life force. It strangled you in the best way possible. Like an invisible leash secured around your neck, and he could pull you wherever he wanted. You were completely and truly captivated by him.

Slipping quietly into the house, you felt like you wanted to cry. The anger had subsided and was soon replaced by a persistent longing. Your disdain towards having to go two weeks without seeing George wasn’t even due to the fact that you were crazy about him. It had become a routine. At this point, you wished you hadn’t been so shy to start a conversation with him the first three times he showed up. That you hadn’t waited until just this previous week. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’d be closer.

You didn’t know where to go from there. Part of you accepted this as what it was, and you would see George eventually, while another part of you felt defeated that you wanted to do something about this when you knew you couldn’t.

When you woke up the next morning, your house felt quieter, despite you having always lived alone. Almost like George had been staying in the guest room this whole time unbeknownst to you. Perhaps he was a frequent visitor to the guest room in your brain.

You spent the rest of your weekend like any other weekend: it was another gorgeous spring day, and you loved to sit out on the patio and catch up on your reading while you enjoyed your lunch or an afternoon snack, hearing the faint melodies coming from your living room of whatever record you put on for the occasion. It was the only time you actually preferred being alone. Perhaps it was the only activity potent enough to fill the void of your longing for George.

When night came again, you headed inside, about to shut the patio door when you swore you heard a voice.

You froze, but briefly shrugged it off as being in your head. You looked outside, barely being able to see your garden, but knowing it was only your subconscious. You shut the door, turning to walk away until you heard it again.

I’d turn that light on if I were you.

It gets rather dark out here.

You sighed. Even when George wasn’t around, you felt like he was right beside you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you released a noise that sounded like a mixture of both as you flicked the porch light on, not paying it another thought as you headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Monday morning. You dreaded it more this week for some unknown yet obviously known reason. The past few weeks, you would just think about your weekend with George to get you through the boring parts of the day. But since this weekend did not pan out like you thought it would, there wasn’t much to occupy your mind. That was the hard part about all this. George didn’t have a typical nine-to-five. He would have gardening sessions scattered throughout his day. Sometimes he would be booked solid, and other days would be quick appointments for treatments, leaving more time for his personal schedule. Even if you wanted to meet up with him during the week, your strict schedule prevented you from having any time with him. Maybe something could’ve been worked out eventually, but the current state of your brain would not settle for that. You wanted him and you wanted him now.

When you got home that night, the feeling had not left. It was more manageable while you were away, but you felt like you were coming home to a house that was once full of life, only to no longer harbor that same feeling. You had never realized how much life George brought to your daily routine even when you didn’t live together. For a moment, you wondered why this was affecting you so much. Perhaps you were overreacting. You would see George again. It would just be longer than usual until you did. You released a heavy sigh, a sliver of hope that you could push this feeling out of your mind, for at least a little while, had begun to show itself.

Until night fell. You glanced at the back door.

The porch light.

That fucking porch light.

The entire time you lived here, you barely even acknowledged its existence. But ever since George made you aware of it, you think of it every night. Subconsciously, you thought maybe if you were consistent in putting it on every night, he would come back. He would find his way to you, sensing your desire to see him, and you would never be apart again. Never be alone again.

You turned it on again, simultaneously hopeful in your delusional scenario and growing impatient at how long your heart wanted to keep up the act.

The next morning, going by the door to shut the light felt like a walk of shame. What were you waiting for? George had his own schedule. His own life. He would see you when he could. You couldn’t help but start thinking if George was missing you as much as you were feeling every day was so bleak without him.

But yet, that night, you turned the porch light on again. Feeling an overwhelming, compelling urge to stay, you opened the back door, stepping out onto the patio. You stared up at the light, admiring the wonderful golden hue of the small bulb inside its painted glass shade. The shade was brushed in bright yellow, matching the bulb and some other accents of the house’s exterior decor. It seemed so much more prominent at night. It was the only thing visible from far away. A sign of life in the home. You smiled at the thought. You would’ve probably never got around to use it if it wasn’t for George. He truly did bring new life into your home.

Thanks to the light, you could see the first few rows of flowers in your garden surrounding the large tree in the center of the yard. This was your gradient row, as you loved to refer to it as. The row where George had taken many creative liberties, creating a smooth-flowing spectrum of colors around the tree like a color wheel. The warm tones faced the house, showing you your lovely spread of roses, tiger lilies, and marigolds.

The marigolds reminded you of the light. Bright, yellow, and outstanding. It was also one of the only few flowers in your garden that George had not given you petals from. You turned back to the light. You decided it could be your marigold petal. At least for now.

You didn’t stay long. You quickly returned inside, shuffling briskly back down the hall, trying to make it to the bathroom before the tears dripped off your face and down onto the floor.

The following morning, as your fingers brushed against the switch to turn off the light, you let out a loud sob. It had rained in the middle of the night, and the sight outside the back door, one of gray overcast and a messy, muddy garden, made it all feel much too real. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You missed George. Oh, how you missed him. One day a week wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more of him. So much more. More than your own mind, body, and soul would ever know.

You considered taking off work today, as your mangled emotions were surely draining your energy. But realizing that staying home would only twist the knife further, you conceded. It was almost as if any choice that life could make would've been wrong in your eyes. Whether you went to work or stayed home, you felt uncomfortable. If the work day went quickly, you were dreading coming home to face your feelings again. Yet, if the day dragged on, you groaned at the thought of having to endure more time until your fateful reunion with George. You were incessantly unsatisfied. Insatiable, even. The only correct answer was George. You needed him to give you what he had promised you, whether he was waiting for you to admit it or not. At this point, you wouldn't have even cared if you sounded desperate. You were desperate. You didn't care if you had to call him right now and divulge everything you felt. How badly you wanted and needed him. Your brain was chasing a fierce addiction, and George was your dealer.

That night had been the hardest so far. You couldn't even bring yourself to walk down that hall. The light wasn't going to be some magical beacon to signal George. You felt like you were holding onto nothing. You didn't care if the light wasn't on tonight. It made no difference anymore.

You went to sleep early that night. Your main thought process was to sleep as much as you could to make the days go by faster. You didn't even want to think about this Saturday. Your soul felt like it was grieving. But grieving what? George didn't break up with you. Technically, the two of you never even established any sort of declaration of a relationship anyway. But you felt like you belonged together. You were his and he was yours. As sweet as the thought was, you quickly shoved it away as you felt your eyes welling with tears.

You turned on your side to try and sleep when you heard a noise outside. It sounded like a low thud, but fairly close to your house. You shrugged it off at first, until you heard it again a few minutes later, sounding closer this time.

You sat up in bed, overtaken by fear. Living alone, you always worried about having to fight off intruders. Luckily, nothing had ever come of it. Until now.

Grabbing a broom from your hall closet to arm you, you headed into the living room. Your first instinct was to check out the front window, being too scared to open the door.

You peered through the curtains, seeing nothing to the left or right of the door, the street only illuminated by the porch lights of your surrounding neighbors. Of course the universe had to think of a way to remind you of what you were desperately trying to put out of your head.

You closed the curtains, ready to go back to bed when you heard what sounded like wet footsteps coming from your back door.

Oh fuck.

If this really was an intruder situation, you were anything but prepared. You glanced at the back door, hiding behind the hall corner. With your breath held and your muscles stiff as the wooden boards beneath your feet, you took slow steps down the hall. You lurched forward to quickly lock the door, which you normally did anyway but forgot that night as you never actually made it to the door without crying.

Knowing that the lock was safely in place brought you some time. Being closer to the door, you heard another sloshing sound, as well as some angry muttering. With your luck, the intruder slipped on the wet and muddy grass and was now disoriented, leaving you time to- well, do what, exactly?

You hadn't thought this far. Do you call the police? Make a loud noise in retaliation in hopes to scare them away? Armor yourself with throw pillows to burst through the door and use your broomstick to beat them senseless? Your mind was racing. The most reasonable thing to do in that moment, although it hurt quite a bit, would be the answer to whether this was really a life or death situation.

