#top m&a consultants

[svodadvisory]

What do Merger & Acquisition (M&A) Consultants do?

Consultants and advisors are found on all sides of mergers and acquisitions.

These basically include investment banks functioning as mediators in big mergers, law firms performing due diligence and contractual work, and even change management businesses advising on post-merger integration.

M&A consultants are experts who provide advice and experience to organizations participating in mergers, acquisitions, divestitures, and other corporate transactions. 

They assist clients in navigating the complex process of purchasing, selling, or merging firms in order to maximize value and ensure a smooth transition.

What do Merger & Acquisition (M&A) Consultants do?

Tasks of a Merger & Acquisition (M&A) Consultants in India

Strategic Planning

Merger and acquisition consultants operate as trusted advisors, supporting organizations in developing M&A strategies. They collaborate closely with clients to understand company goals, market dynamics, and prospects for growth. 

They discover possible targets or purchasers, evaluate risks, and assess the feasibility of alternative choices by conducting extensive evaluations. 

M&A advisors are critical in integrating the client's strategic vision with the anticipated objectives of the transaction, laying the groundwork for a successful transaction.

Target Identification 

After defining the strategy roadmap, M&A consultants begin the process of identifying suitable acquisition targets or purchasers. They undertake extensive market research, financial analysis, and due diligence using their skills and industry knowledge. 

They give clients essential information to make informed decisions by scrutinizing the target company's financial health, market position, operational efficiency, and growth potential. 

M&A advisors identify potential synergies between the companies involved, assuring compatibility and increasing the likelihood of a beneficial collaboration.

Valuation

Valuation is at the heart of each merger and acquisition transaction, and merger and acquisition consultants excel in this vital area. They determine the fair worth of the target or client's business using financial acumen and analytical prowess. 

They give clients a thorough grasp of the value proposition by combining valuation approaches such as discounted cash flow analysis, similar company analysis, and transaction multiples. 

M&A consultants play an important role in supporting fair negotiations and assisting in the achievement of optimal results.

Planning for Integration

M&A consultants are critical in assisting businesses in aligning their business processes, systems, cultures, and teams in order to realize synergies and maximize operational efficiency. 

They address potential challenges, manage risks, and promote a smooth transition by establishing detailed integration strategies. 

M&A advisors operate as catalysts in facilitating collaboration between distinct entities, ultimately unlocking the merged organization's actual potential.

Why are Merger & Acquisition Consultants Important for Every Business?

Engaging the services of a Merger and Acquisition (M&A) advisor, also known as an M&A consultant or M&A advisor, can bring significant value and benefits to companies involved in M&A transactions.

Here are some key reasons why you need an M&A consultant in India:

Expertise and Experience: M&A advisors possess specialized knowledge and extensive experience in handling complex M&A transactions. They understand the intricacies of the process, including legal, financial, and strategic considerations. Their expertise allows them to navigate potential pitfalls, identify opportunities, and provide valuable insights to guide decision-making.

Objective Perspective: M&A transactions can be emotionally charged and complex. An M&A advisor provides an unbiased and objective perspective throughout the process. They bring an external viewpoint, enabling them to assess situations objectively and offer unbiased advice. This impartiality can help companies make sound decisions and avoid potential conflicts of interest.

Deal Origination and Network: M&A advisors have extensive networks and industry connections. They can leverage these networks to identify potential acquisition targets or buyers that may not be readily accessible to the client. M&A advisors actively search for opportunities, expanding the client's pool of potential M&A prospects and enhancing their deal origination efforts.

Market Insight and Valuation Expertise: M&A advisors stay up-to-date with market trends, industry dynamics, and valuation methodologies. They have access to market research, industry benchmarks, and comparable transaction data. By providing insights into market conditions and valuation analysis, M&A advisors can help clients make informed decisions regarding pricing, negotiations, and deal structuring.

Confidentiality and Privacy: M&A transactions often involve sensitive information that needs to be handled with utmost confidentiality. M&A advisors are well-versed in maintaining confidentiality and managing information flows securely. They help protect the client's interests, ensure data privacy, and safeguard the reputation and competitive position of the company throughout the M&A process.

Risk Mitigation: M&A transactions carry inherent risks, including financial, legal, and operational risks. M&A advisors help identify and mitigate these risks by conducting thorough due diligence, assessing potential challenges, and developing risk mitigation strategies. Their expertise and experience in risk management contribute to a smoother and more successful M&A transaction.

Unlock the true potential of your Merger and Acquisition strategy with our simplified approach to Choosing Merger & Acquisition Consultants Made Easy

Merger and acquisition experts can help you through the complex and ever-changing world of M&A negotiations. Their knowledge, strategic counsel, and steadfast dedication to unlocking value enable firms to confidently embark on transformative journeys. 

There are a wide number of Merger and Acquisition consulting firms in India, svod advisory is one of them. At svod advisory, we are your reliable partner for business strategy consulting in India. From legal advisory and auditing and assurance services to company secretary services in India , we cater to startups and SMEs, empowering their growth and success with comprehensive solutions.

[akgvgassociates]

The M&A journey: A guide to joining forces for a better future

Mergers and Acquisitions (M&A) are complex transactions that can benefit companies with increased revenue, market share, and competitive advantage. However, they also need meticulous planning, execution, and post-merger integration to ensure a successful outcome. That’s where M&A advisors come in, offering end-to-end support on deals, from planning to successful closure and post-merger integration. Read More: The M&A journey: A guide to joining forces for a better future

[fadingforrest]

[hurlingdown]

                     DRESS . . . TO IMPRESS ?

synopsis. in celebration of the most wonderful time of the year, the one piece men have prepared extra special gifts for you. zoro, law, luffy, ace.

tags. dom! reader, implied top! reader. christmas fluff, crossdressing, big muscly men in skimpy skirts, law in a nurse outfit, lingerie, heavy petting, dirty talk, kissing, horribly written crack (i inserted my humour into this), mentions of sex, fingering, cock-warming, rimming etc, don’t read this seriously, it gets progressively worse, spending the holiday season with them <3

a/n. this is my christmas gift to the one piece fandom. enjoy lol.

“merry christmas,” zoro grunted, and you felt a little dizzy from the overwhelming endorphin rush that went straight to your head and somewhere else. 

because this… this was something you would have never anticipated for a christmas gift. this was zoro you were talking about. the epitome of stoicism. had he been just… pretending all along? you would’ve expected something like an earring, maybe, to match his three. a love letter was simply out of the question… though a bouquet of poinsettias wouldn’t be over the top, if he had consulted nami in the first place. but this? this was just… breath-stealing. 

you watched as your lover rolled onto his stomach in his scanty outfit to show off the crystal pink plug that he had stuffed into his puffy rim, shooting you a coy glance over his shoulder. “well?” he hummed. “do you like it, babe?” 

“yeah,” you breathed out. “i love it. you look gorgeous. i think… i think i just fell in love with you all over again.”

he coughed, a blush rising to his cheeks, and yeah, this was something you were more familiar with—not the balmy heat shrouding your face, the dry crawl of your throat whenever you so simply looked at him, the hint of sweat building at your temples at the thought of doing nasty, sinful things to him. 

was he even real? were you dreaming? you better not be, because this was a meal you were going to spend your good time ravishing. 

“well, merry christmas to you, too,” you murmured lowly, climbing onto the bed after him, and he bit his lip with a shiver, raising his hips slightly to present you your christmas gift. you wasted no time in laying your hands on him, squeezing at the skin-tight fabric over his luscious thighs, giving his cushiony ass a small slap before smoothing over the warm ache. 

“gonna eat you out until you’re wet and sore, baby,” you told him, “and then i’m going to finger you while we binge watch shitty christmas movies together on the couch.” you licked your lips, pretending to think about what you were going to say next. “actually... might as well have you cockwarm me while we’re at it. and once we’re done with that, i’m gonna put it in your slutty hole and fuck you ‘til you start crying, okay?” 

“and after that too,” zoro mumbled, shifting onto his back and pulling you down for a soft, wet kiss that sent butterflies roaring in your stomach. 

TRAFALGAR LAW

“traf, sweetheart, have you seen my—oh.” 

“get. out.” 

“what are you wearing…?” 

“are you deaf? i said get out!” 

“hold on, okay? it’s not like i haven’t seen you naked before! just… is that a nurse uniform?”

but this was different from being naked. this was far more embarrassing. law looked at you with narrowed eyes, tone sharp with accusation that bordered on hurt. “what? you don’t like it?” he nervously bit his lip, pulling down his skirt and squeezing his legs together as though it would hide the very obviously aroused state of his crotch. 

“i do! how could i not? you haven’t even let me say anything yet!” you swallowed, feeling saliva seep into your mouth at the erotic sight before you. “you look so fucking hot, you have no idea. i love it, traf. i love it so much—” 

“okay, okay, i get it.” he huffed with feigned irritation, a small breath of relief escaping him as he shyly glanced at the floor, hands still clutching at the fabric of his dress. “m-merry christmas.” 

you took a few tentative steps forward until you stopped in front of him, and he frowned and turned away, heat rising to his cheeks. “don’t look at me like that. it wasn’t my idea, just so you know…” he swallowed when you put your hands on his bony hips and squeezed, subtly exploring the rest of his outfit with your eyes, and he sighed, relaxing a little. “hey, say something…” 

“sorry,” you chuckled, meeting his gaze again. “you’re just… beautiful. i love you. i love the fit. it looks so good on you… thank you for the christmas gift, love.” 

“and where’s mine?” he said, attempting to distract you from the deep flush on his cheeks. he slung his arms loosely around your neck, giving you an almost pouty look, to which your heart clenched at. “... don’t tell me you didn’t bring me one.” 

“oh, but i did.”

. . . you swore you tried so hard. but you could feel it creeping up on you, like a silhouette, surreptitiously tugging at the corners of your lips. fuck it. you just couldn’t hold back your smirk. you thought you were just absolutely brilliant, coming up with this idea of a gift. you knew he would love it. you just knew. 

“eyes on me, baby.”

maintaining sensual eye contact with him, you gently laced your fingers with his, pressing each of his knuckles to your lips in tender kisses. then, with a gentle smile, you guided his hand down, slowly, slowly, until it was fully pressed against the front of your trousers, right where the zipper was. you nudged your hips towards the cup of his palm, faking a moan.

“there’s your gift,” you murmured seductively, and watched giddily as his golden eyes widened in shock and arousal before a sharp, splitting pain on the side of your face knocked you out. 

“pervert!”

you laughed victoriously as you went down. like he wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black with that cute little outfit of his.

MONKEY D. LUFFY

“merry christmas!” you heard a deafening guffaw before something crash-tackled you from behind, and you fell onto the floor in a heap of rubbery limbs. 

“luffy!” you choked out a laugh as your lover wrapped himself around your ribs, still unwilling to let go. “baby, i can’t breathe.” 

“oh. sorry!” he retracted his arms and legs, getting off you with a spring. you sat up, and that’s when you saw what he was wearing. a cute christmas skirt and matching leggings, and he looked so ridiculously adorable you had to do a double take. he frowned at your flabbergasted expression, leaning in to inspect your face. “huh? did i break you? i promise, i didn’t mean to hit you that hard! wait, why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” 

he pat your head, as though that would fix things. you squinted at his carefree smile. hold on. what the absolute shit. was that lipstick? 

“luff,” you took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. “who dressed you up?” 

“nami, duh,” he sung, giving you a little twirl to show off the fit. you already knew the answer—you just had to double confirm. crap. just how much money did you owe her now? a thousand berri? two thousand? to be fair, for this quality of work, you’d pay her a fortune. “nami said you’d like it. well? d’you?” 

“yeah,” you murmured, half in awe, half in devastation, because this was a really bad time to get horny if luffy wasn’t in the mood. “you look really pretty, baby. i love it a lot.” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the horny. but it was just so hard to stop being horny all of a sudden. every time you closed your eyes, all you could envision was the horny: him in that skimpy christmas skirt, a bright flush on his cheeks, sprawled out on the bed underneath you… 

the soft press of lips against your cheek made your eyes shoot open. “huh?” 

the red colour on his lips was now slightly smudged, and you raised your hand to gently touch your now stained cheek in realisation. “oh…” 

“you looked consti- constipated sittin’ there!” luffy explained, in a much louder voice than usual, a thick blush covering his face. “i had to, y’knoow, help you out… in case you were having a hard time…” 

and well, there goes your horny.

PORTGAS D. ACE

“darling! you’re home!” you watched as your lover clumsily hobbled out of the bathroom, swathed in the most colourful gift-wrapping paper you had ever seen from chest to heel. “merry christmas!” 

you blinked. were you seeing things? “ace, honey,” you started, slowly, with a laugh. “know that i’d love it either way, but… are you supposed to be my gift?” 

“well, yeah, sort of.” he grinned, trying to make his way over to you in awkward steps. he winked, keeping himself just out of arm’s reach when you tried to pull him into a kiss. “just watch. you might even be surprised.” 

he raised a finger mischievously, and you watched as the tip of it caught on fire. he continued smiling his infamous ‘up-to-no-good’ grin, carefully bringing the small flame near his clothed chest. you raised your eyebrows, unsure, because as much as he was immune to fire, the gift-wrapping probably wasn’t... and the furniture in your house definitely wasn’t. 

“watch…” ace stressed with a hush, dramatically pressing his blazing finger onto the wrapping paper, to which it burnt a hole right through, orange flames immediately clinging on to the circular edges, rapidly widening the puncture. soon, his entire so-called ‘outfit’ was on fire, and you were starting to get alarmed when an eye-catching dark red slowly emerged from the burgeoning flames, strapped right across his chest. 

you choked. was that… a bra? 

“ta-da!” he shouted, opening his arms in full display with what could only be described as pure mirth. “fireproof lingerie!” 

what the fuck. you stood there, gaping, unwilling to believe. the rest of the flames gradually died down, revealing a gorgeous pair of red lace lingerie that hugged his crotch and chest in all the perfect areas, showing off his muscled figure, broad in the shoulders but tight in the waist, with thick hips and strong thighs. you could feel yourself salivating post-shock. 

“baby, you look really, really sexy, but…” you began, swallowing down your laughter. “forget it. why am i even surprised at this point?” ace grinned, albeit a little more sheepish than usual, rubbing at the back of his neck as you checked him out unabashedly. “ah, damn it. you look like a whole feast. i’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you tonight…” 

“ain’t that the purpose,” ace purred, shooting you a naughty glance through his lashes. “come and get me, hot stuff. and hey, guess what? we won’t have to worry about me accidentally burning my clothes off this time.” 

and needless to say, the both of you had a very merry christmas that night, indeed.

masterlist!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! SORRY IF YOUR BONER DIED 💓🫶

[fushitoru]

WE'RE COOL FOR THE SUMMER !

PAIRING: beach boy!gojo x reader SUMMARY: on your way to meet your girlfriends on your summer vacay, you encounter an unforeseen obstacle: parallel parking. It’s good you have a hot beach boy ready to help you park! maybe you’ll give him a kiss or a bj or two to thank him for his effort… WARNINGS: minors dni, fluff, smut, oral (m receiving), meet cute, not beta read at all, first fic kinda nervous

“I really don’t think I’m going to make that…” you mutter to yourself, frantically checking the distance from the car already stationed behind you as you back up. Your anxiety spikes as you keep glancing at the road ahead to see if there were any impending cars. If there are any cars that come while I’m struggling through this parallel parking, I might as well kill myself. That might be faster for both of us.

You bite your lip in frustration as you try a combination of backing up, turning the wheel, going forward, and turning the wheel again, concentrated on inching your way into the tight parking space. After being in the state of half being inside the parking space and half out, you take a break to bang your head against the wheel, cursing Shoko for leaving you alone when she insisted on catching up with you at the hotel when she saw a pizza place she’s wanted to go to. The Hawaiian pizza she abandoned you for better be really fucking good.

As you ready for yourself to struggle through finishing parking properly, your soul almost leaves your body as you hear an assertive knock against your window. You pinch your eyes for a bit, steeling yourself for the mortification you’re about to bear, and then turn. Your eyes widen.

Looking at you through your window was a tall man, hunched over with an amused smile. He had blue eyes and white hair---hair you would’ve normally thought looked weird on people because you refused to dye yours with anything but naturally occurring colors, but it just worked on him. Without making him look like he was a weird otaku cosplaying an anime character.

Needless to say, you’re nervous and feel your face burning up as you roll down your window. “Hi, I know that I’m taking up a lot of space, but I’m just struggling through parking this right now. I’m really sorry. They did not teach this to me in driver’s ed---”

“Hey, hey. Calm down. You’re okay,” he chuckled. Wow, his voice was deep. Not crazy deep that he sounded like those TikTok guys straining their voice for their thirst traps or anything, but enough to definitely be deemed a panty wetter. “I’m Satoru. Let me park your car for you.”

Oh. Well, that was helpful. Kind of overwhelmed, you choke out a “oh, thank you” and get out of the car. As soon as you open your door, you blush at the rest of Satoru----he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt in the sluttiest way possible with some shorts. You covered your nose in case you got a nosebleed at the sight of his shirt open, glistening abs on full display.

As he got in, you awkwardly stood by his car, parked perfectly behind you. You gaped as he effortlessly got your car out of the weird orientation you had put it in and parked it, a perfect distance between the cars surrounding it.

He shifted the gears to park it and got out of the car, walking up to you. “So…what’s a girl like you doing out here?” He places his arm on top of his car, effectively caging you between his cars and his bare chest.

You cursed yourself as you began to feel yourself burning up in his oh so close gaze. “Uh, I’m here on a trip with my friends.” You were finding it hard to find a place to look at. Eye contact was impossible with piercing blue eyes looking at you, lidded, and you would probably face charges if you stole any more glances at his chest. You decided to keep looking at his biceps.

He smiled confidently. He knew he was hot, and maybe he even had pussy vision that consulted him on what to do around you because wow you sure were nervous and going crazy down there. “Where’s your boyfriend? Can’t believe he left you to park on your own, baby.”

Oh. “I don’t have one.” His gaze widened imperceptibly, and, slowly, he lowered his gaze to rake over you. Meanwhile, you were freaking out. No one this hot had ever flirted with you, except for some frat boys that were trying to get into your pants during college. You weren’t such a fan of STDs, though.

“You sure? It’s hard for me to believe a pretty girl like you isn’t cuffed up.” You would’ve scoffed at how obvious he was being, but you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. And this was your ticket out of your dry spell.

It was time to lock in.

You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned back onto his car, flashing him a smile. “You know what? I really want to…show you my gratitude. Can I give you anything?”

Suddenly, you felt his face inching closer to you. His voice was breathy when he said, “Yeah, I can think of something.” He was looking at your lips, and you could feel his breath fanning your face. Clearly waiting for your consent, you pulled him in both arms to lock your lips together.

Satoru grabbed your waist and forced his leg between your thighs. You whimpered when you felt his knee rubbing you directly on your pussy as you continued kissing him. For stability, you started dragging your hands up and down his torso, finally having an excuse to feel up his abs.

You two went back and forth for a few minutes before pulling away, panting. You faux pout, trailing your pointer finger over his chest. “You know, I don’t really think that showed enough thanks. Can I give you a little something more inside my car?” You look up at him with doe eyes only to see him with a wide gaze and blushing face. He nods, and you grab his arm to drag him into your backseat.

“Aw, give it a little kiss, baby. It’s so excited to see you,” Gojo remarks down at you, but soon afterwards groans, throwing his head back when you give his tip a little kiss. You start kissing his cock all over, making sure to look at him as he falls apart over your mouth. Fondling his balls, you give his tip gentle licks, teasing him. And it clearly agitates him---he starts thrusting up, trying to get himself inside your mouth.

“Please, baby, don’t be mean,” he whines, “Be a good girl and open your mouth.” Done teasing him, you fully envelope him in your hot mouth, bobbing your head and trying to take him in.

He hisses as soon as he feels your mouth on him and starts blabbering. “Wow, baby, your mouth is so good. So tight and hot f’ me.” Blinking away your tears, you finally take your eyes away from his dick to look up, panties immediately sullied from the sight above you: him looking down, face strained and hot from the pleasure he was receiving. His abs clenched every time you took him In further, your hot breaths through your nose fanning his pelvis.

His hand comes down, stroking your head gently as you continue taking him in your throat. “You’re thankful, baby?” You nodded. “Lemme grab your hair for a bit, I’ll feel really thanked.” You bunch your hair in a ponytail, giving him the opportunity to grab it. He does as promised; he grabs your hair by the scalp and starts moving your head over his cock, setting his own pace with your mouth.

You can tell by his ragged breaths that he’s getting close; you start gently touching his balls again, which sends him over the edge. With a choked take it, baby, he spills inside your mouth. You, of course, take it in. As soon as he’s down from being overwhelmed from his high, you open your mouth to show him the cum you have on your tongue. He groans upon the sight, and you swallow it. He pulls you up and slowly gives you kisses across your face, and you reciprocate. After another heated make out session, you exchange numbers and a goodbye kiss.

Locking your car and walking out to finally enter your hotel,  you fantasize about meeting up with him later to do more debauched things. You were really excited for this summer.

a/n I might do more parts of this if people want more! I have some other ideas for jjk men that I’ve been dying to write so I will be doing those too :3

also sorry for any mistakes it’s unedited bc I got impatient and wanted to post it

reblog and comment if u liked it!

[chlorinecake]

𓂃 watercolor eyes | park wonbin oneshot

⚡︎ pairing: Stoner!Wonbin x Female!Reader | ⚡︎ word count: 7.8k | ⚡︎ genre: mutual pining, college au, smut (⚠︎) | ⚡︎ contains: awkward relationships, an original character + sungchan and shotaro, swearing, drug use/distribution, angst (?), mild dacryphilia, sexual tension mixed with fluff, kissing, unprotected sex while buzzed, heavy petting, oral (m. r)

ON TOP OF countless other obligations in your life, upcoming exams were kicking your anxiety's ass with the biggest fucking boots imaginable.

All you wanted was to take the edge off, and at this point, you didn’t care what it’d take to do that.

Introducing Exhibit A: Your closest friend and roommate, Roxanne, who so conveniently happened to be a junkie.

You brought up your need for a “quick fix” (so to speak) while studying in your dorm together one afternoon. Though, she offered to get you some help from another friend of hers who you’d never met before.

“Wait, you want me to go with you?” You asked in confusion, already prepared to reject Roxanne’s proposal at the idea of personally consulting her drug dealer.

“Yes, you're coming with me… What do you think this is, Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“No, but… I-"

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, ____,” she chuckled, turning the steering wheel as she trailed down a shadowy lane.

“No, I… I want this… I need this even, it’s just that…I don’t really know what to expect…”

“Then don’t expect anything,” she answered, giving you an encouraging smile that came off as more condescending, “Expectations are for pussies anyways.”

“Roxanne, I’ve never even met this guy before,” you pressed, hoping that she’d maybe let you sit outside in the car instead of actually speaking with him.

“Look, I’m close with my dealer, and as I always say, a friend of mine is a friend of yours.”

Cue your internal sigh of submission.

“Okay,” you said, straightening your posture in your seat with a feigned confidence.

“Uhhhh, are you sure with that ‘okay,’ or is it more like an ‘okay, I have more questions’ type of ‘okay’?”

“No,” you clarified, “it means what I said… I’m okay.”

“Okay,” she nodded, before giving you a brief synopsis about this friend of hers: STEM major, weed connoisseur, and art-hoe with a shy guy undercut.

Doesn’t sound anywhere near as daunting as the drug dealers on TV shows appear to be, right?

She pulled up to one of the apartment complexes a few miles from your university. It was one of the lower quality establishments, with the only oddity being how nice the vehicles parked outside the apartment divisions were, a sleek black motorcycle belonging to none other than the mysterious drug smuggler named Wonbin Park.

“Hey, take off your hood, silly, it’s rude,” Roxanne nudged, locking her car from the keys in her pocket more times than necessary.

“But… what if someone sees us?,” you whispered, walking closely beside her.

“Then I’m glad their eyes are working? Hell, I don’t fucking know what they’d want me to tell ‘em,” she shrugged, walking up to the front door.

“So are you acting like a nonchalant loser on purpose, or is this just your way of trying to calm me down?”

Roxanne laughed hysterically at your words, showcasing the sparkly pink gem decorating her upper canine teeth as she patted you on the back.

“We’re just here for weed, babe. That will help calm you down before I can.”

You had almost missed the part where she knocked as you got lost in your head, the front door suddenly opening and basking you both with a sudden warmth, contrasting with the cold evening weather.

“Roxie?,” asked the male from the doorstep that you fought with every bone in your body to avoid making eye contact with.

“Wonie?” Your friend mocked goofily, walking up to hug the boy briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”

“Not at all, my place is always open to you and your girlfriends,” he chirped with forced yet gentle enthusiasm.

“Uhhhh, she’s just a friend, considering how we’ve only slept together while clothed before… but thanks anyway!”

“Any time,” he replied confidently, walking up to the sink that was conveniently in his living room before re-lighting the dead bud of the joint he held gracefully between his plump lips, ashes falling from the tip before he inhaled a thick huff.

Some of the ash fell on his lower abdomen, and you were just now realizing that he didn’t have a shirt on.

Good thing you were used to the smell of pot by now, thanks to Roxanne’s inevitable habit of greening out every Friday night.

“So, what brings you ladies in today? I’d hate to break it to you, but I used my last condom just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, we’re actually here for a different kind of pipe this time,” Roxanne answered, blinking as if trying to communicate with him to ditch the wild language.

“Oh,” he said, doe eyes widening as his mouth hung a little, his bunny teeth shining right back at you.

Stop staring at his mouth.

Stop staring at his mouth-

“I uh… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he smiled softly, and of course you noticed because that’s where your eyes were glued the entire time, so distracted that it startled you when he reached to shake your hand.

“I’m Wonbin, but… you can call me anything you like, really.”

“It’s alright,” you returned, finally coming back to the present, “I’m ____.”

His initially confident demeanor stemmed from his assumption that you were more flamboyant like Roxanne, but he made note to be less vulgar until he could tell you warmed up to him.

Until he properly warmed up to you.

“So uh, yeah, do you want the usual, or were you thinking to try something new?” Wonbin asked casually as he leaned on the back of the sofa.

“Hmm,” Roxie hummed in thought, “yeah, my usual’s good. Just lay off the stronger stuff in the mix, though. It’s her first time.”

Something about what she said made Wonbin smile, wide and excited, peeking at you through his shaggy bangs with zero intent of hiding it.

Was he… flirting with you?

“Well, it’s my pleasure to be your first then,” he winked, getting up from the couch and heading to another room on his flat.

“You two kittens just wait here and I’ll be back with your stuff in a minute,” he claimed, which actually ended up being around an 8 minute wait while you and Roxanne went on and on about something you can’t even remember now.

The smile evaporated from Roxanne’s face as Wonbin returned to the living room while reciting the order. “You’ve got two ounces of-”

“I know the recipe, moron. You might scare my friend away if you say it out loud…,” she joked, feigning a pout as she hugged your shoulder, “so how much do you want for it, candy man?”

“It’s on the house this time,” Wonbin said, “so long as you bring me dinner tonight.”

“Fucking fat ass,” she spat, “what’re you craving?”

“Something warm,” he replied almost immediately, “with seasoned meat and a sauce… Maybe some rice, too.”

“Gotcha,” Roxie chirped as she pushed off of her knees to stand up.

Wonbin walked up to hand her the goody bag with such politeness, almost in the way that a child would give something to his big sister.

“Cool. I like eating around 7 o’clock, so you know when and where to find me.”

“Yes, through your stomach and all the way up to your greedy little heart.”

“Mhm,” he said with a satisfied hum, taking Roxanne’s spot on the couch as she walked towards the door. You and Wonbin were now sitting next to each other, his arms spread out on the back of the couch in a relaxed manner.

“Uhm, ____?”

“Oh, right! Sorry… I didn’t know we were finished,” you stammered, getting up from the couch to meet Roxanne at the door.

“Yeah, took him long enough,” she rolled her eyes, “I was starting to think he wanted us to spend the night…”

“Alright, get out of my apartment already,” he said playfully, waving a hand as if shooing you two, “and make sure to secure the bottom lock for me, I don’t feel like getting back up yet.”

“Whatever.”

Slam.

The door was closed, 50% locked, and you two were heading back down the staircase, cold air greeting you once again before you both got back in the car, driving back to your dorm room to drop off the drugs first, and then to the grocery store…

… to buy a bag of rice and a fresh pack of chicken.

“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?,” Roxanne asked with animatedly furrowed eyebrows, holding the grocery bag you two had packed Wonbin’s “dinner” in.

You ended up making a chicken roast with carrots, potatoes, gravy, and steamed rice like he asked.