You turned on the porch light.

When the illuminating glow hit the grass below, you saw a person laying there, covered in mud, clearly not anticipating the new biome that had been created in your backyard. You screamed, causing the person to immediately look up at you. Upon making eye contact, you felt your heart spring up into your throat before free falling down to your stomach. You threw open the door, feeling like you were being fled with a million emotions at once, all conflicting each other. You stood there in shock, only being able to choke out one single word.

“...George?”

“I thought I told you to keep that bloody light on! I almost broke my neck out here!” George shouted, but couldn't keep a straight face long enough to be convincing, dissolving into a puddle of laughs back onto the ground. You felt your whole body fill with happiness. You dropped the broom, running out into the yard, slippers and all, squealing all the way before landing on top of him, trapping him in a tight hug.

You kissed him faster than your brain could process what you were doing. The familiar feeling of his soft skin, luscious hair and beard, and plush lips made your whole being swell with euphoria. Your golden yellow silk pajamas were now full of mud, but it didn't matter. George was back here with you. And you didn't need anything else.

“You’re getting all muddy, love.” George giggled, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face.

“I don't care!” You shouted while laughing, pressing loud, wet kisses across his face and neck. George wrapped his arms around you, resting his hands on your waist. You pulled away, staring into his eyes. It may have been late at night, but you felt wide awake as ever. Before you even opened your mouth to speak, you knew there were tears dripping down onto your cheeks. “I didn't think I'd see you again for a while.”

“I planned to stop by before I left, but I didn't have much time during the day.” George confessed. “I wanted to surprise you, but I'm realizing it might have been a better idea in my head.” He looked around the yard, then at his muddy clothes, eliciting a light chuckle. “Thinking about it now, I probably should've called first.”

“I'm just so happy to see you.” You replied, not even hearing half of what he said. You heard he planned to come back for you, and that was all you needed to know. “But I'm guessing your plan involved you being able to see once you got back here. Hence the, you know, porch light.” You averted your gaze, adding a nervous laugh.

“First I tried hopping over the fence, and tripped over that.” George explained, staring back at the gate. “Then I tried to walk quietly, and slipped in that big puddle over there. Not to mention I tripped over the center gradient, so I apologize for that. I'll be sure to fix it the next time I'm around.” He added with a swift cup of your chin and a kiss to your lips. You looked at the tree, seeing the warm toned flowers slightly uprooted, tiny specks of dirt adorning their golden petals. Honestly, that didn't even matter to you. The image of George trying to sneak into your backyard and failing miserably made you erupt into laughter again.

“I suggest you have to get cleaned up now, don't you?” You asked, running a finger through the thick layer of mud adorning his jeans.

“Well, yeah, but I refuse to get your floors all dirty.” George declared. You helped him up off the ground, trying your best to smudge the dirt out of his hair, as well as your own.

“You can leave the clothes in the laundry room. I'll deal with them tomorrow.” You replied. George shot you a look, helping you brush some of the grass off your pajamas.

“So it's already been decided that I'm spending the night, then?” You smirked, not saying anything back. George smiled, sneakily pinching the skin on your waist. You squealed, playfully batting his hand away. You turned to walk back to the patio when he spoke again.

“Even after we get out of these filthy clothes, we still have to get ourselves clean, you know.”

You froze, a chill running through your spine, excitement filling your body. You whipped your head around, grabbing George’s hand and leading him to the stairs. You were about to open the door when he put his arm out to stop you.

“I know you're excited, love, but I still don’t want to bring all this mud into your clean house.” He seemed genuinely concerned by this issue, but at this point, nothing was going to stop you.

“Okay, fine. Easy fix.” You stated, slipping the straps of your pajamas off your shoulders, followed by your underwear. George’s eyes widened as he watched the silken fabric pool around your ankles, leaving you completely nude standing on the patio. The cool air of this particular spring night began to wash over your body, and you shivered slightly. You weren't sure if it was from the sudden breeze, or the tantalizing feeling of this whole situation, but either way, your nipples were completely hard.

Seconds later, George followed suit, removing his muddy shoes, followed by his equally sodden shirt and pants. He stopped at his underwear, feeling a flash of uncertainty. He was no stranger to being nude, but being nude while standing on the back porch of his lover’s house in the middle of their classy suburban neighborhood? That was a new one.

He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Seeing your fully bare form, taking one slow drag of his eyes over your lower half, he quickly shuffled off the remaining piece of clothing and tossed it on the floor with the rest. You opened the door, scooping your clothes up in one swift motion, walking a mere few feet and tossing them in the laundry room to be dealt with eventually. You couldn’t be bothered right now. George did the same, keeping his clothes in a neat pile right beside yours, placing his boots by the door. He stood there for a few seconds, gauging your readiness to proceed. With a smirk on your face, you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom.

You opened the shower curtain and turned the water on, feeling the warm steam slowly fill the room. You adjusted the water to a comfortably neutral temperature before climbing inside, leaving space for George to join you. You stayed under the stream of water, allowing it to take its time to rinse all the mud off your arms and legs, and most of it out of your hair, leaving you with a fresher start before moving on to shampoo and soap. You looked over your shoulder at George, who now seemed rather chilly, so you switched places, allowing him to rinse off as well. He had been wearing more covering clothes than you, so there wasn’t much dirt he needed to get off his body, but his hair was a different story. He spent extra time using his fingers to comb through his beard, which seemed to be a prime target for all that grass and soil.

Getting started on washing your body, you had briefly turned away from George to grab your soap. Before you could open the container, you heard a low shudder coming from behind you. You looked at George, who was now staring at you, while sporting quite the erection. You giggled, lightly poking his stomach. “Am I taking too long for you?”

“You know, for someone who wanted me so badly outside, and is now teasing me about having to wait, you’re quite mad, aren’t you?” He stated, glancing down at himself while continuing to rinse his hair. You laughed louder this time.

“I figured we would clean up first.” You said innocently. He chuckled.

“Why do that when we’re just gonna get dirty again, love?”

You bit your lip, holding back a whimper, but the way your legs involuntarily began to clench shut gave it away immediately.

You nodded. “I see. Well let’s get it on then.”

The second you finished your statement, George wasted no time grabbing your waist and pressing his lips against yours. It was a hungry kiss. Passionate. Longing. It had confirmed he missed you just as much as you missed him. You put your hands in his hair, which was now much softer under the water. You were the one to take that passion further, feeling his lips part and allowing your tongue to enter his mouth. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, moving his hands from your waist down to your ass, kneading it softly yet with an impatient edge to it. You were tempted to hook one leg over his waist, but the slippery floor beneath you made you fearful of losing your balance, so you refrained. But you wouldn't have even had time to take action, as George quickly pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you up against the shower wall. You put your hands out, both of them splayed out on either side of your head as your cheek made contact with the cold tile. George grabbed your waist again, slowly grinding against you, slightly pressing you between the wall and himself. The contrast in temperature between the cool, flat surface and the steamy air made your head spin before he even did anything else. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

“I think you've waited long enough, my beautiful flower.” You moaned softly at his statement as you felt him enter you. Slowly, savoring it just as much as you. It was a bit of a stretch, but you never found it painful. The combination of the warm water and your mutual arousal provided a decent amount of lubrication.

George continued to leave kisses around the shell of your ear and down to your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. Once he was all the way in, he steadied himself before going any further. “You doing okay, love?” He cooed, patiently waiting for your response.

You sighed blissfully, softly nodding your head and letting out a low “mhm” while taking in all the sensations around you. The mix of everything made you whine in pure ecstasy, feeling so full in the best way possible, not wanting to say or move much in fear of losing your grip on it. You felt like you were in a different world, where it was only you and George, and nothing else mattered. However, you were not in the mood to be kept waiting either, feeling like you were holding your breath a bit, waiting for his next move. You took another deep inhale and exhale, releasing another moan in the interim. “It's okay,” you mumbled, “you can keep going.”