“Here, hold this,” Roxanne mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear before she dropped the bag, your reflects luckily kicking in fast enough for you to catch it before the glass container could hit the concrete stair well.

“It’s as cold as a snowman’s grave out here, Wonie, open up!,” She yelled while banging on the front door, the little dream catcher that hung on the inner side jingling with her forceful hits, “Hellooooo?”

“You’re like Doordash but with the temper of FedEx,” you heard a deep voice say from behind the walls.

“But I only charge herbal fees for my services,” she added while crossing her arms.

Creek.

The door slung open, Wonbin’s muscular arms framing the entrance with a fed up look plastered on his face.

There were two people sitting behind him on the couch playing video games. A violent game, you’d assume, given the sporadic and sharp flashes of light that filled the room.

“Is there some kind of a secret password now or something?,” Roxanne asked impatiently, not as entertained my the view of Wonbin’s still shirtless body like you were.

“Oh, right… come on in ladies,” he said with a feigned smile, extending a hand to welcome you two back in, “hope you brought enough food, because I have guests.”

You followed Roxanne and Wonbin to the kitchen, where you placed the steaming bag of food on the counter before taking out the containers. That’s when Roxanne started grabbing dishes from the cabinet.

The glass plates clinked behind you as you went to search for a serving spoon in the drawer. “Hey… where are the spoons and forks?,” you asked while still looking through one of his kitchen drawers before Wonbin suddenly tapped you on the shoulder.

“I uhm… I keep the utensils in here,” he smiled shyly, just as he reached for the overhead counter to grab the silverware he kept in a box. Your breath got caught in your chest as you felt his hips nearly fuse with yours in the moment. Luckily, he couldn’t see how flustered you appeared underneath his shadow.

“Gimme that,” Roxanne giggled, snatching the box from him and taking out two large ladles, one for the rice and another for the roast.

“Gosh, that smells amazing! Can you put cheese on mine, pretty please?,” you heard one of the boys ask from the couch, peeking over his shoulder with soft eyes.

“Yes, Taro, I can put some cheese on it for you… even though I think it’s weird,” Roxanne smiled.

“Ahh, thanks man. Oh- and who’s the new girl?” He went on, placing the controller down as he was no longer interested in playing.

“Just a friend in need of a good time—” Wonbin answered, which shocked you to say the least, “—so be nice, Sungchan.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?,” The taller boy pitched in, “but does she even talk?”

The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound being Sungchan’s clicks from the remote controller before he got gunned down by a random player.

“Dammit, Shotaro! Why’d you stop playing? Now we’re tied with the other team!!”

“Too bad, so sad, bro. I’m hungry,” he chirped, getting up from the couch to help you bring the plates to everyone.

“Woah, who’s the big plate for?” Shotaro asked with widened eyes.

“Me and Sungchan,” Roxanne said with a satisfied smile, “we’re sharing.”

“Oh… you didn’t tell me you and Sungchan were on good terms now,” you said, breaking your awkward streak of silence, just now recognizing the taller boys face from Roxanne’s phone.

She always talked about Sungchan and his “big stupid dick,” as she liked calling it.

The pair stopped being cool with each other for reasons you don’t really remember anymore, but you’d take her sudden affection towards him over the violence you witnessed during one of her texting fits the other night.

“Shhh,” she giggled, meeting Sungchan on the couch before sitting on his lap, “I hope you don’t mind me feeding you in front of your little friends… unless that makes you shy,” she pouted.

All he did was open his mouth in response, savoring the taste of the first spoon she fed him.

It was a sickeningly cute sight to be honest.

“Sick and twisted,” Shotaro said as if reading your mind.

“Cry about it,” Sungchan joked between a mouth full of saucy rice, heart swelling from the way Roxanne cooed at him.

You and Wonbin were just now making it to the living room after getting some napkins for everyone. There was room left for the two of you on the couch thanks to Roxie sitting on Sungchan’s lap, but that meant you and Wonbin would be sandwiched together in the middle.

Great.

“Come on guys, take a seat,” Roxie said before taking a bite of the food, her teeth grazing the metal fork with a loud scrap.

“God, I hate when you do that,” Sungchan sighed, tickling her sides as she laughed uncontrollably.

“Stop that, asshole, before I drop this food everywhere!”

“That’d be a shame, this chicken is so good,” Wonbin hummed with a nod, stuffing his cheeks with more of the gravy.

“____ made it,” Roxie pitched, giving you a look.

Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you were started to feel pretty awkward.

You knew it had a lot to do with Wonbin, thanks to his cripplingly annoying quirk to not put a damn shirt on.

You did eventually warm up to everyone, even pitching in on some of Sungchan’s dad jokes.

Though, the stack of empty dishes in the center of the living room table seemed more alive than your spirits right now.

The inevitable tiredness that came with staying up late without a phone in your hand started to kick in.

“Hey, I’m gonna go wash up these dishes real quick,” Wonbin said, glancing your way for reasons you almost couldn’t process between the loud laughter of Shotaro and Roxie over whatever dirty joke Sungchan told about SpongeBob and Patrick.

Did he want you to come with him? Alone?

Yes.

By now, Wonbin was no longer in the living room, having walked to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run soapy dish water.

The scent of lemon wafted through the dimly lit space as you stepped beside him to get the dish towel.

“Sorry,” you said nervously, noticing the way he jumped as your hand grazed his arm slightly.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me,” Wonbin smiled, drying his hands before walking over to the other side of the counter, opening a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be blunt wraps and another bag filled with fluffy green.

“You just leave that stuff out on your counter?,” You asked, voice kind of quiet over the running water.

“Mhm…,” he started, “it’s not like the cops are just gonna raid my house randomly… unless… you were to say something,” he winked, putting a filler along the inside of the wrap before sprinkling in some herb, then tucking it tightly.

“Your secrets safe with me,” you said, the faucet squeaking as you turned the water off.

“____.”

“Yes?” You asked in confusion almost… he was already starting to use your name so normally.

“Pass me that lighter from over there,” he pointed before sticking his tongue out, licking the inner side on the blunt wrap to seal it.

His pretty tongue glistened underneath the kitchen lights, captivating you once again.

Fuck, stop staring, you internally swore at yourself.

He put the blunt between his lips, waiting for you to light the tip. “Stop moving, silly,” you giggled, holding his face in place with your other hand to keep him still as he playfully moved his head around to give you a hard time.

A tiny giggle erupted from his throat, too, making your smile linger for a little longer before he bid his thanks, inhaling a huff of the smoke and exhaling it through his nose.

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he cleared his throat. By now you were leaning against the sink with no intention of washing the dishes any time soon. No intention of leaving the kitchen, either.

“C’mere,” he offered, reaching for your chin in the same way you did to him earlier before inching closer to your face.

“Wonbin-”

“Just part your lips for me, okay?” He asked in a light voice, “I want you to try it with me.”

You nodded at his words, hesitantly parting your lips as he slowly set the blunt between the opening you allowed for him.

“Okay now seal your lips,” he said, licking his own, “and inhale… slowly.”

You obeyed his words, taking a steady breath in as the warm and cloudy smoke filled your mouth… then your stomach… then your senses.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, coughing at the way the smoke hit the back of your throat, to which Wonbin only laughed at your reaction.

“Good job, newbie,” he teased, running you a glass of water before passing it to you, your teary eyes staring back at him in a mix of embarrassment, regret, and intrigue.

“How was hitting it,” he asked, pearly eyes staring back at you.

“Just as bad as I thought,” you admitted.

“Yeah… they effects will start kicking in pretty fast, too,” he chuckled, proceeding to take a huff from the same blunt. “But,” he started, voice falling to an alto, “you know that wasn’t free, right?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, watching as he lazily cradled the joint in his two fingers.

“I only do favors for Roxie because we’re chill like that…,” he paused, biting his lip derisively as he tilted his head, “I hardly know you, though.”

You didn’t even bother checking your pockets because you knew you came empty handed.

“Aww, what is it, baby?,” he cooed, turning your chin to face him again as he took another huff from the joint.

“I didn’t bring any cash with me, unfortunately,” you replied with a halfhearted expression, already feeling yourself get dizzy.

He noticed the way you began to tear up even more from the smoke he was now gently blowing in your face.

“You’re eyes look pretty right now,” he smiled, staring way harder than he should’ve, “how do you feel?”

All of a sudden your core starting to heat up, making your legs feel as though you were merely hovering over the floor. You didn’t feel grounded anymore because you were overcome with a feeling of light.

“A little warm,” you started dryly, “but like… numb and euphoric at the same time.”

“In here?” He asked, placing a hand on your upper stomach, resting dangerously close to your tits.

“No…. It’s uh… a bit lower,” you said, reaching for his wrist before pulling his hand away from you.

That’s when you caught a glimpse of a colorful splash decorating his wrist. “That’s pretty,” you smiled, adoring the tattoo from afar.

“You think so?” He asked sarcastically before whispering in your ear, “too bad compliments won’t pay my bills.”

You sighed at his words, watching as he braced his body weight on the counter before your right hand found a mind of it’s own, reaching out to trace a line up his defined abdomen.

“Then allow me to repay you in another way,” you offered, poking his flesh with your nail a bit, “you like my cooking, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes. But you could try pleasing me somewhere else… ‘A bit lower,’ like you said,” he whispered seductively, eyes in a daze as he guided your hand by your delicate wrist to the center of his belt buckle, a line of hair leading to the bulge buried behind his baggy jeans.

A thick vein trailed from his thumb to his forearm before his grip left your wrist.

“Wanna take a closer look?” He offered, drawing your attention back to the colorful spot on his skin even though your first mind thought he was talking about something naughtier.

“Sure,” you answered quietly, taking his hand again to examine the design, “a butterfly?”

“A moth, actually… it’s a little more masculine if you ask me,” he added, the shadow of a proud smile ghosting over his lips.

“But it has watercolored eyes,” you pointed out.

“True… So it’s like.. more ambiguous I guess?”

“Maybe… or it could just be a beautiful man,” you voiced, stroking over his skin with the pad of your thumb.

You liked this.

The look of his skin, but more so the way it felt.

The way touching him made you feel.

“Uhmmmm, guys?,” Shotaro cried out from the living room, the energy in his voice breaking the stillness of the moment, “I’m pretty sure Sungchan and Roxie are about to start fucking each other in a few seconds, and I could use a little help in here!”

You and Wonbin made eye contact at Shotaro’s words, the same thought filling both your heads:

“What?”

“Just get in here, quickly! They’re taking each others clothes off!!!”

“FUCK, MY STOMACH still hurts like a bitch from laughing so hard yesterday night,” Roxie sighed, cheeks a flushed hue either from the three shots of brandy she just guzzled or the three comforters she was wrapped in on her side of your shared room.

“Yeah… I had a great time hanging out with everyone,” you said, only half-present as other thoughts floated around in your mind.

Thoughts about when you would get to see Wonbin again?

What you two would even do?

How Roxanne would react if she knew Wonbin had been stuck in your mind like gum on a-

“What the hell are you thinking about?”

Oh shit.

“Uhm… Nothing, why?”

“It’s gotta be something,” Roxie pressed, staring at you from across the room through her false eyelashes, “you were moaning in your sleep last night with that same look on your face.”

Wow. She was quite a fast talker for someone so tipsy.

“I was?”

“Mhm,” she smirked cheekily, trailing a finger along the knitted seam of her bed sheet.

“Tell me who you were thinking about… I’ll know if you’re lying, too,” she pressed.

“I was just… gosh, why is that making me so flustered,” you sighed, hiding your face in your pillows.

“C’mon, spit it out, ____!”

“I was thinking about Wonie, okay?,” you finally admitted, hoping it would make her shut up.

“Hmm…,” she started with a satisfied smirk, “you’ve already starting calling him by a nickname, I see… what’s up with that?”

“Nothing at all,” you smiled aggressively, watching as she spread herself out on the mattress like a star fish, “would you like me to call Sungchan over to keep you company while I’m out?”

“He’s already on his way over, silly,” she smiled, flexing her fingers around nothing, “wait, where are you going, anyway?”

“Nowhere special… probably just gonna talk a walk around campus. But don’t worry, I’ll wait for your boyfriend to get here before I leave.”

She pouted at your words, lower lip poking out like a baby, “Aww… stupid… big dick Sungie’s my boyfriend… ehehe…”

SUNGCHAN SHOWED UP shortly after you managed to get Roxanne back to bed. Praying that they wouldn’t end up fucking in your bedroom while you were gone, you put on a jacket with hopes of taking that walk to clear your head, even though now you simply hit a joint to calm your nerves.

That’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approaching from outside your door, just as you were about to zip up your winter boots.

Knock, knock, knock.

A a warm feeling erupted in your stomach, making your fingers freeze at your ankles.

Standing up to peek through the door-hole, you saw Wonbin’s plump lips first, before his bright brown eyes stared back at you.

Shit, why was he here?

“Hey, I can hear you breathing from behind the door… well, whoever you are,” he giggled, which made you giggle a bit too.

There’s no way you were gonna get out of this now, but you still counted down from ten before opening the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, letting him in, “don’t know how you got on campus, let alone to my dorm room, but okay.”

“I’m friends with Roxie, remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t remember you visiting here before… like, ever.”

Even if he had, it’s not like you’d be able to forget a face or presence like his.

“Nice shirt, by the way,” you teased, poking him in the stomach to which he smiled.

That terribly cute smile of his.

“Yeah I uh… wear them sometimes,” he replied, adjusting the beanie he wore before speaking again, “Where is she, anyway?”

“Pretending to be asleep so I can cuddle with her while she sucks on me… well… not there but… nevermind,” Sungchan interupted, walking from the room with now disheveled hair.

“Hell, I left for like three seconds, what happened,” you asked, observing the fresh purple bruise on Sungchan’s neck.

“Roxie gets unbelievably horny whenever she’s drunk for some reason, and I refuse to do anything with her when half of her mind is on fucking mars,” he sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda.

“She’s lucky I let her do this much… Wait- I thought you said you weren’t coming?” Sungchan said to Wonbin with a suspicious look.

So Wonbin was invited to your place. How fun.

“Ahh, I changed my mind out of boredom...”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded while walking to the front door, “I’ve gotta go get a lighter from my truck, but I’ll be back if Roxie asks for me.��

“Hey uh, me and ____ can go get it for you if you want,” Wonbin offered, flashing you a look.

“Really, I mean I parked pretty far away, but-”

“It’s fine, really, I saw where your truck on my way here.“

“____?” Sungchan said your name as if searching for your approval, to which you nodded which a humble, “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Alright then, go ahead. But take your time though so you don’t slip and break your asses…”

WONBIN LOOKED IN the roof compartment of Sungchan’s truck, just as the lighter fell down, slipping between the small crack in the seat.

“Shit,” he cursed upon trying to reach for it, “my hands too big to get it.”

“Hey, I can try getting it for you,” you offered, watching as he made room for you to take his place in the vehicle.

The drawstring of your underwear clinging to your hips as your shirt fell down your waist with gravity.

“Are you wearing a thong?” Wonbin asked, cold index finger hooking with the thin strap of your panties before pulling back and releasing it with a snap.

“Ahh, what the hell, Won!,” You yelped, retreating from the seat to swat his hands from you, “you’re supposed to be helping me!”

“No, we’re supposed to be helping Sungchan. Now get back to work,” he order you playfully, pointing back down to where the lighter fell.

You shook your head, bending back over in an attempt to retrieve the lighter once again.

He was only teasing you because he wanted to see more of your personality.

He couldn’t say that things were moving fast between you thanks to the inevitably awkward grounds your first impression of each other was cultivated upon, but he still wanted to get past the shy stage.

Skip all of the a baby steps and just start running with you.

Weakened grunts fell from your lips as you desperately fished for the lighter, your hips looking a mere second from bursting through your tight jeans given the position you were in.

“Shit,” Wonbin cursed under his breath, feeling a sense of warmth grow on his cheeks as he darted his eyes away from you.

“Oh,” you said with a muffled sounding voice.

“Um, y-yeah? What’s up?” He stuttered, still looking off into the distance.

“I’ve got the lighter… And some spare change,” you chirped, clasping the findings in your hand before reaching a foot down cautiously.

“Isn’t that stealing?” Wonbin teased, finally looking back to only see your foot slipping on the wet condensation from the truck’s running board.

“____, watch your step!” He called out with a slightly raised voice, his hands finding your waist to protect your fall, which only led to you both tumbling down together.

A strained groan erupted from Wonbin’s throat as his back hit the cold hard ground first, your body weight falling onto his center as your hands hit the gravel, slightly scuffing your skin.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed the entire time until you finally opened them, the coins you held being scattered about as Wonbin’s wide bunny eyes scanned you with shock.

His arms framed his head, nose a little red from the weather and a sprinkle of snowflakes dusting his black beanie.

“Are you…are you okay?,” he started, voice trailing off as it finally clicked in his mind that you were straddling him on the ground, essentially in public.

He couldn’t pin a finger on what it was about you that made him feel all shy like this, especially whenever he wasn’t buzzed.

“I-I’m… uh… I’m fine,” you stuttered, freeing him of your body weight and extending a hand to help him up.

“Thank you,” he huffed, a puff of cold air escaping his mouth before circling around your warm bodies, “I told you to watch your step….”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that those stupid coins distracted me,” you shivered, just now feeling the effects of the weather as goosebumps sprouted on your skin, “At least I got the lighter, though!”

Wonbin chuckled, both at your enthusiastic words and the uncanniness of this moment, taking off his beanie and adjusting it over your head before closing the door to Sungchan’s truck, pulling you close to him by the shoulder.

“Alright… let’s get back inside before we both freeze to death.”

AFTER GOING BACK inside, Sungchan had somehow managed to get Roxie out of bed, the four of you sitting on the couch while watching a random movie till midnight.

It all brought you a strange sense of déjà vu. You and Wonbin sitting awkwardly together while Roxie and her Sungchan sat like Siamese twins. The only thing missing, aside from some good home cooked food, was Shotaro’s infectious smile and a recreational drug in your system.

A soul booster.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts again, not even realizing when Roxie kissed Sungchan goodnight before he headed home.

Nor when Wonbin pretended to be sleep so no one would wake him as you slept peacefully on his shoulder.

Nor how he left your side once Roxie went to her room to sleep, reaching for the dust-ridden acoustic guitar hiding in a corner of your loft after a long forgotten ex-roommate left it behind as a “farewell” gift.

Nor the warm and woody melody he started to play from the other end of the couch, the gentle hums from his throat luring your busy mind from its slumber.

Your eyes opened with lazy blinks, vision slowly keening in on the lit joint that hung from his mouth, the sound of his fingers sliding against the fretboard and strings sending shivers down your spine.

Or maybe that had more to do with the winter air thrumming through your dorm room's cheap windows.

From the look outside, you’d guess it was sometime around 1am.

The stars were sparkling in the sky and the world beneath almost dead quiet.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Wonbin said in a half-whisper, noticing the way you were glancing at him before taking the blunt from his mouth.

“Oh, no… it’s okay, I was just… I didn’t mind…” your words trailed off to a mumble as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “What song was that? It sounded really pretty from what I heard.”

“Yesterday… by the Beatles,” he smiled, getting up to set the guitar back in its original place of abandonment, “it would’ve sounded even better though if I had a pick with me.”

He took another huff from the blunt, exhaling through his nose in a familiar manner as he offered it to you, “Want some?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking the blunt from his hand before inhaling the herb yourself, though, it was slightly different from the one you had in Wonbin’s kitchen the other night.

“It’s some of Sungchan’s pot,” he said in a husk voice as if reading your mind, “Don’t go too crazy though, ‘cause his shit’s pretty strong.”

He peeked at you through his wavy bangs, waiting for a cough from you that never came.

“Are you buzzed yet?” You asked after taking another huff or two yourself, playing with the smoke in your mouth before blowing it out slowly.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “don’t know how I managed to play a full song, but... yeah... I'm trashed.”

“It must be a talent, I guess,” you hummed at his words, just now noticing the lit candles sitting at random areas in the kitchen and living room.

Good thing, because it helped to drown out the scent of marijuana.

“What else are you good at doing while high?”

His tongue clicked at the roof of his mouth as a subtle yet unmistakable smirk creeped on his face, perfectly matching the rosy hue that began to stain his cheeks.

“You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he chuckled, widening the distance between his legs a bit as he sat.

Was he… teasing you?

Your eyes fell down to the blunt he placed on the ashtray beside the table, it’s lit bud ceasing with a quiet hiss.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t free either, huh?” You joked, shaking your head at yesterday's memory.

“Nope,” he smiled, “but… you still haven’t returned the favor from your first hit, so I won’t be too mean for now.”

Of course he’d bring that up again.

Right here, right now as you sat mere inches in distance from each other, both buzzed out of your minds.

“And if you were to be mean,” you started hesitantly, biting your lower lip before continuing, “what would that look like?”

He thought on your words carefully before answering, “Well, I doubt it’ll ever come to that anyway, so don't worry about it.”

“Oh, and is it the weed making you confident all of a sudden?”

“No, just the simple fact that you’ll pretty much do anything I tell you to.”

You scoffed, “That’s crazy talk.”

“Is it?“ he pressed, inching closer to you. "Kiss me,” he said, lips just a gentle wind's push from touching yours.

You didn’t budge, but your heart beat escalated all the same.

“Cute,” he smirked, his large hand finding the length of your neck, gliding up to your jawline as his thumb toyed with your lower lip. “I can see it all over your face that you want me, ____.”

“Then why are you asking for it?,” you teased.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it first… even though I already knew you’d let me do this,” he whispered, closing the space between you with a kiss, his warm mouth engulfing yours as the scent of his woody cologne filled your senses.

His other hand found your lower back, pulling you impossibly close to him as the sound of both your hearts beating and his needy grunts consumed you.

Much like the watercolor moth on his wrist, Wonbin’s gentle and vibrant masculinity couldn’t get any more precious in this moment.

This is exactly what he was looking forward to, whether he decided to guise it under the façade of a favor or be completely straight up with you, he finally got you right where you wanted.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tugged a bit, desperate to hear more of his pretty sounds before the shadow of a smile wavered over Wonbin’s face at your actions, up until he felt your knee bump his hard-on through his pants, causing him to hiss.

“You’re being rough with me,” he said in between kissing your mouth, his hot and thick tongue darting past your lips as the kiss become messier.

Louder.

“And?” You asked, pulling away from his lips before leaving a trail of wetness down his neck, paying extra attention to a spot that made him twitch in his seat.

“And it’s so fucking hot,” he almost moaned when your teeth grazed his skin, his back meeting the couch arm as you subconsciously grinded your hips against his pants, straddling him.

“Is this how you wanted me earlier,” you said, stopping your movements, “when we were outside in the cold?”

By now his shirt was off and your fingers unbuckling his belt with gentle clinking sounds from the metal.

“No,” he said in an impossibly deep voice, looking dead at you as he spoke, “My first mind wanted to fuck you silly in the backseat… but I couldn’t to that to you.”

You giggled at his choice of words given how high you were, shimmying his pants down a bit further before halting at the waistband of his boxers, palming him gently through the fabric.

“Why not?” You asked in a soft voice, contrasting with the fierce grip you had on his clothed shaft.

“Because... even though you’re being an impossible tease right now, I felt like you deserved better than to be fucked in your best friends boyfriend's truck,” he said with a shaky voice, gripping at the couch to contain himself.

You appreciated his consideration in your heart, but didn’t wanna say anything out loud, especially not while your hands were on him like this.

And thank God for these thick curtains, otherwise the whole world would’ve seen how red his throbbing tip looked after finally being freed from the restrictions of his boxers.

You started at the base of his length before gliding upwards, spitting on the head that was already leaking a bit of his early release.

You started to pump him slowly, pearly white precum standing out as it mixed with your clear spit like watercolor.

“Use your mouth for me,” he almost begged, eyes falling victim to a blurry haze as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the cushions.

You teased him a bit by letting your warm breath ghost over his tip, eliciting a groan from him as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

The desperation inside of him only grew from here as your warm and wet lips finally wrapped around him.

You hollowed your cheeks a bit, hands resting at either side of his hips as you began using your tongue to help you take him inch by inch.

“Mmm, feels so fucking good, baby,” he said with a strained voice, his hands finding your head before his thumbs grazed your lips, one of them prying to squeeze itself into your mouth with his already thick cock.

The sight alone was enough to make him buss, so he threw his head back, biting his lip harshly to contain his sounds.

You hummed against his dick, almost feeling it in your chest once his hands pushed your head down further.

He just couldn’t deal with your teasing anymore, wanting to feel you more than he could begin to explain.

He bucked his hips upwards, rutting into your mouth like a bunny in heat. “Aww, fuck,” he cursed, watching the way your eyes glazed with tears.

He always managed to see you crying one way or another, and he loved it every single time.

Your fingernails dug into his sides as the sound of your gagging became hard to miss. He released your head with a sigh, panting as both of your faces burned with heat.

He didn’t expect you to start pumping him again though as soon as your mouth left his cock, but you knew he’d end up missing your warmth in seconds anyways.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did that, by the way,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked back at him with moist eyelashes, “I just couldn’t hold bac- nghhh~.”

A broken moan escaped his mouth once your hands found his balls, gently cradling them in your hands while alternating with pressures, your other hand still stroking him.

“I’m doing quite the favor for you, Wonbin,” you said with a rasp voice, your throat a bit sore from his actions on top of the smoke you huffed earlier, but he figured it made you sound hotter anyway. “Are you sure I’m not overdoing it?”

“Mmm… no, p-please don’t stop, baby,” he whimpered shamelessly, screwing his eyebrows tightly.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname, and judging from the way his face changed, you’d bet he noticed.

By now, he could hardly keep still, the muscles in his stomach flexing just as you felt his balls tighten, just as he was finished, chest heaving with need as you rode out his high.

That's when you started to take off your jeans, tossing them in the corner somewhere as he practically drooled at the sight of you in just a baggy top and panties, a dark spot forming at the center of your core where your arousal started to leak through.

“____,” he paused you, bringing you into his lap, your warm core sitting right atop his aching hardness, “you don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to.”

“Well maybe this isn’t just about me owing you anymore,” you whispered, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “what if I want this?”

His cock stimulated you through your panties as he thought on your words, subconsciously rocking your hips back and forth.

“Then I’ll let you have your way with me…” he said with a rasp whisper, kissing up your neck as one of his hands massaged your tits, his other hand sneaking past your underwear to find your soaking wet clit, rubbing it slowly but with such a pressure that your fingers clung to his broad shoulders.

“I want you to make me feel like I’m falling apart,” he groaned against your skin, spreading your slick all over your aching pussy lips, “I want you to ruin me.”

You didn't waste any time with aligning him at your entrance, sliding down with ease most of the way given how wet you were.

He groaned as your tight walls fully consumed him.

“Fuck~,” you whined, feeling euphorically full as he started thrusting into you, hands gripping at your back as he became overstimulated inside you.

The drugs must've made you feel extra sensitive, especially with the way his tip fucked against your g-spot. You looked into his teary eyes, stoking his face as you helped to bounce with his movements, lewd sounds bouncing off of the walls.

“You’re being so fucking good for me, baby, just like that," he moaned as you clenched around him, too high to give a damn about filling you up raw with thick spurts of his cum.

“Wonie,” you whimpered, feeling as his hands roamed all over your climaxing body.

You felt every part of him in every part of you, and to say the least, it was worth all the awkward moments it took to get here.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up with your head resting on Wonbin’s chest, his messy hair spread about his head as you felt his breath faintly on your head. You probably looked like two babies with the way you were cuddling each other under the blanket.

It was a sickeningly cute sight, one might say.

“Sick and twisted,” you heard Shotaro say in the back of your mind, just as Wonbin groaned beneath you with a cat-like yawn.

“I still feel high,” was the first thing he said, making you giggle a little more than necessary before looking him in the face, the effects of your night together ever-present on his face.

“I feel…good,” you smiled.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hummed back, peeling yourself from his body as you blinked the tiredness from your eyes.

“You can keep a secret, right?” He asked hesitantly, voice barely audible given how quietly he spoke.

“With my whole life,” you answered, now making eye contact with him which was surprisingly way easier to do than a day ago.

He found your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “We should do each other favors more often… but… maybe not call it that.”

Was he initiating a sexual relationship with you?

Maybe something more?

“Well…” you started curiously, “what would you wanna call it instead, then?”

A grin peeped on his face that quickly softened when he licked his lips, giving your hand a squeeze once again before parting his lips to speak. “Maybe-”

“Fuck,” Roxanne sighed with annoyance, “you horny ducks didn’t blow my candles out last night… now the wax is no good,” she sulked.

“Oh, s-sorry about that, Roxie, we were smoking and it helped the smell,” Wonbin answered first.

“… wait, did you just call us horny ducks?” You asked with a mix of confusion, offense, and realization.