George nodded, starting with a soft, slow pace. Even with shallow thrusts, you were already in heaven. You quickly got lost in the rhythm, hearing his occasional breathy sighs directly into your ear. Hearing him enjoy it just as much as you were only turned you on more. And the more George fell into a rhythm as well, the faster he went. His thrusts became quicker and harder, pushing you up against the wall with each motion. Your moans had just become one long groan of pleasure, the way your nipples dragged across the cold wall with each thrust stringing you along even further.

When you felt that pressure start to build, you couldn't even form a coherent sentence to signal anything, the only word falling from your lips a meek “George...” before a high-pitched whining overtook you again. George shushed you softly, rubbing his thumbs along your waist as he brought you closer to the edge.

“I know, flower. I know.”

What felt like seconds later, you felt your orgasm crash over you, a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a scream flying from your mouth, proclaiming your everlasting love and worship of the man behind you, feeling yourself begin to slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath. George finished shortly afterwards, his grip on your hips tightening as he came inside you. He tilted his head back, a low, steady groan signaling his release. He had no choice but to use the wall for support as well, nearly falling on top of you after he slowly slid out. It was times like these you considered turning off the shower head and just filling up the bath instead, as your legs felt like jelly by this point, leaving you with minimal energy to hold yourself up.

Before you could say anything else, you felt George’s hands on you again, running his fingers through your hair. You smelled the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling it glide through your hair as you closed your eyes again. He held you tenderly, guiding your head to the water, gently tilting it back to rinse the suds from your hair.

Once finished, he started on your body, massaging the soap all over your back, making sure to be careful around any areas that were currently more sensitive than usual. You sighed happily, feeling pampered like royalty, so grateful to have him here with you.

After a few minutes, your legs didn't feel like that of a newborn giraffe anymore, so you turned around to face George, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before taking the bar of soap. “I got it from here.” You giggled, finishing yourself off before starting to help him out as he eyed your shampoo. It wasn't what he used, but it smelled nice, and there wasn’t much of a choice in this situation. He chuckled before squeezing a small amount onto his palm, looking down as you lathered up his chest and stomach.

Once you both had thoroughly cleaned up, you turned off the water and stepped out, fetching some large fluffy towels and equally soft robes to only increase your level of comfort. By now, both of you were free of mud, partially dry, and ever so tired. Wasting no time to climb into bed, you snuggled up against George, resting your head on his chest.

“I'm so happy you came back.” You whispered, placing a kiss right over where his heart is. George giggled, caressing your arm.

“I would've always come back, flower.” He paused with a pensive sigh. “I enjoy every second I spend with you. You give me new life. A new purpose to an already wonderful experience.” You stared up at him, eyes wide in awe. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings to you without hiding them behind his usual cheeky humor. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

“You have no idea how special you are to me.” You beamed, craning your neck up to kiss his jawline, surprised when he turned his face and you landed on his lips instead.

“And you to me.” He replied. You enjoyed the streak of added sappy statements from George, but you knew it was a big step for him, judging by the deep breath he took afterwards, followed by a swift “Let's get some sleep, love.”

“Okay,” you agreed, “but let me just make sure I locked the back door first.” George nodded, getting comfortable on his side of your bed as you hopped out from under the covers, shivering again as the cool night air came back with a vengeance on your naked body. You quickly put your robe on and shuffled down the hall. You clicked the lock shut and went to go back to your room when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Something yellow.

You looked around until you spotted it again, sticking out of the side of George’s boot. Bending down to get a closer look, you moved the muddy laces and pulled it out. A tear almost fell down your cheek and you held it between your fingers. A petal from one of your precious marigolds, presumably stuck there when George tripped over them on the way in. You smiled warmly, feeling your heart soar at the idea that George can give you a petal every visit, even if he didn't realize it. Without saying anything, you put the petal in the pocket of your robe and made your way down the hall, trying not to disturb George as you quietly slipped back into bed.

==============================

IT'S FINALLY HERE Y'ALL 😄 I'm so happy I can share it and it was definitely a fun plot to continue!

Taglist: @peaceloveandstarrs @queen-of-stars @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @thatgoesinthere-misshapes

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[atommadly]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗔 𝗦𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗦𝗧'𝗦 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗞 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗗.

Welcome to the hub of all my Harrison Wells/Eobard Thawne creations! 🖤 Whether you’re craving angst, fluff, smut (18+ only!), or something in between, you’ll find it here.

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𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬/𝐄𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 (𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡-𝟐) 𝐇.𝐑. 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 (𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡-𝟏𝟗) 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 (𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡-𝟐𝟐𝟏) 𝐍𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 (𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐫) 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐂𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐡

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[unreliablesnake]

MASTERLIST

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Forbidden Love

Elopement

Escort

Untitled drabble #1

Smutty request #1

Hold it together when the world's on fire

Unmute

Animals (smut)

Animals - part 2

Animals - part 3

Animals - part 4 (smut)

Animals - bonus chapter

Animals - bonus chapter 2

Abortion request

The bet

The bet – part 2

The bet – part 3

All of the girls you loved before

Movie night

Jealous Ghost request

Shy!reader request

Thunderstorm

Bitten - zombie!Ghost

Surprise

I want you, but...

Bliss (smut) - I want you, but... part 2

Simon says (smut)

Lost and found

Smut drabble #1

It would've been nice (zombie!Ghost)

Jealous!Simon drabble

"Mare" series

Not on my watch

Is it too soon?

High (smut)

Dirty little secrets

Timing

Cornered

"Osprey" series:

The only exception

••••••

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

It's time to have fun (smut)

Jealousy (smut)

••••••

John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Lover

Smut drabble #1

Shock

••••••

Phillip Graves x reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

Sharing is caring

Sharing is caring – part 2

••••••

John Price x reader

Bakeneko

Scenes from a relationship: the fight

Yearning

Punishment (smut)

Am I old?

Give me a reason not to love you

••••••

König x reader

Can you handle it? (smut)

Your memory

One-night stand (smut)

Tall reader request

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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x reader

The first proper date (Mare series)

Race day

The Boogeyman

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Joel Miller x reader

Wounded animals

Someone like you

Early birthday present (smut)

Good girl (smut)

The plan

reputation

Workaholic!reader request

Dirty little secrets (smut)

Singer!reader

You must be new here

Embarrassment

I shouldn't love you, yet here we are

part 1

part 2

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Phillip Graves x reader

Failing

The trip

Is it in your DNA?

Help me out

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Marquis Vincent de Gramont x reader

Gf limited series

Proposal (smutish)

Dress-up game (smutish)

Territorial (smut)

One-shots

Interrogation

Divorce

Vincent takes a liking to you series

Vincent takes a liking to you HC's

Home is where your heart is

Stay

Hold on tight

The dress

Pregnant

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Miguel O'Hara x reader

Keep your distance

Keep your distance - part 1

Keep your distance - part 1.5

My place

Villain!reader snippet

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Harrison Wells & Eobard Thawne x OFC

Of reverse love and stuff

How he met his lightning rod

The parents

Confession

Good news, bad news

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Harry Wells x reader

Somebody like you

Part 1

Part 2

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141 x reader (barracks bunny)

You're reading what? (Ghost)

Punishment (Price. Smut.)

A special kind of therapy (Alex. Smut.)

The unlucky one (Ghost)

[cheynovak]

When we were young - Part 3 

Ben (Soldier Boy) Harrison x F/Reader Y/N             

Contains/warnings: 18+, implied smut, angst, fluff, hurt, trauma, time jump, going crazy, mental issues, drugs/ alcohol abuse, ...   

Side note: English isn’t my first language      

Words:  6300

 Last chapter

*Does not follow the boys storyline – first 2 chapters set in a time period where Ben was not yet a supe. Since we don’t know his last name, I came up with Harrison for this story.*   

-- 

Y/N is a young girl who works with her mother as a maid in the household of Mr. Harrison and his son Ben. Since Ben was mostly in boarding school and Y/N till this summer in a normal school, they got to know each other very well.  