She heard you two.

Hell, of course she did.

“What? You think I didn’t hear Wonbin and his vocal ass practically singing as you did… whatever you did to him…?,” She rambled on, washing her hands in the sink before pulling some from produce from the fridge.

“Oh my God,” Wonbin cringed at himself, covering his face with his hands, though his ears were clearly burning red now.

“The blanket… you brought it in here, didn’t you,” you asked her, just now noticing that it was one she kept at the end of her bed.

“Yep! You’re welcome, freaks,” she chirped through a mouthful of raw celery, drawing your attention to the knife and cutting board she handled, “I’m gonna need your help soon though, ____. We're cooking for a mini get-together later with Taro and Sungchan.”

You hummed at her words, folding up the blanket while thankful that despite how high you two were last night, you managed to put your clothes back on before the sun came up.

“You guys should get cleaned up first, too, by the way,” she said, side-eyeing you as she diced a few green onions. “And preferably not at the same time, please... I’ve heard enough moans for the rest of this week, thanks to you two.”

⚡︎ a/n: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read this goofy lil piece I wrote !! It's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't requesting, and I had so much fun getting back in my creative mode again !! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as much as I did huhu !!

📍 check out my NEW RIIZE masterlist

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[hellishjoel]

on call

7.5k / pairing: cardiothoracic surgeon!javier peña x resident surgeon f!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Javier Peña - a shark of a surgeon - is the head of Cardiothoracic Surgery and you're on his service for the week. After letting you take lead on a risky surgery, you crave what else he can teach you. warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), doctors performing surgery but no gore, medical talk (open heart surgery performed, mention of aneurysms and paralysis), both Javi and reader are surgeons, implied but unspecified age gap (Javier is an attending surgeon, reader is a resident surgeon), sex in an on call room (rooms in the hospital where the staff can catch some zzz's), swearing, size kink, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, competency kink, (un)affectionate pet names, fingering, oral cleanup (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie reader is described having hair and wears surgical scrubs, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n A/N: FYI the only knowledge about hospitals or doctors I know is from Grey's Anatomy, so expect some drama and inaccuracies! beta’d by the lovely @thetriumphantpanda! spanish assistance by the talented @undercoverpena! banner made by me!

Any doctor will tell you that smoking cigarettes has a well-documented history of negative health risks. 

Smoking can significantly increase the risk of various health problems, including cardiovascular diseases, lung cancer, respiratory issues, and, most importantly, to a surgeon, how delicate your tissue is. It shreds during stitching, falls apart in between gloved fingers, and increases the risk of infection. 

So why does Javier Peña, the Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery, smoke? 

Probably because he thinks he’s God. Galavanting through the surgical wing in his dark navy scrubs. The attending flirts with every nurse who passes his eyeline, sweet-talks his residents, and charms each patient he consults. 

Beneath all that, he was a ruthless shark of a surgeon. Driven to the point of recklessness. Stealing surgeries out from under fellow doctors, commandeering ORs, and always proving to be the smartest in the room. He knew when to bark and, more importantly, when to bite. 

Javier Peña was a piece of goddamn work. 

The operating room is the only time he’s silent. Espresso eyes narrowed on the surgical field, fingers succinct and persuasive like he’s giving the most delicate organ in the world a compelling speech: to live, to keep beating, to pump blood until it simply cannot. 

He’s impressive, really. 

Standing on the opposite side of the patient on the table, watching him work, you nearly forget how handsome he is behind his mask. If you weren’t such a great resident, you’d be more impressed by his looks than his hands. 

But his hands… they were brilliant. 

Peña was steady. Every movement is filled with confidence; they don’t stutter or flinch. He operates with wonderful dexterity, switching between both hands, neither more dominant than the other. Instrumental and graceful, like a maestro conducting a large orchestra. 

This was his stage, the surgical instruments were his props and everyone in his OR was simply an extra. He was a star; everyone knew it. But no one knew it more than you, his third-year surgical resident on his cardio service for the week. 

His years of training bleed through his expertise, and shine in a way that makes you remember why you signed up for so many years of medical school, dropped top dollar on an education to get you here, and then granted residency at one of the finest hospitals in the country. 

You were good. Peña was great. 

As his resident, you must prove nothing but useful. He’s not a natural teacher, the way his brain drives allows no one in his passenger seat. But you’re keen on declaring on cardio, and you’ve been the resident by his side for most of this year. He doesn’t need your help. He can do this all by himself, so all you can do is prove yourself useful. 

You must anticipate his needs and next move, watching him progress from step one to final completion. 

But this surgery was unexpected. Unplanned. Most heart surgeries end up being accidental, arising from complications during a routine surgery. The patient on the table before you was scheduled for a general procedure but began presenting with heart issues during the operation.

Peña performs an aortic arch replacement. He starts with a #10 blade, making an incision along the sternum to access the aortic arch. 

“Retract all this tissue,” he mutters. 

It takes you by surprise because his OR is radio silent. He talks in his head, not to you, ever. 

“Me?” 

“Are you really asking me that?” His tone twitches with irritation, but you do as he asks before he can disregard and bury your anticipation. It allows for more exposure, and he’s back to work. He cannulates the patient for CPB, working through the right atrium and then the aorta. 

“Proper placement?”

You nod before you remember he’s still staring down at the patient’s heart. “Yes.” 

Doctor Javier Peña is the commander of his OR. Which makes you all the more confused as to why he decides to put you in the driver’s seat. Or rather, the hot seat.  

“Okay, we’re going to arrest the heart using cardioplegia purposely. What’s next?”

Your mouth is going dry; it takes you a moment to find your words. You should know the answer, even without having prepared. He just makes you nervous. “We need to use myocardial protection techniques to minimize… ischemic damage?”

His eyes snap up, glaring, cold as ice. “Are you asking me? Or are you telling me?”

You force down the lump in your throat and take in a shaky breath. “Telling?” 

He cocks his eyebrow in annoyance. 

“Telling.” You say more confidently, nodding before he sighs. He wanes his options in his head before his eyes start to soften. He must feel at slight ease talking to a resident who isn’t a fucking moron. 

“Okay. You’ll deliver the cardioplegia solution and monitor its function.”

You let out a breath of relief, perhaps too big of one, because Peña smirks and tuts at your shift in breath. 

“You’re not a complete waste of space in this surgical program after all. Congrats.” 

After willing yourself to bite your tongue, you watch him proceed with the arch repair. He returns to silence as he carefully dissects the aorta, amber eyes admiring each of the strong branches like that of a great oak tree. 

“Name them.” 

Eyes meeting his over the operating table, Peña waits. He’s testing you, pushing you towards greatness or failure. He wants to see where you fall—if you’re worthy to be in his OR, opposite of him, learning under his greatness, or if you’re a waste of his time and talent. 

“You’re a third-year resident, I knew this by my second,” he grinds, “all the books I’ve seen you read in the cafeteria should have told you this. Name them.” 

He watches you, it wasn’t just in your head - the magnetic stare you can feel from across the room that makes the hair on your arms stick up. He watches, he knows you’re capable. “Not gonna get by just on looks here, Doctor.” 

Dragging your eyes away from his intense stare, you loosen your jaw and line your fingers over each strong branch, starting at the trunk of the tree. “The left subclavian artery, left common carotid artery, the innominate artery-”

Peña raises his gloved hand, seeing the gentle smear of blood along his fingertips and palm. “Stop.”

Your eyes squint heatedly, feeling your chest tighten. “I can finish, I know them-”

“Stop, damn it,” he barks louder, his eyes shifting away from yours and across the room. He wasn’t listening to you; he was listening to the heart. Doctor Peña tilts his head to the monitor, watching the heart shift its beats. “Doctor, identify the pathology.” 

You shift on your feet, the nerves throughout your arms leave you feeling shaky. Something was wrong. “The aortic arch, it shows…” Closing your eyes helps you focus, ignoring the crowd in the overhead gallery, forgetting the patient on the table just for a moment, and only listening to the beat on the monitor. 

“Pretty girl, not so smart,” he taunts with a shake of his head, the beeping on the monitor pitching louder and echoing hauntingly through your ears. You wished this room would swallow you whole, but that would be you admitting to cowardice. 

Peña takes a deep breath and looks between you and the monitor, “Alright, come on, open your eyes,” he instructs, guiding your hand off the retractor and along the heart’s wall. “What do you see?”

The commanding tone in his voice brings you out of your head and back to the patient. The room wavers and it goes silent. You don’t hear the erratic beeping of the machines, you don’t see the movement in the gallery. Doctor Peña is in front of you, calm and focused. Because he trusts that you know what’s wrong. 

The aortic wall bulged out of its normal shape. It looked weak, stretched out, thin, and nearly translucent. You see the saccular protrusion, lips parting at the discovery. 

“He’s—was there an aneurysm? He had an aneurysm?” you ask with more panic in your voice than you had hoped. It must have been during the patient’s original procedure earlier in the day before you and Doctor Peña even scrubbed in. “We can’t do a repair or a replacement of the arch. We have to stop everything--” 

“So what are we gonna do, Doctor?” He probes, piercing dark eyes on you. Suddenly, your height shrinks, and you feel only a few inches tall under his gaze. He’s so much older and wiser, and all you can do is panic. “What, you can't figure this out yourself? Four years of medical school, internship, and residency, don't fucking disappoint me now. Tell me how we fix it.”

Our brains hold endless files of knowledge. A doctor is not only supposed to keep files on how to perform a procedure but also what to do if one is horribly failing. But your brain only knows panic because until you become a brilliant surgeon, all you know is fear. 

“Should we page neuro? A-A neuro consult, his blood flow isn’t reaching his spine. He might be paralyzed.” 

Peña scoffs and shakes his head, “Hoping someone else comes to save you and fix your problems? What if I wasn’t standing here? You’re on your own, kid.” he spews, focusing his headlight back over the heart. “We don’t call neuro, the patient can’t wait that long. Come on,” he whittles away your confidence, fire in his eyes. “Come on!”  

You can’t seem to control your anger, feeling it ween down to something brittle and broken. You snap. “Doctor Peña, respectfully shut the hell up. We’re gonna fix the aneurysm sac.”

“How?” He’s quick on the whip, and it feels like your lungs might give out. “Come on, smart girl, tell me how.” 

“You’re-You’re gonna use the sac to bring blood back to the spinal cord. He’s only paralyzed because the aorta isn’t able to send blood to his spine. You replace the aorta with a Dacron graft and rebuild the aneurysm into a second aorta.” It’s spoken with half confidence, but your eyes are fiercely stubborn. 

“Its only job is to send blood to the spine,” he mutters in agreement, hands already at work. 

“Like the freeway being blocked by traffic, you take a side road. Or, in this case, you’re building the side road.” 

He momentarily pauses his hands, pretty brown eyes searching yours. He stares you down longer than anticipated, and suddenly, the air feels charged. Heat tingles up your spine, and you find yourself challenging his stare. 

You deserve to be in this OR. You’re good, but Peña is great. And you will be great once you learn more from him. Him and his stupid fucking- brilliant hands.  

“I’m not building the side road; we are,” he corrects, and he asks the scrub nurses to give him the supplies for constructing the graph. 

Finally, his cheeks perk up, and a small smirk hides under his mask. “Suction, Doctor. Prep some 6-0 of prolene. We’re gonna need it.” Peña spends the next few hours teaching you how to reroute the aneurysm and restore blood flow, allowing you to reconstruct and place the graph. 

You and Peña are a well-oiled machine. He lets you take the lead under his supervision. It’s impossible not to scream inside your head about this moment. You feel like you’re floating, no longer panicking. Your fingers weave with an indescribable amount of delicacy. It feels like braiding hair, the way your fingers know where to move, the muscle movements natural despite never having done this procedure before. 

What a fucking high. And you’ve always been such an adrenaline junkie. 

Once word got out around the hospital that Peña was doing this incredible and unexpected surgery, the gallery was all standing and fighting for room to glance out the over-viewing window. And you were there, across from him the entire time. Every surgeon in your class is sitting in the gallery, damn jealous of you.

Peña watches you close up the patient and says nothing; you were perfection. 

You huff loudly upon completion, watching as Peña wipes his forearm across the sweat on his forehead. You despise him in this moment. Thankfulness fights your need for social justice. He can’t talk to you like that, belittle you, squish whatever confidence you had left. But you’re exhausted now and don’t feel like snapping in front of half the hospital. 

“We won’t know if he has full function until he’s awake. Page neuro and tell them they have a post-consult waiting for them.” His voice drips with exhaustion, rolling out his shoulders as he speaks, and you can’t help but watch as the broad muscles move under his shirt, tan skin now visible after the medical gown has been removed. 

Trailing behind him out of the OR, you strip your surgical gloves, gown, and mask in the trash as you try to calm your adrenaline. It never stopped beating; your heart, the strong and beautiful organ that it was, never stopped pounding. You can hear it in your ears, in your pulse, even thudding excitedly against your neck. 

It beat for your ambition, it beat for Doctor Peña. He’d never see you as his equal. Hell, he’d never see anyone as his equal. But today, he taught you. And you can’t think why. He has barely done his duty all year despite working at a teaching hospital where the residents are nearly quizzed on the minute by their attendings. 

Peña didn’t think anyone was worth his time, but he saw something in you today. Despite being thankful, you can’t help the anger you feel bubbling up as he smirks at you from down the hall. 

“What the hell, Peña?” 

Oh shit. 

The head of neurosurgery stomps down the hall in his navy blue scrubs, graying hair tucked under a scrub cap decorated by EEG waveforms. His eyes are narrowed on Peña, pointed finger at the ready. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? Your patient goes into paralysis and you don’t think to page me?”

Peña merely shrugs and sets his hands on his hips. “I did think to page you. And decided not to.” 

The head of neurosurgery scoffs in disbelief, raising his voice to a shout. “You’re too fucking- cocky for your own good! I could have done an assessment, they could gotten spinal cord ischemia- and a third-year resident of all people performing that surgery? What the hell were you thinking?!”

Fuck. Now you were brought into this, and standing at the end of the hallway couldn’t be farther away. Peña was as solid as stone, heat didn’t faze him. “She had it under control. She was perfect.”

Perfect. 

Neuro seems to smirk lightly, brain doctors who love to play mind games. “You two screwin’ around in the on-call rooms, too? Is that why you let her in on that surgery a fifth year couldn’t even perform? You pull that shit again, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what?”

Peña steps closer, narrowing his eyes on the short little man whose bark was louder than his bite. 

Neuro stutters for a moment, his posture shrinking. You can’t help but smirk, almost a little lightheaded at the way he steps in to protect your credibility. Peña was a dangerous surgeon to stick around with. His arrogance, next to his skills in the OR, could be taught by accident. 

Neuro grabs onto a slipping rope and sniffs as he glances around at the onlookers in the hallway. “Don’t think I won’t tell the Chief about what happened today. You and her are on thin ice.”

Peña smirks and pats his shoulder in a futile manner, pulling loose his scrub cap and running a hand through his jet-black tresses. “She had it under control. I wouldn’t have let her do anything she couldn’t handle. And if you talk about her like that again, I’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth out.” 

Peña’s already walking away, back to the angry little man. 

Your stomach bubbles with something unfamiliar, slipping behind the elbow of the wall and taking a shaky breath. You can’t feel anything besides the buzzing in your brain and the tremble in your hands. 

Doctor Javier Peña was defending your fucking honor. 

In Javier’s eyes, any surgeon can walk into an operating room and follow the procedure's already-written steps. They can rehearse, practice, and prep all they want. But the beauty of surgery was that it was both a science and an art. 

The heart was such an intricate, unpredictable thing. Healthy one minute, broken the next. 

Javier loves to read, but only for the plot twist endings—the ones you don’t see coming—which add richness to the story and make you fall deeper into the mystery. 

That’s why he loves the heart because it isn’t easy. It’s a challenge. He also loves that hearts make him feel special because not everyone can handle operating on a heart. That’s why people choose easier specialties. Cardio was hardcore. Javier was hardcore. 

Despite how difficult a cardio surgery can be, the surgeon must be gentle. Going too fast leads to mistakes. 

As if driving on black ice, you can’t twist your wheel too fast, or you’ll spin out and crash.  He was like that during his internship, even into his residency, but he carried raw talent that no one else could compare to. He was the star of his class, a surgeon who felt like he was more than a doctor, more than a God. A preacher to the soulless, a guide to the lost. He was his patient’s light at the end of the tunnel. He saved their fucking lives. 

In his eyes, heart surgeons needed to be sharks. He never met a shark who wasn’t fierce and damn near evil. It’s critical to success; to be a shark in the water, eager to see crimson. 

You were no shark—not yet. But your drive, dedication to the art, and willingness to work with him set you apart. He knows he’s not easy. But he’s never liked easy anyway. 

Javier slowly slumps down onto the edge of an on-call bed, smacking the light switch so damn hard that he thought he broke it. The room sinks into darkness, a velvet blanket of blue from the slight night sky slipping past the blinds. 

He was exhausted after today, the hours of his day stolen by back-to-back surgeries. His back ached, and his knees were screaming at him. But the comfort of a bed wasn’t all that he craved. 

You were brilliant, purring like a kitten whenever Javier stroked your ego. A younger colleague impressed him for the first time in months. 

God, you were young. What—ten years his junior? More? 

His face fell into his hands, heat flushing into his stomach at the thought of you. 

When he’s in surgery, the heart is all he can think about. But your eyes were on him for hours, watching him, learning from him—God, the things he could teach you. 

Suddenly, the door clicks open, and light floods the room, causing Javi to drop his head and squint. 

“We need to speak, Doctor Peña,” your silken voice evokes a sense of long-lost courage.  

You’re the last person who should be in his on-call room.

He groans and stands, eyes cast on your hand still nervously caught on the door handle. “Not now.” 

“Yes, now,” your voice wavers as you click the lock and cross your arms. His eyes drag over your body, hugged by the comfort of your soft blue scrubs. He can tell it’s taking everything in your body to control your temper, as he is still technically your boss. “You can’t just belittle me in front of the entire OR. No more calling me princess, no more calling me pretty. I’m a lot more than those pathetic superficial names, and you know it.” 

Javier runs his fingers down his nose, mutters something incoherent, and plants his hands on his hips before curtly jerking his head expectantly. “I said not now.” 

“You push me, you push me around, you push me in the OR, you just don’t stop-”

He snaps. 

“I push you to be great!” His brown eyes nearly turn obsidian as he locks you in his gaze. “You’ll be a better doctor when I’m done with you. You should be thanking me.”

You scoff indignantly and throw up your hands in frustration. You’re so fucking cute when you’re upset. “Thanking you?”

“Yeah. Thanking me. My ass is on the burner because I let you perform that surgery.”

“The one not even fifth-year residents could perform?”  

Peña pauses, his jaw shifting from left to right as he glances at the room's corner. “You heard all that, huh?”

There’s a lull, one that signifies you both know that he stepped in to defend his choices in the OR; specifically defending you. He watches as you slowly nod, pulling your hand off the doorknob and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You didn’t have to do that. Now it looks like you favor me. I’m gonna get chewed out by the other surgeons, not to mention my entire class is going to think I’m sleeping with you.” 

Pena shrugs and purses his lips. “Let ‘em.”

He watches as your lips part, taken aback by his words. After a few doe-eyed blinks from you, the room falls out of focus, and it doesn’t feel like he’s standing in the hospital anymore. 

Javi imagines you in places he shouldn’t. At his place, in his apartment. On the couch. In his bed. He thinks about how different you’d look in the light of day, your body curved by jeans or even a sundress if the weather allowed. He’d be privy to the freckles on your back and shoulders, the dips of your hips, the slope of your body he wants to memorize with his eyes closed. 

But fantasizing wasn’t enough. 

“Let ‘em,” he mutters, low, and enclosing the space between your bodies. “If they already think that, let ‘em. Fuck ‘em.” 

Your face visibly softens, and your head naturally leaning into his hand that rests on your cheek. 

“I want you to teach me,” you whisper to him. And it’s so fucking soft, so sweet dripping from your lips, almost whining with need. 

He slowly nods as the room falls silent, Javi’s opposite hand coming to your hip, flushing your body against his. 

“Okay, cariño, I’ll teach you.” 

“Teach me,” you plead again, your chest heaving with anticipation. His eyes fall to the way your breasts protrude with each breath you take in your scrubs. The emotion that stirs in the room is enough to start a full-blown hurricane. 

Javi’s hands fall to the hem of your top, and you raise your arms swiftly, so pliant to his touches. But that’s your job, to anticipate his needs. 

The sight of your skin alone is enough to make his shoulders tighten, seeing you all pretty and exposed. A knot begins to grow in his stomach. But no, you weren’t done yet. 

“Please, Doctor Peña,”

No, don’t fucking beg. 

“I want you to use your hands and teach me.” Insistently, your fingers dip into your scrub bottoms, his eyes catching the pretty black band of your panties before the material is pooled on the floor. 

You stand there with soft eyes, wide and expecting. The longer he stands here, not touching you, it damn near looks like he’s hurting your feelings. But he’s not stupid enough to leave you abandoned. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, closing the distance in a matter of a second, his hands on your hips as he yanks your body into his firm front.

The kiss is tangled and heated, desperate and needy, so different compared to the subtle dance you both played before. But now it’s so obvious the pure need that consumes you both. 

Your small fists clutch his broad shoulders, and you moan into his mouth purely at the muscle built into his toned body. He licks into your mouth, and all he can think is how fucking sweet you taste. And how your pussy probably tastes just as sweet. 

Your fingers blindly reach for the light switch, flicking them off and sinking you into midnight once again. 

Javi tuts and shakes his head, breaking the kiss as he glares down at you. “You wanna see my hands work, cielo? Then you gotta watch.” He mutters as he flicks the switch back on, guiding you into the lower bunk of the on-call beds. 

He likes the way your hand slips from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers gentle at first before clutching at the hair on his nape. 

Javi lets out an unexpected moan into your mouth as his body slots perfectly between your legs. His rough and calloused hands explore the smooth skin of your outer thighs. He squeezes and cradles the flesh with the perfect balance of strength and delicacy, the coarse hairs of his mustache scratching your skin as he presses kisses over your exposed breasts. 

He craves every breath that you take because of him, because of his actions. Your reactions are honest and instinctual, watching as you bite down on your lip because God forbid anyone saw you sneak into his room. 

Javi’s fingers are just as you expect, expertise as he unclips your bra with ease. He snatches away the black material, your nipples sensitive to the cool air as they peak under his eyeline. 

“Christ,” he mutters, his hot mouth on them in an instant. His tongue circles them meticulously before he suckles, lifting his head and watching as your breast is tugged into his mouth. A whine slips past your lips and he feels your legs tug tighter around his waist. It’s enough to get him hard, the way you won’t let him go, because this feels way too fucking good to stop. 

“Doctor Peña-”

“Javi,” he mutters upon letting your nipple go with a pop, moving to the other and showing it just as much affection, letting his teeth gently nip at the sensitive peak. “So fuckin’ pretty, princesa,” he mutters before sucking on a spot just above your breast, a place to mark his territory. 

You gasp at the feeling of his hot mouth on your skin, goosebumps flooding to his touches. You glance down through barely-open eyes as the skin changes color, from red to a soft purple as he draws blood to the surface. His teeth marks are still there even after he leaves, a smirk on his face as he slips lower to between your legs. 

“Javi, please,” you muster up, trying to regather air in your lungs. 

He shifts to his knees, one arm straight and hand planted beside your head as he hovers over you, the other finally slipping between your legs. Your lips part as he slowly swipes two up your center, seeing what makes you tick. 

His smirk widens as your eyes roll to the back of your head, biting down on the plush of your lower lip again to conceal a moan that surely would have slipped. He spreads you, letting his thumb pads delicately circle your clit experimentally. “So fucking wet for me.” 

Just as a moan emits, his hand is clamped over your mouth. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he degrades, your eyes wide as the circles continue achingly. “Into my hand, baby girl, don’t want anyone else to hear you. Just me.” 

Your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb experiments on you, and you realize he’s learning. Everything is about learning for him. He learns and studies the heart, now he’s studying what makes you fucking soaked for him. 

The slow circles are enough to get you going, but as he continues to pick up the pace, he realizes you need more more more. 

His thumb moves faster and surfs the edges, it makes you twitch under him. His smirk widens as two of his fingers glide up and down your wet center, your hips nudging upward with neediness. 

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters, but you’re so scared to let out a peep. In this fog, you can’t even remember if you locked the door, and now your heart is pounding against your chest, the beautiful muscle that it is. 

“Come on,” he says goadingly, pushing two fingers into your entrance. Your eyes blow wide as you let out a soft sigh into his palm, followed by a wimpy whine. “Give it to me,” he mutters as his fingers start to move through your tight heat. He’s trying to find it, working himself deeper and deeper, curling them just right and finally-

His hand clamps harder down on your mouth as you let out a loud cry, eyes shutting hard as your body writhes against him. You leak out against his fingers, hearing them squish with your arousal as he smirks. “That’s fuckin’ right, feels so good to let it out, doesn’t it? You can gimme more,” he encourages, and you don’t think you fucking can. 

But he works against you so feverishly, the combination of his thumb on your clit and fingers fucking your entrance, once the seal was broken, it was hard to contain it. 

“Fuck!” You cry out as he scissors you open, separating his fingers and forcing your entrance to work itself wider for him. The noises are obscene, soaking his fingers as he continues to plunge so deeply into you. Your hand shakily reaches up to the bicep bulging beside your head, nails sinking into his tan flesh. 

His movements have your thighs beginning to shake as he searches, still learning, looking for that one spot that has you breathless. Then it fucking sucks the air from your lungs. 

You gasp against his hand and clutch his wrist desperately, feeling him massage the sweet, spongy part inside of you that has sparks going off at the base of your spine. Your eyes begin to water at the overwhelmingness of it all, him and his stupid fucking perfect hands. 

“Javi,” you pant against his mouth, because something indescribable is building. Your back arches against his body. He doesn’t even need to look at what he’s doing, he’s so distracted in watching you unfold. 

Finally, it’s all too much, and he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You can’t help but bite into his palm as you sob against his hand, his fingers so perfect inside of you, leading you to the crescendo of your orgasm. The build leaves you lightheaded, your thighs twitching against his hips as he purrs your name. 

“Just wanna little taste,” he mutters as he finally slips his hand from your mouth, still feeling the burn of your pretty bite. His chest lands on the mattress, and you sit up a bit to allow him space. 

Javi’s arms wrap around your legs, hands now on your inner thighs as he helps spread you open. You whimper, still so sensitive that you nearly twitch away as he moves in. “Aww, come here, sweet girl. Know you taste so good, don’t you?” 

You weakly nod and sink back into the mattress, your eyes falling closed as he slowly sponges kisses to your warm inner thighs. Your hole still puckers for the loss of his fingers, a groan leaving his throat at the sight. He teasingly flicks his tongue against your twitching clit, and it’s enough to make your entire body seize. 

“So fucking sensitive,” he mutters adoringly, spreading your labia and letting his tongue flush against the juices that soak his tongue. He audibly grunts against you and works slowly to clean you up. His eyes meet yours, and he reads your wrecked face instantly. 

You let out a hesitant moan, your fingers tiredly weaving into his dark locks and nails gently scratching along his scalp. His mustache tickles your clit and you try to breath through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

He was right, his hands were fucking perfect. Look at the way he learned your body, what it was chasing after, how it could be healed with his touch. You only with to give him the same. 

You sit up off your elbows, and he looks up at you with your arousal sitting silkily across his mustache. You cup his jaw, and he sits up with you, your mouth landing on his. You taste yourself, and it almost makes you shy, knowing Doctor Peña has tasted you. More importantly, made you cum with nothing more than his fingers. 

The opportunity to touch his body is one you didn’t realize you craved, small palms moving down his front. On instinct, he parts from your kiss and pulls his scrub top off. And God, you were right with every assumption. 

You knew he worked out, all cardio Gods adhere to the rule of working out to keep the heart muscle strong, but this was a different kind of strong. He was a Greek marble statue, all arms and toned chest and a waist you could easily tangle your legs around. 

“Jesus,” you breathe out.

Javi smirks confidently, his large hands cupping your face once more and tangling his tongue with yours. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your hand to his upper thigh, coasting your hand along until you feel his shaft protruding against his scrubs. 

“Take ‘em off,” you whisper. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asks confidently, forcing a grunt out of your mouth as you tug against the hem. 

“Telling. Now off with them.” You command. 

He tuts as he stands from the mattress. “That’s my girl,” he mutters proudly, circling his thumbs along the waist of his scrubs before pushing them down, briefs included, stepping out of the material that pooled around his feet. 

You slowly raise an eyebrow, your lips parting at his size. No wonder he was so cocky. You sit at the edge of the on-call bed and he steps forward knowingly. 