One summer everything changed when Ben confessed his love for Y/N right before leaving for the war. Leaving her alone, when he comes back feels like he doesn’t deserve him, afraid what she would say now that she is ‘soldier boy’ a man with many flaws.  

But when he hears she died of heartache, he feels responsible, his grief and pain hunts him in a form he can’t ignore... Y/N.  

--  

1973 

Ben leaned heavily against the bar, the combination of alcohol and something far stronger coursing through his veins. The party was in full swing around him, the opulent ballroom filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses.  

Women in glamorous dresses flocked around him, their eyes sparkling with the thrill of being near a living legend. He smirked, the familiar feeling of adoration washing over him, but tonight, it felt hollow.  

As he sipped his drink, a flash of movement caught his eye. He turned his head, scanning the crowd, and then he saw her. For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.  

She stood in the shadows, her face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking it. It was Y/N, the woman he had lost so many years ago, looking exactly as she had in the 1940s.His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of hope and confusion.  

"No way," he muttered to himself. "She can't be..." He took a step forward, his focus narrowing solely on her. He was barely aware of the people around him, the music fading into the background.  

Each step felt like a mile, his breath hitching with each movement. She turned slightly, their eyes meet, and he was sure it was her. The same eyes, the same posture – it was impossible, and yet there she was.  

Just as he was about to reach her, a hand gripped his arm, pulling him back. He turned, his eyes wild, to find Crimson Countess standing there. Her expression supposed to be concern but felt cold.

"Ben, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the din of the party. "It's her" he mumbled, his voice rough. Crimson Countess shook her head gently. "Her? You've had a lot to drink, and God knows what else. You need to calm down, people are looking." 

He looked back over his shoulder, his heart sinking. The spot where Y/N had stood was now empty. "No," he breathed. "She was right there. I saw her." Countess tightened her grip on his arm. "Come on, Ben. Let's get you out of here. You're not going well on what you took tonight."  

Ben resisted, his eyes darting around the room, searching for any sign of her. But she was gone, as if she had never been there. The weight of the years pressed down on him, the alcohol and drugs no longer dulling the pain.  

The ache of loss and the cruel twist of fate left him feeling hollow. “Let's go," Countess said softly, guiding him away from the crowd. He allowed himself to be led, his mind spinning with what he had seen or thought he had seen.  

Y/N, was there. He was sure of it, he saw her. But now, as the party buzzed around him and Countess's steady presence kept him grounded, he couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a hallucination, a trick of his fractured mind.  

As they left the room, he cast one last look over his shoulder, hoping for another glimpse, another sign. But there was nothing. Only the memories of a love long gone, and the haunting image of a face from the past that refused to fade. 

-- 

1950 

Many years after the war ended, Ben finally returned home. The weight of his actions during the war hung heavily on him, and the thought of facing Y/N filled him with both hope and dread.  

He knew he had done things as Soldier Boy that made him afraid to return home. As he walked up the familiar path to his family's home, memories of Y/N flooded his mind. Her smile, her laughter, the way she had looked at him with such trust and love.  

He had promised to come back for her, and now he was finally here. Hoping she could forgive him. But the war had changed him, and he feared how she would see him now. He pushed open the front door, the creak of the hinges echoing in the empty cold hallway.  

His father emerged from the living room, the smell of alcohol preceding him. His face was red, eyes bloodshot, and there was an anger in his expression that Ben had grown used to but never fully accepted.  

"Well, look who's finally decided to come home," his father slurred, swaying slightly. "The big hero." Ben could see how much his father had aged and changed. "Dad, I..." Ben began, but his father cut him off.  

"Don't you 'Dad' me," he snapped. "You think you can just waltz back in here after what you've done? After leaving us all behind?" Ben swallowed hard, trying to keep his temper in check.  

"I came back to see Y/N..." His father's expression darkened, and he laughed bitterly. "Y/N? You came back for her? Well, you're pretty late, aren’t you boy!" Ben's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" His father took a swig from the bottle he was holding and then pointed a shaking finger at Ben.  

"She waited for you. She waited and waited, hoping you'd come back. But you never did. And it broke her heart." A cold dread settled in Ben's stomach. "What... what do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

"She got ill short after realisation you never wanted her." his father said, his tone shifting from anger to a bitter resignation. "She got ill from missing you so much. I thought it was like her mother, but...” He stopped to change his sentence.  

“I found her one morning, in your room. On your bed. She was gone." He looked his son in his eyes, not even now he won’t show Ben any emotions. Ben felt like the ground had opened up beneath him.  

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No, that can't be true." His father nodded, "She was a fine woman. I asked her to marry me, you know. Thought I could give her a good life, take care of her. Give her stability.” 

“But she asked to wait for an answer until you were back home. Now I see she was just waiting for you to come back so she could run away." Ben stumbled back, the weight of his father's words crashing down on him.  

The image of Y/N, lying in his bed, waiting for him, crying, was too much to bear. He had waited to come home to her until he thought he was worthy, afraid to show her the addiction to drugs and alcohol, but knowing this... this was something else entirely.  

"I didn't know," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't know she..." "Of course, you didn't," his father said, his tone harsh. "You were too busy being a hero, too busy to even write a letter... probably too busy covering yourself in cheap women.”  

He took another sip. “Well, now you know. And now you have to live with it." Ben turned and fled the house, the walls closing in on him. He ran down the street, the familiar sights of his hometown blurring as tears filled his eyes.  

He kept running until he reached the edge of town, where he collapsed on a grassy hill overlooking the fields he had once known so well. That night, the weight of his father's words still pressing heavily on his heart, Ben returned to the house.  

The quiet of the night offered a strange solace, the town asleep and unaware of the turmoil inside him. He moved silently, his steps barely a whisper on the old wooden floors. He had to see her room.  

He needed to feel close to her one last time, to understand her pain, and perhaps to find some fragment of the life she had lived while he was gone. He made his way to the back of the house, where her room had been.  

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and he stood there for a moment, letting the memories wash over him. The room was exactly as he remembered it, though dustier and more forlorn.  

He moved to her bed, the faint scent of her still lingered on the pillow, a bittersweet reminder of the woman he had lost. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to capture that last essence of her, to hold onto it like a lifeline. After a while, he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.  

A small trashcan in the corner caught his attention. He approached it and saw remnants of burned paper inside. Carefully, he sifted through the ashes, finding fragments of letters and notes, their edges singed and blackened.  

Among them, he recognized pieces of the book he had given her when they were kids. It had been a cherished gift, one they had read together countless times. His heart ached as he sifted through the remains, piecing together the love and memories they had shared. 

Then, at the bottom of the trashcan, he found something else a journal, its cover scorched but intact. He pulled it out, his hands trembling, and opened it. The diary was filled with Y/N's handwriting, pages upon pages of her thoughts, fears, and hopes. As he flipped through the pages.  

Tears streamed down his face as he read her words, her pain and love laid bare on the pages. She had never given up on him, even in her final moments. She had believed in him, loved him, and waited for him until she could wait no longer.  

Among the journal entries, he found one that stopped him cold. It was a letter she had written to him but had never sent. In it, she poured out her heart, telling him how much she loved him and how she had dreamed of the day he would come back.  

She spoke of her sorrow, her confusion, and her unwavering belief that he would return, on how his father had offered her stability in marriage but she rather have a life full of challenges with him. How she begged for him to write, at least letting her know he thought of her.  

He had to get out of there, to take these pieces of her with him. He couldn't leave her behind again. As he looked around the room one last time, he spotted something else, a robe draped over a chair. It was her robe, the one he had always joked about how ugly he thought it was.  

He remembered the way it had wrapped around her, somehow she could make it look beautiful. He took it, feeling the fabric between his fingers, the faint scent of her still clinging to it.  

With the journal and the robe in his arms, Ben slipped out of the house never to return again. 

-- 

1973

Ben woke up with the remnants of his dream or memory still lingering but now overshadowed by a strange, unsettling clarity. The room was dark, the only light coming from the dim glow of the city outside.  

He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep, when he saw her again. Y/N was sitting in the corner of the room, her back to him, combing her hair in front of the mirror. The sight was so surreal, so impossibly real, that he felt his breath catch in his throat. 

He pushed himself up, elbows on his knees, staring at her. "Y/N?" he called out, his voice trembling. She didn't respond, just kept looking at him through the mirror, that enigmatic smile never wavering. Slowly, she put down the comb and turned to face him.  

He watched, mesmerized, as she walked across the room, her movements fluid and graceful. When she reached him, she didn't say a word. She climbed onto the bed, her weight sinking into the mattress beside him, and then onto his lap.  

Ben was mesmerised, his mind racing with disbelief and longing. "How?" he managed to say, his hands reaching out to touch her, to make sure she was real. His fingers brushed her cheek, her skin warm and soft beneath his touch.  

She remained silent, her eyes locked onto his, filled with a mixture of love and something he couldn't quite place. She raised a hand, gently touching his face, tracing the lines of his jaw and the rough stubble of his chin.  

"Y/N," he said again, his voice cracking. "I thought you were gone. How are you here?" Still, she didn't speak. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin. He closed his eyes, the reality of her presence overwhelming him. The feel of her in his arms, the scent of her hair... it was all too real, too vivid to be a dream. 

For a moment, he let himself believe. He let himself be lost in the sensation of having her close, the years of pain and loss melting away. But as he opened his eyes, he saw something flicker in hers, something that reminded him of the fleeting glimpse he had caught at the party.  

"Are you... real?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Her smile remained, but there was a sadness in her eyes, a sadness that spoke of truths he wasn't ready to face. She cupped his face in her hands, her touch tender and loving, and for a brief, heartbreaking moment, it felt like everything was right again.  

She leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft ambut cold against his. Ben felt a jolt of emotion course through him, a mix of longing, love, and sorrow. His hands moved instinctively to the small of her back, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.  

The sensation of her, the taste and feel of her, was so achingly familiar and yet tinged with the surreal. But as their kiss lingered, he felt a shiver run through her, a subtle tremor that hinted at the impermanence of this moment.  

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and hope. "How is this possible? How are you here?" She looked into his eyes, her gaze filled with a depth of emotion that he could barely comprehend.  

Her fingers gently stroked his cheek, and for a moment, he thought he saw a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. As she pulled away, she rested her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him in a tender embrace. He held her close, his eyes closed, savouring the feeling of her against him.  

"Please," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Don't leave me again." But as he blinked, she began to fade, her form dissolving into the darkness. He reached out, trying to hold onto her, but she slipped through his fingers like mist. "No, no, no," he murmured, panic rising in his chest. "Don't go." 

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she pressed another kiss to his lips, softer this time, more lingering before she vanished.  

-- 

Later that day, Ben felt like a shadow of himself, the memory of Y/N's visit haunting him. He couldn't shake the image of her sadness, the unspoken words lingering in the air. He needed to know what had happened to her, needed to understand how she could appear to him now.  

The questions gnawed at him, eating away at his already fragile state. Driven by a desperate need for answers, Ben stormed into Vought International, his presence causing a ripple of unease among the employees.  

He demanded to see someone who could help, his voice rough and insistent. He wasn't leaving without answers. Within moments, he was ushered into a conference room where an executive awaited him, flanked by a couple of assistants.  

The executive, a middle-aged man with greying hair and a stern expression, greeted Ben with a mix of respect and apprehension. "Soldier Boy," he began, "what can we do for you today?"  

Ben wasted no time with pleasantries. "I need you to look into someone. Her name was Y/N Y/L/N. All I know is that she died somewhere between 1945 and 1950. I need to know if that's true, and... where she is buried." The executive exchanged a glance with his assistants, then nodded.  

"We'll get our team on it immediately. It might take some time to gather the information, but we'll find out what we can." Ben's jaw tightened. "Make it fast. I can't wait."

Hours later, Ben's phone on the nightstand rang, jarring him from his thoughts.  

He picked it up, half-expecting another vague update. Instead, the executive's voice sounded more urgent. "Soldier Boy, we've uncovered something unexpected. There are no official records indicating that Y/N ever died."  

Ben froze, his grip tightening around the phone. "What do you mean? My father told me she died." "Your father might have believed that, but our investigation shows no death certificate, no funeral records, nothing." 

A mix of confusion and hope surged through him. He hung up to phone.  

From that moment on, Ben started to spiral. The encounter with Y/N had left him raw and vulnerable, unable to shake the feeling that he was being haunted by her memory. Payback, his team, began to notice the changes in him.  

They heard him talking to himself, having one-sided conversations that made little sense to them. His behaviour grew more erratic, his temper shorter. One night, the emptiness inside him became too much to bear.  

He found himself in a lavish hotel suite, the remnants of a wild party scattered around him. A few girls lay sprawled across his bed, asleep or too intoxicated to notice him leave the room. He sneaked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.  

His reflection in the mirror was a stark reminder of how far he had fallen. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair dishevelled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of cocaine.  

He poured some out onto the counter, forming neat lines with a credit card. He bent over, ready to numb the pain, to escape the haunting memories that plagued him. As he took a sniff, he felt a presence behind him.  

He looked up into the mirror and saw her. Y/N stood there, her expression a mix of sorrow and disappointment. "Is this the reason you didn't come home to me?" she asked, her voice soft but piercing. 

Ben froze, the mirror reflecting his horror. He turned slowly to face her, the bag of cocaine slipping from his fingers and scattering across the floor. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I... I..." She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his.  

"You promised you'd come back. You never came for me. Instead, you’re destroying yourself." Her words cut through him like a knife. "I did come back," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I looked for you. I tried..."  

She reached out, her touch cold and intangible, yet it sent a shiver down his spine. "You need to stop this, Ben. This isn't the boy I knew. This isn't who you promised to be." Ben sank to the floor, his back against the cold tile.  

"I don't know how to be that person anymore, it’s been so long." he admitted. Y/N knelt beside him, her gaze unwavering. He looked up at her, searching her eyes for the forgiveness he desperately needed.  

"I’m so sorry," he whispered. "You promised." She whispered with a sad smile. When he stood up, the bathroom was empty, and the cocaine was still scattered on the floor. A surge of anger boiled up inside him, a mix of frustration, guilt, and helplessness. He couldn't handle the whirlwind of emotions any longer.  

With a roar of rage, he swung his fist into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces, only to fuel his fury. He stormed out of the bathroom, his eyes wild and unfocused.  

The girls on the bed woke up, startled by the noise. They saw Ben, his face contorted with anger, and panic set in. He started trashing the room, throwing furniture, tearing down curtains, and smashing anything within reach. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood filled the air.  

"Get out!" he shouted, his voice a terrifying roar. "Get out, all of you!" The girls scrambled off the bed, fear etched on their faces. They grabbed their clothes, not daring to look back as they fled the room. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Ben alone in the chaos he had created.  

He stood in the wreckage, his chest heaving, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. The room was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Broken glass and overturned furniture surrounded him, but the anger was starting to subside, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake. Ben sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands.  

-- 

Ben kept seeing Y/N every now and then, mostly on moments or days he felt he had fucked up, even in Russia, in his dreams. The cold, sterile environment of his captivity was a constant reminder of his reality, but every time he closed his eyes, there she was.  

The hallucinations had become his only solace, a fleeting escape from the nightmare he was living. Today was no exception. As he drifted off, he found himself in a pitch-black room, the darkness punctuated only by the soft glow around Y/N.  

She sat on a bed, wearing the same nightgown she had worn the last night they spent together. The sight of her brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. He walked towards her, his eyes roaming her body, taking in every detail as if afraid she might vanish again.  

She rose gracefully, her movements slow and deliberate, and reached out to him. Her touch was cold, but familiar, a paradox he had come to accept.  