“S’okay, pretty girl. Just wanna make you feel good.” 

You stubbornly shake your head and take his hands, guiding him closer as your doe-eyes meet his melting brown ones. 

“I can do it.” Wrapping a hand slowly around his length, your other hand rests on his thigh to allow some security. 

He takes in a slow breath, his eyes growing heavy as you spit along his length. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as his large hand gently comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers intertwining in your hair as he begins to clutch them possessively. 

It felt so good to be the one in charge, to be his guidance. He wants you so badly, your hot mouth wrapped around him, begging for his own release just as you were. 

You sponge kisses along his length, watching him almost in a taunting way, because you know he’s going to fall apart before you. Flatting your tongue and sticking it out, he grunts at the sight. Leaning forward, you take him in your mouth. Your tongue circles his beady tip and you get to enjoy the taste of his pre-cum on your tastebuds. 

He’s salty and musky, hours after a long surgery and it tastes divine. All man. All Javier Peña. 

Javi’s breaths are getting faster as you begin to bob your head, taking him inch by inch until you felt comfortable enough to really go for it. 

“Such a fucking- overachiever,” he grins, your nose brushing against the coarse hair along his base as your eyes clench closed, choking around him but not letting off. “Holy fuck,” he moans. Your nails sink into his thigh and he hisses, your one and only reminder for him to stay quiet. He pulls off with a pop, leaving you pouting as you stroke over his impressive length. He twitches in your hand and he’s so heavy in your palm. 

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, Peña,” you remind as you break to give kisses along his thigh where your nails created crescent moon shapes. 

“Got me so close, baby. Don’t wanna cum yet, though.” 

You pout but ultimately leave him with one last kiss to his shaft. 

Javi can’t seem to get enough of your kisses, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip as he moves you back onto the mattress once more. Your fingers glide down his body, feeling the ripples of his muscles that you hope stays engrained in your mind forever. 

Even if it’s just a one-time thing, you wouldn’t mind storing the way he makes you unfold so effortlessly, caring to learn your body and its cravings. 

“Please, Javi,” you whimper against his mouth, feeling the warmth of his body slipping between yours once again, and it feels like a home. “Need you.” 

He nods breathlessly against you, propping up the pillow behind your head. You’re not sure why it gives you butterflies, taking care of you more than just sexually. But he pats the pillow a few times nonetheless and centers it to the back of your head, not stopping until you’re smiling up at him. 

Your hand cradles his jawline, thumb gliding across his chin before his mouth is back on yours. His lips part as your gasp enters his mouth, feeling his hand guide his tip from your clit to your leaking entrance. 

“Wet all over again,” he mutters against your mouth, but acting surprised is pointless. 

“Uh huh,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting him envelop you fully. 

Javier listens to you, reads your body language. He feels you grow tense as his tip nudges at your entrance, feeling your legs tighten hesitantly around his waist. 

Your hands are soft on his back, moving along the carved muscles and following their runs like wild rivers. Perhaps it is a way you calm your nerves, touching his warm skin relaxes your walls. He’s able to push onward. 

“Jesus- Javi,” you whimper, letting him sink his length fully into you until he bottoms out in one thrust that leaves him groaning. The pillow he’s laid down for you is held by his fist, the veins down his arms bulging against your head. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” his chest rumbles, Javi starting to find a rhythm as he guides his length in and out of you. 

The first couple of strokes are dragging, aching. It’s hard to breathe and your nose brushes against his neck. 

Javier is so lost in the feeling of you, your tight little cunt squeezing repeatedly around his cock. The hand not holding him up runs up the side of your body, first on the outside of your thigh, then moving upwards to squeeze your ass in his large palm. You moan into his ear, and he does it again, both of you smirking against the kiss. Then he’s on your hip, following the pretty curve before he wraps his arm on the underside of your body, cradling your shoulder. 

It’s like a seatbelt clicking in, gasping as you feel him lock you into place. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, Javi coming to rest his forehead against yours as he begins to snap his hips. 

With the change in pace, the energy becomes charged with something less delicate. It’s like you were witnessing Javier’s two-sided personality, trying to learn and teach, and now, the arrogant, cocky shark. 

The drag, once painful, now feels heavenly, the ache becoming a sedative that has you cooing for more. He’s more relentless now, hips snapping into yours that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your jaw points to the ceiling, and he sees the opportunity for his lips to latch onto your neck. 

At the height of sensitivity, you feel everything. The sweat trickling down your temple, his teeth carving marks on your neck, your breasts pressed against his toned front; he’s all encapsulating. 

You whine as you squeeze around his cock, his hand on your shoulder pressing harder into your skin. He keeps you there, pounding into you, the coarse dark hair grinding against your clit so perfectly. Your core tightens, and you feel your second orgasm begin at its crest. He must be close, too, because he’s driving into you with ferocity. 

“Javi,” you cry against his neck, your nose brushing against his tousled hair, “I-I can’t.”

Javier shakes his head and moves the hand on your shoulder down between your bodies, finding your quivering clit and adding pressure to the small ministrations he starts on. His lips move to your ear, placing a kiss against the outer shell. 

“You can,” he demands in a stern tone, his hot pants fanning against your face as his aquiline nose nudges your cheekbone, “you can give me another one, cariño.”

He wants to see your star explode. See you dissolve before him into a million tiny sparks, fizzling into the night sky so he can take your beauty in fully, from inner soul to outer exterior. You were slipping into the void before him like a firework bursting. 

“Fuck, I can,” you pant, your head dropping back onto the pillow as heat slips down your spine and your vision goes dark. 

You squeeze his cock repeatedly as your orgasm surges through you, back arching off the mattress and your legs tightening around his slim waist. He can feel your pulsing clit against the pad of his thumb, feeling you gush around his dick as his balls slapping against your core grow slick with your arousal. 

From below, your vision is hazy, and he looks so fucking handsome. The surgical mask doesn’t do him justice. 

“You can come inside me,” you whisper as you lean in and nibble his earlobe, hearing him grunt at your comment. 

“Christ,” he mutters, “you have no idea what you do to me.” Javi gently tugs on your lower lip before he distracts himself with your kisses. His snapping hips begin to lose their rhythm, becoming more sloppy and erratic.

He was chasing the feeling, distracted by how perfect you were for him today.

The vein along his temple bulges as his desperate espresso eyes meet yours. All he needs to see is that little smirk of yours, and it sends him over the edge. 

His jaw drops, and a silent moan wants to slip out desperately, but somehow, he’s able to conceal it with low grunts of something that resembles your name.

You begin to feel his warmth spread through your core, making your insides fuzzy. He trembles; you both do. It feels like he comes for forever, but frankly, you don’t want it to stop. 

This feeling sits still inside you, humbles you, and centers you with the universe. Your life is hectic, and for one hour today, you’re not running around from one room to the next or getting chewed out by the senior doctors. This was the perfect stress relief; Javier Peña was a damn good break. 

His strong body collapses over yours, and any residual strength he has left is being held by a tiny string that keeps you from being crushed. 

He lays on his side, shoulder blades pressed against the cold cinderblock wall. He buries his hand in his face, and you wonder if he regrets what he’s done. 

Did he? 

“Thanks,” you whisper, reaching blindly for scrubs and accidentally tossing on his scrub pants in your orgasmic haze. 

“For what? And those are mine. You can have them in a few years when you’re an attending.” He hums, smirking as he pulls the sheets up to cover his lower half. 

You scoff and pull off the pants, switching out for your own after you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“For the lessons.” 

He watches you change, slipping your shoes back on and fixing your hair in the mirror. You try to ignore the feeling of his come slipping out of you, your legs as wobbly as a newborn calf. 

“Yeah? What did you learn?” He cocks an eyebrow and blindly reaches for a pack of cigarettes on the windowsill, propping open the window a few inches. 

Your eyes scan over him slowly as you tighten the tie on your scrub bottoms, a slow smirk gradually growing on your lips. 

“I know why you smoke.” 

Ignoring his intrigued face, you flip off the lights and leave his on-call room in a midnight blue film. The heavy door inches open, light shedding through and inching into the darkness. It clicks closed behind you just as your pager goes off, seeing that there is a message coming through for your newly reconstructed aortic arch patient. 

“Shit,” you mutter. 

The door swooshes open behind you, and Peña reappears dressed in his navy scrubs, surging past you. His shoulder knocks yours on the way out, and you can’t help but scoff. 

“Let’s go. Pick up the pace,” His voice is raspy and tired, but you keep his stride as you work your way towards the intensive care unit. 

Doctor Peña glances back over his shoulder, his smirk mirroring your own.  

Even a shark has its vices. Perhaps after tonight, you’re Javi’s. 

main masterlist | notifications blog if you enjoyed the read, commets and reblogs are super appreciated!

[eve209]

Im sick of waiting :3

-REIGEN ARATAKA X TOP MALE READER-

READ: I’m making this because I’m sick of fucking waiting for someone to make another Reigen smut…ONLY 2 SMUTS OF REIGEN, I HAVE WAITED FOR 2 YEARS NOW BRO AND IM SICK. so I have decided to do it.

!WARNINGS!- little bit of hair pulling, rough make out, choking, fucking on the couch, semi public???, little rough, nicknames (hun, beautiful, momma, love, etc.) and talking about getting reigen pregnant ;)

“You doin ok down there baby?” You say as you pet Reigens head as he chokes on your dick.

“Mmmmh!~” Reigen moans under his desk, gripping your thighs as his own legs shake. You and Reigen were alone at the Spirits and Such Consultation Office, Alone as everyone was gone since it was late. The sunset was bleeding into the office windows as you smirk and run your hands  through his hair. Seeing him choke on your dick, moaning like he’s the one getting his dick suck. How cute….

You groan, throwing your head back as you feel the urge to cum, pulling Reigens hair to get that tight mouth off of you. He whimpers, looking up at you, “y-you were gonna cum though…” he saying catching his breath and wiping his mouth.

“I’m just waiting to come inside that ass of yours hun, calm down.” You say smiling and leaning down to wipe the cum off the corner of his mouth and grabbing his chin to kiss him. He moans as you slip your tongue in, letting you explore his mouth. You wrap your arms around his legs and pick him up, still kissing him while walking to the couch on the other side of the office. 

Reigen ripped onto your shirt, moaning into the kiss so loud the damn cafe below can probably hear them. “Fuck sweetheart…quiet down…” you said in between kisses. He moans again as your hand slides up his neck, slightly gripping it.

He starts to grid his waist up, trying to get some friction but doesn’t succeed. He whines and rests his arms beside him on the couch.

‘Damn he must be needy as shit…’ you thought, reasons why is cause Regien NEVER is this…active? During sex at least. He’s usually like a pillow princess! Never doing any work and letting you do every single thing.

The only thing he’s ever really did anything like that was ride you ONE time…and of course it was for your birthday. How sweet of him… “once in a life time chance for a birthday boy” as he quoted it. Well that was the best sex you probably ever had! He was bouncing up and down on your cock. Moaning about how big it is and how he wants you to stuff him with some birthday babies…Arching his back and looking down at you, smiling and biting his lip while his own hand was playing with his nipple and the other on your chest. Calling you ‘Such a good boy..’ for taking all this ass….

You lowkey moaned remembering that night..even the setting was amazing! But anyways, that’s for another time.

You rip off Reigens pants, immediately going start for those tan, smooth, sensitive of his thighs. Biting those thighs up so quick the second you see them. Reigen moans, grabbing a fist of your hair gently, gripping onto the couch pillow he’s leaning his head on as he arches his back. “F-fuck (M/n)…Y-you make me feel so fucking good…” and oh my god you feel yourself almost cumming in your pants. His voice is so beautiful..Everything about him is so damn hot to you. You’re so fucking in love with him…

You lick the bruises on his thigh before looking up him with lustful eyes. “Hey beautiful? You think you still stretched out from last night or do you want me to finger you a lil more?”. Reigen blushes and shakes his head, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb, “I think I’m ok…j-just fuck me hard, mkay?”. You blush and nod before smirking, sitting up on your knees and going to the drawer to grab a condom and some lube.

You take a deep breath, sliding on the condom and squirting some lube on with one hand as the other massages Reigens thigh for reassurance.

“You ready momma?” You say looking up, grabbing both the back of his thighs and hold them apart as you lean forward to his face. He blushes and nods, grabbing the back of your head and whispering in your ear…

“Do your worst..”

————————————————————————

“F-fuck (M/n)!~ Oh my ff-Ah!”

It’s been 2 hours. Now 10 at night. Straight fucking the shit out of Reigen. Switching positions left and right, making out til both of you lose breath, and so much damn cum. But of course some 2 minute water breaks here and there.

The sun was set by now. Only a lamp on reigens desk on the other side of the office still on. The calming scent of the office surprisingly still there. You bite your lip, your hands on reigens ass, spreading it apart to see his sweet hole sucking your dick like a damn lollipop. You guys are now in doggy position. His pretty face stuffed in a pillow as his back is arched.

“(M/n)…I-i can’t go any l-longer!~ Please I feel like I’m gonna break!” Reigen says after moving his head to the side, such pretty tears streaming down his face. You lean to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Ok baby.. can you cum one more time for me? Then I’ll clean you up and carry you home, ok?”. Reigen nods and breathes in deep, resting his head on the couch pillow, biting his lip so hard you see blood!

You hold his hand from the back, kissing his hair before thrusting in his tummy again. He’s so damn tight she’s practically breaking your dick off! You groan, grabbing a fist of Reigens and pulling him up to see his face. “Come on pretty girl…moan loud for me..” You say as he start to hold his neck instead of his hair since you propped him up on his hands. He moans louder, one hand grabbing your hand on his neck, throwing his head back.

“F-Fuck! (M/n)~ I’m coming! I’m coming!~Ahh!!~” Reigen moaned, coming hard on the pillow. You groan, slamming yourself inside him one more time, coming inside of his stomach. “F-fuck..” you mumble as you look down at him and kiss his cheek before pulling out. “Good job hunny..you did amazing..” you say rubbing his stomach.

He whimpers, resting his body on you, “I’m tired…” he says holding onto your hand tight. You laugh and flip on around to let him rest on your lap, “it’s ok hun…go to bed I’ll clean up and get us home don’t worry.” you say smiling.

He groans while stuffing his face in your neck, “Ok…love you” he mumbles hugging you tightly.

You laugh and look down at him, kissing his forehead as he drifts into sleep.

“I love you more Reigen..good night.”