"Ben," she whispered, her voice like a soothing balm to his tormented soul. Without a word, she guided him towards the bed. He sat down, and she moved behind him, gently pulling him back until his head rested against her chest. Her hands stroked his hair, her touch tender and calming. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"Because you need me," she replied softly. "Don't you want me here?" He looked up at her. "Of course I do." The darkness a cocoon that held them in a moment outside of time. He could feel the rise and fall of her breath, the rhythm a comforting lullaby. The scent of her, faint and sweet, filled his senses. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking.  

"I'm sorry for everything. I should have been there for you." She hushed him, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his scalp. "I know." He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her presence wash over him.  

The guilt and regret that had haunted him for so long seemed to dissolve, replaced by a profound sense of acceptance. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope. "Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with longing.  

"I'm always with you," she replied, her voice a soothing balm in the oppressive darkness. "Please," he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. "Stay a little longer, just like this." She kissed the top of his head, her lips soft and reassuring. Her hands moved to his chest, her touch comforting. It was a sensation he had longed for, a connection he had been deprived of for so many years. Making him breath out a deep breath.  

He leaned into her, savouring every moment. His hand moved over her thigh beside him, the familiar feel of her skin grounding him in this surreal experience. He closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing, the gentle rise and fall that seemed to sync with his own.  

"I miss you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I know," she replied, her fingers tracing gentle circles on his chest. "You need to find your strength, Ben. You need to keep fighting." Her words, though a comfort, carried an urgency he couldn't ignore.  

He knew she was right, that he had to keep going, had to survive. But in this moment, he allowed himself to sink into the comfort of her presence, to feel the love they once shared. "Just a little longer," he pleaded, his hand tightening around her thigh.  

She sighed softly. "I'll stay as long as you need me, if you promise me to fight." Ben looked up at her, his eyes tracing every detail of her face, the curve of her lips, the softness of her gaze, the way her hair framed her face. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time all over again, every feature etched into his memory with painful clarity.  

"I promise," he said, his voice resolute. "I promise I'll fight." A small, sad smile touched her lips. "That's all I needed to hear." Her hands moved to his chest again, the warmth of her touch spreading through him like a balm.  

He felt his own hand move gently over her thigh beside him. Her fingers moved over his chest to his shoulders, it triggered something deep within him, a surge of emotions and desires he had buried for so long. Unable to hold back, he turned around to face her fully. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity. He gazed into her eyes, his own reflecting a determination that had been absent for years. "Something I should have done a long time ago," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.  

"I love you, Y/N" Before she could respond, he pulled her beneath him, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the longing, regret, and love he had. But as the kiss deepened and the heat between them grew, he suddenly pulled back, breathing heavily.  

He laid back down beside her, resting his head on her chest, giving him a sense of peace he hadn't felt in years. Her presence, whether real or a figment of his imagination, was a comfort that eased the ache in his heart.  

As the dream began to dissolve, he felt her slipping away, her touch growing faint. He held onto the sensation as long as he could, etching it into his memory. "Remember," she whispered in his ear, her voice echoing in the void. "I'm always with you."  

He woke with a start, the cold, harsh reality of his cell closing in around him. But this time, he felt different. The lingering warmth of Y/N's touch and the echo of her words filled him with a renewed determination. He would survive this. He would find a way out. 

-- 

‘Present day’ 

Ben, Butcher, and Hughie walked purposefully towards Mindstorm's location, the tension palpable in the air. As they approached, Ben's senses sharpened, and he heard a faint whisper, causing him to stop abruptly.  "Ben..."

"What did you say?" Ben asked, his voice low and serious, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Butcher glanced at him, puzzled. "Nothing, mate. No one said anything," he replied gruffly, exchanging a glance with Hughie, who shook his head in confusion. Ben frowned but shook off the strange sensation, focusing on the task at hand.  

They reached Mindstorm's hideout, and Hughie swiftly executed the plan to transport him out. In the midst of the chaos, but his plan didn’t work out.  

Ben acted with deadly precision, throwing a knife that found its mark in Mindstorm's eye. As Mindstorm lay incapacitated, Ben approached him, his features hardened with resolve. He pulled a bag over Mindstorm's head and knelt beside him, his voice low and menacing. 

"Who gave you the order?" Ben demanded, his tone laced with barely restrained anger. Mindstorm whimpered, blood oozing from his injured eye. "Please, don't kill me. I'll tell you about her...," he pleaded, his voice trembling.  

Mindstorm swallowed hard. "She's alive... Y/N" he gasped. "Vought found her in the '70s, after you asked them to find her. They... they kept her. She's a supe now." Ben's heart pounded in his chest, conflicting emotions swirling within him, hope, disbelief, anger.  

"You're lying," he growled, but a flicker of doubt clouded his mind. "I swear, she's alive," Mindstorm insisted, desperation colouring his words. "I can tell you where to find her." Ben hesitated, his mind grappling with conflicting emotions as Mindstorm pleaded for his life and claimed Y/N's existence.  

Despite his scepticism, a glimmer of hope flickered within him, a chance, however small, that she might truly be alive. "Tell me," Ben demanded, his voice strained with both desperation and suspicion. "Tell me everything you know about her."  

Mindstorm, sensing the gravity of the moment, began to speak, his words shaky but earnest. He recounted how Vought had discovered Y/N in the 1970s, how they had kept her hidden away, experimenting on her until her powers emerged stronger. He described her as a formidable supe now, with abilities beyond comprehension.  

Ben listened intently, each word piercing through the layers of doubt that clouded his mind. A surge of conflicting emotions washed over him, relief, anger, betrayal. His fists clenched, and without warning, he lashed out, hitting Mindstorm's shielded face over and over again. 

"You bastard," Ben growled between each strike, his rage unleashed. "You kept her from me. You let me believe she was dead." Mindstorm cried out in pain, the sound muffled by the shield, but Ben's onslaught didn't cease. Each blow was fuelled by years of grief, of searching in vain, of the agony of loss. 

He stood there, the aftermath of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience. The lifeless body of Mindstorm lay at his feet, a stark reminder of the darkness he had succumbed to in his quest for answers. As he stared down at the scene before him, a voice cut through the silence.  

"Really, Ben? Was that necessary?" The voice was achingly familiar, and Ben's heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he turned around, his eyes meeting hers, Y/N's. She stood a few feet away, her expression a mix of concern and disbelief. 

He walked away past Butcher and Hughie. Y/N followed him, once the men couldn't hear him. "Ben," she said softly, her voice filled with a mixture of emotions he couldn't quite decipher. "What happened here?" Ben tore his gaze away from her, his jaw tight with conflicting emotions.  

"I... had to," he muttered, struggling to find the right words. "He knew something... about you." Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her hand reaching out tentatively towards him. "Ben, what are you talking about? Who was he?" He shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. "It doesn't matter now," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

"What matters is finding you." 

---

Ben found out Y/N didn't die, his father lied, He had thrown our of his house after she didn't accept his marriage proposition. When on the street she volunteered for another one of vought supe trails.

After what seemed a failure, she discovered her power only years later. Her mind started to work in mysterious ways. She started to hear people's thoughts, move objects with her mind and if she concentrated long and hard enough she could project her mind into other spaces or peoples memories.

In the 1970s vought found her and captured her, after numerous trails and tests they considered her even more powerful than mindstorm, he was asked to help with the tests on her. But even he couldn't get a look inside her mind, losing his shit when she started to play tricks on him instead.

To keep her under control they decided to keep her locked up and in a coma, but even unconsciously she found a way back to Ben.

Ben eventually found her, in a cell beneath Godolkin University. Even though he busted her out she had been in and out the coma for the past few days. She didn't contacted him anymore since then.

Until

--

The bright light hurts my eyes when I woke up. As I tried to focus on my surroundings I saw a figuer hovering over me. A vague sound ringing in my ear. After a few seconds his face became clear.

There he was... Ben. His green eyes haven't changed a bit. His face was framed with a beard I, he looked mature, nothing like the young boy that left for the war. No, Ben had changed into a handsom man. I couldn't help but to smile when I saw him.

Even though he caused me a lot of pain I was glad he finally found me. Like I had been trying to do for the last few decades. My hand instinctively grabs his cheek, to make sure my head wasn't playing tricks on me. "Hi sweetheart." He whispered. "Hi." is mouthed.

He helped me up, I was still a little wobbly on my legs. No idea how long they kept me a sleep. I looked outside, seeing how the world had changed, I felt scared, unsure and worried. But it all disappeared the second I felt his strong arms around my waist.

With his chin softly on my shoulder he whispered "You'll get used to it. I takes time." The corner of my lip lifted softly. I looked over at him, and before I could ask him he spoke. "I did came back, too late, but I didn't forget about you." Tears welled up in my eyes.

"You should know." He continued. "I haven't been the man you wanted me to be... I made mistakes, a lot of mistakes. I fought, cheated, even murdered..." He took a deep breath. My arm moved back so my fingers could finds its way to his long hair. "I know." I said softly.

I saw his confused look. "I was there, you couldn't always see me. But I saw Ben." I looked at him, a single tear rolled down my cheek. "I didn't know... didn't know you were still alive." He said his thumb moved over my face. "It's ok, I forgive you... for anything you want me to. And I'm here now."

He smiled softly "Do you... Do you still want me?" I let out a soft giggle and turned fully around to face him. My hands helds his face before moving back over to his hair. "Ben, you read my journal, I saw it." His cheeks turned a shade of pink. "What part of, I'll always love him, don't you understand?"

My hands moved from his hair to his neck, pulling him closer, finally tasting his perfect lips again, desperately holding back a soft moan. He smiled when we broke apart. "So, what now?" I locked my eyes with his. "Now I want to do, what I wanted to do for a very, very long time."

"And that is?" He asked with a mischievous smile. I close the space between us, but didn't quite kiss him yet. "I want to make love to you and fall asleep in your arms, every night, from now on."

--

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[tat3sbbg]

C'mon-Kai Anderson x fem!reader

GUYS OMG I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR KAI???? HES SO FINE GOD DAMN

(visual for the story at some point ;) )

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:

Smut, dirty talk, Kai Anderson, p in v penetration, slight overstimulation, teasing, degrading, praising, fluff at the end

Kind of slow burn as well, Idk why. Kai takes a lot of time talking to Y/N, so that probably made it a slower burn >:(

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You were in the Anderson home, visiting with Winter. You were planning on moving in with Winter, since she was your best friend in the whole world. You had contrasts from her, though. You had neutral political views, since you agreed with things from both sides. You were a leaning democrat, though. She was a bit emo, and you were a soft, sweet girl. Your hair was blonde with pink bangs, hers was white. You had no siblings, she had two. Kai Anderson and Vincent Anderson.

Kai Anderson. He was, well, Kai. You had become pretty good friends with Kai because he was around all the time. He was usually downstairs in the basement or on the couch, doing whatever he did. You recalled when he used to have brown hair like Winter's, but changed it to blue. You thought the blue was nice on him. He had started going to the gym, and he would hang out with this guy named Harrison. You and Harrison spoke quite a lot, and got along well.

You and Winter told each other everything, and I mean everything. There was nothing you didn't tell her, except one thing.

You may or may not be interested in her brother, Kai, as more than a friend. Way more than a friend. Only one other person knew, and it wasn't Winter, and it wasn't Kai. Vincent knew. You had told him not so long ago when you couldn't keep it bottled up anymore. You remembered it like it was last night when you told him:

"Vincent, I have something to tell you!" You burst into his office, and he jumped.

"God, Y/N! What is it?" He replied, stopping his work to turn to look at you.

"I-I...I think I might have a crush on Kai." You said meekly.

He laughed. "A crush? What are you, 10?" He threw his head back, tears brimming from laughter.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting. You nodded, feeling ashamed.

You blinked your eyes, coming back from your flashback. Kai was sitting on the couch next to you. His short, blue hair was pulled three-quarters back with two bits of hair on either side of his face for bangs. He was staring down at his phone, obviously scrolling through spotlight on Snapchat. You stared over at him, then back down at your own phone. You opened your messages, not noticing that the person you were texting on Snap was Kai. You had innocently thought it was your friend, Amber. You had also recently told her you liked Kai, but had forgotten about it. You started typing:

'God, the things I would let Kai do to me, girl u don't get how wet I am for him rn 🤭'

You heard Kai's phone ding, he had set it down. You thought it was funny he got a notification the moment you sent that message to your friend, and put your phone down. He turned his head to look at you (gif at the top for visual).

"Y/N?" He asked, a amusing tone to his voice.

"Hm?" You hummed.

"You don't know? Seriously?" He inquired, acting like you knew something.

You shook your head, looking confused. He started to read the message aloud to you.

" 'God, the things I would let Kai do to me, you don't get how wet I am for him right now.' " He smirked, looking you directly in the eyes.

You blushed a very deep red, squealing and telling him to stop, burying your face in your hands. He chuckled, your poor mind was malfunctioning. You couldn't bare to look at him. The couch dipped as Kai scooted much, much closer to you.

"What would you let me do to you?" Kai whispered in your ear, running the tip of his finger down your side.

Suddenly, you heard Winter walking down the basement stairs calling your name. Kai pulled his head back, but didn't scoot away. He looked annoyed, leaning back. He huffed, obviously wanting more time with you. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Y/N, I just wanted you let you know I'm leaving for a rally." She smiled, and you stood up to hug her.

"Liberal." Kai murmured, laughing.

"Kai, that's mean!" You said, and you and Winter glared at him.

"Oh, and shall we speak about you?" He retaliated, giving you a look and you knew you should shut up as he teasingly reached for his phone. He never grabbed it, though.

You and Winter spoke for 10 minutes or so until she gave you one final hug, then left for the night. It was 6 pm. She would go out to a bar or club after this. The rally would presumably take a couple hours, and she and her friends would be doing other things after so she said to expect her home around 1 am.

"Perfect," Kai clicked his tongue, "C'mere, don't be shy." He teased.

You shyly took small steps towards him, stopping in front of him.

"Why don't you continue telling me the answer to my question earlier? How about you start with telling me a fantasy of yours? Whether or not I'm in it, I don't care." He requested.

"W-Well...I've always wanted someone to dominate me. I don't know, just take control of me, I guess..." You trailed, not knowing what else to say. You'd fantasized about Kai so much, you should know.

"Hm," He hummed, walking in a circle around you, seeming to be studying you.

"Nice ass, sweetheart." He said, smirking.

You were wearing a crop-top and tight, spandex shorts. He gave a slap to your ass, rubbing it afterwards. You couldn't believe this was happening. The man you'd been in love with for so long was finally touching you.

"Do you like me too? Y'know, like that?" You asked, making eye contact with him.

"Of course I do. I have for a long time, baby. You don't know how long I've admired your pretty little figure, walking around here all the time. So sweet, so innocent." He cooed, stroking your cheek.

You smiled. To know he liked you too was a relief. You thought he might like someone else. Kai had flirted with you in the past.

Kai cupped both of your cheeks, leaning in and kissing you. You kissed back, and Kai's tongue slid against your bottom lip for entrance. You decided to tease Kai a bit, not letting him in. Then, you felt a vibration on your lip from a growl. Kai's large hand came onto your ass, squeezing firmly. He smiled as you gasped, and darted his tongue in.

You whimpered, needing him more. He pulled back after exploring your mouth a bit, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"Did you mean it when you said you were wet for me, little lamb?" He whispered.

"Yes, I did." You said, your voice shaky.

"Do you need my help?" He cooed, and you nodded.

"Yeah? You can't take care of yourself? Can't do it on your own anymore?" He pushed, "What do you use on yourself?"

"A-A vibrator, I have a few..." You trailed once more.

"I found them, y'know. You're moving in right now, leaving things around. In Winter's bottom drawer that you're using, I found them. Not as big as me, can't fill you up." He admitted, but muttered the last part.

You nodded, staring at him.

"Do you need me, little lamb? Need me to take care of you?" He cooed.

You nodded frantically, almost begging for him to touch you. You saw a look in his eyes. Lust. He lusted for you, but you also saw love. He wanted you in the same ways you wanted him. You felt something hard poking your thigh, and you looked down to see what it was. It was his cock, and it looked big.

"Oh my god..." You gasped, whispering to yourself.

"Aw, does it look big to you?" He smirked, stroking your hair. You nodded.

"Lie down on the couch, on your back for me, and start stripping." Kai demanded, pointing to the couch and going up the basement stairs to lock the door so no one came in.

Music played in the background, the Weeknd. Kai was playing music before you came down here, the music ironically perfect. He came back down, walking slowly to the couch, taking off his tight, black shirt. He surprisingly had toned abs, and strong arms. He was wearing sweatpants, and stood over you.

"Pretty baby, so pretty..." He said, running a finger down your bare body.

You shivered, and his finger circled your heat but never touched it. You instinctively grabbed his hand and tried to guide it to your heat, but he pulled it away.

"Naughty girl, don't do that." He scolded, slapping your thigh open.

"Sorry, Kai." You apologized, not really feeling sorry.

"It's okay. You a virgin, sweetie?" He asked, sitting between your legs and finally running a hand on your heat, cupping it.

"Yes, I've never had sex before." You admitted, slightly ashamed.

"Am I the first person to ever touch here? To see you naked?" He inquired, smirking.

You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"I'll treat you gently, don't worry," He said, pulling the hem of his sweatpants down and letting his cock spring against his stomach, "You see how hard I am? This is what you've done to me." Kai whispered, hoisting your hips up to meet his.

He slid two fingers inside you, sliding inside you fast. You moaned and whined, bucking your hips up. He chuckled. His thumb came up to rub and circle your clit, adding pressure gradually. He started going faster and faster, his cock looking like it was aching to be inside you. You could almost see it throbbing. It twitched against his tummy, and you could tell he was trying to speed through foreplay. You came so close, then he pulled them out.

"You will cum on my cock." Kai growled, rubbing his tip against your entrance.

He slid in, the girth stretching you out. You gasped, rolling your hips and tearing up at the stretch. Kai waited for you to tell him it was okay to move, which you thought might be pretty uncommon for Kai. You expected him to begin moving immediately. Once you said it was okay, he started pounding you relentlessly. It didn't hurt, it was just intense.

"K-Kai, slow down!" You begged, but he didn't slow.

He kept going faster and faster, grunting. You moaned his name, yanking his blue hair.

"Hey! Did I say you could do that?" He scolded.

"What do you mean?" You asked, and Kai stopped moving.

"You will not do much of anything without my permission. You will ask to cum, to speak besides the safeword or asking me to stop, to move into another position. Is that understood?" He said firmly.

"Yes." You replied, feeling him move again.

He thrusted so quickly. You squirted without realizing you would, all over Kai's lower stomach and your inner thighs.

"Silly girl. I didn't say you could make a mess, either." He said, a fake amusement dripping in his voice.

You apologized then begged him to let you cum.

"Fine, I guess you can cum. You on the pill, baby?" He asked, feeling you come undone and knowing he wanted to cum inside.

You nodded, then felt a warm feeling in your womb. He had cum inside you.

"Thank me, little lamb." He demanded.

"Thank you, Kai..." You said, tired.

Kai picked you up in his arms, then took you into the bathroom and ran a bath. He bathed you, then gave you chocolate and water. He gave you his shirt, some panties, and a blanket and you two laid down in Kai's bed upstairs. He turned on his TV, and you fell asleep in Kai's arms.

God, you loved Kai Anderson.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Epilogue)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Awkwardly translated smut ahead. Nsfw, mdni

Roger: Geez… I’ll need to discipline you on not feeling something whenever someone touches you.

Kate: Huh? Kyaa.

Roger turned me away from him and placed a hand on my butt.

Roger: This is your punishment, Kate. No matter what I do, you’re not allowed to take pleasure from it.

(This position…)

Kate: Please don’t, this is humiliating…

Roger: Not gonna listen to some weak protests.

He had a firm grip around my waist and even if I flailed my legs, I wouldn’t be able to break out of his hold.

It was like being locked in a cage.

Roger pulled down my underwear and smacked by exposed butt with the palm of his hand.

Kate: Ahh.

(He’s slapping it gently…)

I’m overcome with embarrassment and my face heats up.

Roger: …Again

*smack* *smack* The more his large hand smacked against my skin, the more embarrassed I became.

(This is so embarrassing. And yet…)

I felt myself growing hot between my legs at this naughty situation.

Roger: Why’re you rubbing your legs together?

Kate: N-no reason…

Roger: Oh of course. There’s no way getting spanked feels good, does it? But if that’s the case, why are these getting harder?

Kate: Ah…

Roger’s nails teased at my exposed nipples.

Roger: Since I’m disciplining you, I won’t be as nice.

Sweet stimulation attacked my body as fingers pinched the sensitive tips.

Kate: Hyaaa…

As Roger played with my nipples with one hand, the other went between my legs.

Roger: Ah~ Look. You’re so wet down here.

I looked away when he showed his fingers coated with my arousal.

Roger: Will you get like this with anyone?

Kate: No! I get like this…because of you, Roger. You’re an egoist who always does stuff like this. Despite that…

Roger: …?

Kate: Despite that, you’re…special…Mmnn…

He grabbed my chin and kissed me roughly over and over again, leaving no chance to breathe.

When our lips parted, Roger brushed my bangs.

Roger: Why are you so cute?

Kate: Huh? Ah…

Roger raised my butt up so that it stuck out and plunged his thick fingers inside my core.

Kate: Ahn…

Roger: It’s not over yet. You’re gonna say something naive like you really like me again, aren’t you?.

Kate: Aahh…ahhh

You could hear the wet sounds as his fingers pumped in and out.

He continued pinching my nipples and the shuddering stimulation took over my body.

Kate: Roger…

Roger: Cum, Kate.

Roger patted my head as my body trembled.

Roger: I’m the only one you can rely on, and the only one who can do stuff like this to you. Don’t wag your tail for anyone else but me, Kate.

--

—The next day, my body was complaining.

Roger: What’s up with that posture?

Kate: I’m sore…

Roger: Hahaha. Well isn’t that just sad? Hmm, what to do, what to do…

Kate: Please don’t touch me!

Even a mere touch would make me want to pass out from pain.

Roger: So, why are you dragging yourself around like that?

Kate: Um, I heard something from WIlliam. About how you’re the one who negotiated for Emilia Winslow to be appointed as a secretary for parliament?

Roger: We’re still a long way from women having the right to vote, but it’s at least a stepping stone.

Kate: Thank you Roger!

Roger: Don’t wag your tail so happily, Kate.

Kate: Huh…By chance…

Roger: Probably.

Kate: You’re going to do stuff to me again!?

Roger: Yeah, it’s great isn’t it? You got another excuse for me to take care of you.

(This man…)

It’s annoying, but I couldn’t help but smile in the end.

I’m sure I’ll continue to wish I was strong.

Even so, with someone supporting me, I’ll probably be stronger than I was yesterday. 

Roger: Ah, that’s right. Meet me at 19:00 tonight at the entrance. 

Kate: For a mission? I thought Harrison and Liam were going out today.

Roger: We’re splitting a special reward. Let’s go for a drink.

Kate: But that’s yours…

Roger: We resolved it together, didn’t we? If you don’t wanna, then I guess I’ll have to ask Jude or Al.

Kate: I’ll go! Ah, because…I want to drink beer.

Roger: Hmm?

Roger poked my side with a smirk.

Kate: O-ow!

Roger: Hahaha. Dummy.

Roger laughed with a carefree expression as he watched me writhe in pain.