[kbstanny]

Treatment (Zayne/Reader)

✿ Fandom: Love and Deepspace

✿ Pairing: M/F

✿ Tag: NSFW

✿ Mentions: smut, mild injury mentions

✿ Word count: 5,051

✿ Summary: She had no choice but to see Dr. Zayne for treatment after a Wanderer left her injured, but his cure for her anguish wasn't quite what she had in mind.

✿ A/N: Hey! This my first fic on this website, and it's on a game I only started playing a week ago 😭

Because I'm a new player, I don't really know the world or the story very well, so if there are inaccuracies then you know why. However, I've also avoided specific plot details for this very reason.

I hope you enjoy!

Damned Knave.

She tightly gripped the gash on her thigh, limping her way down the dark deserted path. She'd received reports of disturbances down at the old munitions factory and had gone to investigate. Wanderers had been sighted after hours, so she'd gone late into the evening, and solo, as her ever-elusive partner had been unavailable. She'd handled herself fine, but a rather tricky Knave had managed to cut right through the top of her thigh.

Once she eventually hobbled her way to a street lamp, she could investigate her injuries properly. Shakily, she removed her blood-stained hands from the wound, then hummed — It didn't look too severe. The gash was long, but not so deep, stretching from her inner thigh up toward her hip. The blood made things a lot nastier than they needed to be, and the pain was bearable, at least for now. She'd hail a taxi and treat the damage at home, and if it didn't feel much better by morning, she'd consult her physician. But Dr. Zayne was a last resort.

Once morning came, she did not feel better.

The pain woke her up before her alarm did. It stung intensely, and the surrounding skin was hot and numb. Clearly rubbing alcohol, a cocktail of painkillers and gauze wasn't going to cut it. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage to take a look at her injury — it still didn't seem too bad. Inflamed, a little gnarly, but far from incapacitating. Just painful. But she'd faced foes much fiercer than some stupid Herte Knave, and obtained injuries far more gruesome. For now, she'd suck it up. She had a job to do.

—

"Oh my god!" Tara gasped. "When did that happen?" Her friend asked her, leaning in to the picture on her phone. She'd snapped the pic before getting ready for work this morning, thinking it would be a funny story to tell to Tara at the office. But her friend's reaction was a little more alarmed than she'd anticipated.

"Last night, at the factory. There were some serious beasts down there, but you wanna know caused that? A Knave of all things." She chuckled, shaking her head. Tara didn't look so amused.

"Aren't you hurt? Have you been to the doctor?"

"It's just a scratch, Tara, I'll be fine."

"That is not just a scratch! That needs stitches!—"

"What needs stitches?"

Captain Jenna approached the two, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She had a scrutinising look in her eye, one that said 'Why are you chatting and not working?' It reminded her of her old teachers.

The hunters were silent, looking between each other. She shot Tara a warning look, but Tara ignored it, turning the phone to face Jenna. "This does."

Jenna leaned in, her eyebrows raising, breaking her steely expression. "Why yes, it does... Is this you?" She looked to her, and she sighed softly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes, but I feel fine. I promise. If I didn't, I'd take the day off."

"Have you had it treated?" Jenna cut to the chase.

"...No." She admitted, and Jenna sighed.

"Well go. At once. That could easily get infected." The captain straightened up, her tone commanding. There was no room for negotiation. "Honestly, I thought you'd have more sense than to leave an injury like that unattended." With that, Jenna walked away. She waited until her captain was out of sight before standing and addressing Tara.

"Did you really have to snitch on me?" Though she already knew she would — anything to impress Jenna. Tara gave a sheepish look.

"Well I had to do something! I'm only looking out for you." But she pat Tara's shoulder, shaking her head and smiling.

"I know, I know, you're right... as usual. I really shouldn't ignore it. Thanks Tara." Tara gave a knowing smile.

"I am usually right! Now go and see Zayne. He might be a little scary but he knows what he's doing." They both chuckled at that.

Tara knew what her friend was hesitant to admit: It wasn't that she was ignorant of the risks of open wounds, nor was she a particularly nervous patient. She just didn't want to see Zayne.

Not because the doctor was in any way cruel or unpleasant, he wasn't even scary as such. But the doctor was so cold, and the icy chill of his eyes permeated her core with a mere glance her way. Zayne had been an old forgotten friend, a dear one, but now he was a figurehead for her ailments. All that time they'd spent together as children seemed meaningless now. They couldn't have drifted further apart. Zayne was a bad omen, and a sign her past had been well and truly shattered.

But that was only half of the reason. The other reason, the more embarrassing one, was that she found Zayne stupidly attractive. Not only because he had the face of an angel and a body carved from marble, but for his work ethic, his dedication, his intelligence. And of course, she couldn't help but feel sentimental toward him over the time they'd spent together as kids. She yearned to reconnect with him. He had a potent effect on her. When she was near him, his mere presence was enough to suck the words out of her mouth, to reduce her to a shrinking violet with no resolve. Like a silly teenager with a crush. And that wasn't like her at all. She hated not having control.

She wasn't certain whether the feeling was mutual. There was something about the way that he looked at her, on occasion, that made her heart flare up. Sometimes she thought he had a tenderness to his tone that he just couldn't have used with everyone, but maybe that was wishful thinking? His concern for her health and wellbeing seemed obsessive, too. Never had her previous physicians been so zealous, but Zayne was a renowned surgeon. Perhaps it was just a sign he was good at his job, and nothing more? She didn't know, and she didn't like thinking about it.

With a deep breath, she rapped on the door to his office. With any luck, he'd be busy, and she'd be forced to return to HQ and schedule an appointment the long way.

"Come in." He answered — Damn.

She walked inside, standing by the door with her hands behind her back. Zayne was busy typing away at his computer, and he hadn't even spared her a glance. She hadn't realised she'd been quiet until Zayne spoke up again.

"Can I help you?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yes, if you're not too busy. I injured myself while dealing with a Wanderer. I was hoping you could take a look."

It was upon hearing her voice that Zayne decided his patient was more interesting than his computer, and he turned to face her, scrutinising her slightly crooked form, and the way she carried her weight. He thought for a moment or two.

"Your left thigh." How did he know that? She looked down, but her injury was completely concealed, and no blood had seeped through her clothes.

"Yes, how did you—"

"What happened exactly? Take a seat." She nodded, heading to sit down on the chair opposite the doctor, but he shook his head.

"Not there. On the examination table."

"Right."

As she sat down, Zayne quickly punched one final sentence into the keyboard, before turning to face her, waiting for her answer.

"It happened yesterday. A Wanderer, as I said." She clarified, and Zayne hummed.

"So the Wanderer attacked you directly? You didn't sustain this injury through any other means during the battle?" She shook her head. Zayne made a note of this on his computer.

"And do you have any other injuries?" She told him no again.

"Alright. I need to examine you, if that's okay."

She nodded, looking down to where her legs were outstretched on the table, before coming to an awkward realisation: She was wearing pants. She couldn't just pull her skirt up, she'd have to strip the item off entirely.

"Yes, of course." She began to fiddle with the button to her pants, before Zayne stiffened, taking the curtain that surrounded the table.

"Tell me when you're ready." With that, he shut the curtain around her. She released a sigh of relief, grateful for the privacy, though she felt a little stupid for not closing it herself. She wasn't sure how she'd compose herself having to undress in front of him.

Once her pants were off, she came to a second mortifying realisation: Her underwear. The item was black and lacy, made from sheer mesh, hardly concealing her delicate areas. The type you'd wear for a lover, and not at all the sort of thing you'd wear to work. But she'd washed all of her more practical undies yesterday, and thanks to one pesky Knave, hadn't found the time to dry them before morning. If she'd known she'd be stripping down in Zayne's office for an examination, she would have stopped off at the shops on her way to work to buy something cheap and appropriate. Hell, she probably would have bought boxer shorts.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath.

What would Zayne think of her? Surely he'd think it was deliberate. She'd approached him for treatment, and she just so happened to be wearing semi-transparent lingerie? There was no way he'd find that coincidental. He'd think she was some sort of pervert. Was it too late to get out of here?

"Are you alright? Or are you struggling to get changed?" Zayne asked from the other side of the curtain. Her chest felt tight — how long had she been sat there worrying?

"No, I'm fine. I'm ready now." She panicked, blurting out the words despite herself, cursing internally as Zayne pulled back the curtain. The doctor said nothing as his eyes drank in the sight of her, nor did his expression give anything away — Not that she'd know, she avoided his gaze like the plague, staring intently at the floor. But despite his composure, Zayne certainly noticed her indelicate attire. And despite his healing instincts, and the rather prominent gash on her thigh, her panties were the very first thing that held his attention.

Zayne sat beside the bed, on the side of her injured leg, leaning in close to the cut. He took a long look at it, reticent as ever, before finally meeting her gaze.

"What time did this happen yesterday?"

"In the evening."

"And you didn't think to call me when it did?" Zayne pressed. Her words were trapped in her throat for a moment, before she finally pushed them out.

"Well... no. It was late, and it didn't seem so bad at the time."

"It's never too late to check yourself in to a hospital." Zayne stated the obvious. "Whether I was available or not, you should have had this seen to immediately." His tone was stern, his stare unwavering. She said nothing. "When something like this happens, you need to call me, no matter how late it is. I'm your primary care physician, it's what I'm here for. And if I can't see to you personally, I can find someone who can."

"I understand. I will do, next time."

"You really ought to take your health more seriously. You have a duty, as a hunter, to protect people. Lives depend on you. And you can't protect anybody if you can't take adequate care of yourself. Being anything less than thorough with your wellbeing is selfish, and neglectful of your duties." His words made her brows furrow, a mixture of annoyance and shame, but she still didn't respond.

"Injuries sustained through Wanderer attacks are more susceptible to infections. Some are serious, and fast-acting, as you should well know. I cannot stress enough the importance of getting wounds like these seen to as soon as possible—"

"I know, Doctor." She interrupted, a little snappy. "I told you already. I will next time, and I'm here now, aren't I?" But did she have any right to be annoyed with his tone? Deep down she knew she didn't, that she was only being stubborn, but she couldn't help herself.

"Please don't be so reckless next time." Zayne asked her, his tone softer, his eyes so tender she couldn't stand to look at them anymore. She couldn't take it when he scolded her.

The doctor sighed softly through his nose.

"This will need sutures, but I'll need to clean the wound and check for signs of infection first, which requires a physical examination. Is that alright?" His words nearly made her melt.

"That's fine." She composed herself well enough for an answer.

Zayne brought a gloved hand to her thigh, and although the gesture was purely clinical, she couldn't help the heat that rushed to the spot between her legs. His hands were cool, and his touch gentle, so gentle that if she closed her eyes and pictured a different context, it could've been a loving caress. Zayne pressed his fingers firmly against her thigh.

"Does that hurt?"

"No." She answered honestly. Zayne repeated the motion to the space surrounding her injury, his fingers travelling in a small circle, starting from the bottom of the cut, until they creeped inwards. Zayne gently pulled at her thigh, widening her legs as he continued his examination. She was trying her best not to react.

She cast her gaze downwards, to the fingers between her legs, and her heart dropped. From this angle, under the stark white lights, she was clearly exposed. Nothing was left to the imagination. She was so embarrassed she nearly screamed, looking to Zayne to try and gauge his reaction — but she couldn't. He was too focused on the task at hand.

Her breath became shaky as she observed the way he prodded at her, how his fingers crept ever-closer to her arousal. Just one budge in the opposite direction and those tough, broad hands would be swept over her cunt. Imagining how his fingertips would tickle the mesh of her panties was enough to make her wet.

She heard her name in the recesses of her mind, and then again. Only the second time did she realise it was coming from Zayne's lips.

She snapped back to reality, looking back at him with eyes wider than intended. He stared back at her with a cutting gaze.

"I asked you whether it hurt, where I was touching you." He repeated. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a few moments before she could cough the words out.

"No— no, sorry. I was a million miles away." She chuckled sheepishly.

Zayne looked back at her, giving nothing away. How exciting, he thought, that he could tell exactly what was going through her mind, yet she didn't have a clue what he was thinking? Zayne was extraordinarily good at hiding his emotions, but his patient? Not so much.

She was embarrassed, that much was clear. Whether the lingerie was a wardrobe malfunction or a bold decision she quickly came to regret, he wasn't sure.

What was also clear was that she liked it — what he declined to express was that he did too.

How could he not? If it were anybody else, he wouldn't give such scandalous attire a second thought. As a doctor, he was indiscriminate; a body was just a body. He'd seen the hidden corners of countless beautiful women and it never swayed his commitment to his work or hindered his professionalism — not once. But she was different. Surely, despite how reserved he was, she could tell that she was different? That this tension between them was all but ordinary?

"I don't believe you have an infection, but I'd like to see you in a week for observation. If anything changes, let me know immediately." He told her, his tone as stoic as ever. Yet his hand lingered at her inner thigh, so close to her cunt she was sure he could feel the heat through his gloves. Eventually, he did move his hand. Despite his feelings, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Zayne then proceeded with the usual cleaning and dressing procedures, and she suppressed a hiss as he swabbed the wound with antiseptic. During this entire exchange, she'd been uncharacteristically quiet, whereas Zayne was as quiet as usual. The silence was unbearable, she wasn't sure she could ever recall a time where she'd felt so awkward that it hurt. Her body was so tense, and her lust swelled so needily that she couldn't suppress the words that left her mouth next.

"I'm sorry about the underwear." She blurted, her apology cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. But it didn't take long for the searing metal to scorch her skin — she regretted the words almost the moment she'd said them.

Zayne paused, placing down the suture needle he was prepping before staring straight back at her. There was a hint of mirth behind his eyes, that came into fruition through a small, teasing smile.

"Don't apologise." His tone was gentle and neutral.

Did he say that so things wouldn't be uncomfortable, or because he liked the look of them?

"I didn't wear these because I knew you'd see them, all my other pairs hadn't dried. And I wasn't even going to see you in the first place, I only did because Jenna told me to!" She couldn't help but explain herself, a grimace on her face, but Zayne remained quiet as he brought the needle to the cut.

The anaesthetic numbed the pain. She felt uncomfortable again, with Zayne's sudden silence. She wondered whether he'd respond at all, whether she'd made things too awkward, but Zayne was simply mulling over the best thing to say.

"You don't usually wear lingerie to work, then?" He enquired, meeting her gaze once he'd pulled the stitch through. She chuckled bashfully, dipping her head.

"No. Never. They've been irritating me all day." Zayne hummed at this, continuing with his sutures. "Why, would you prefer it if I did?"

She wasn't sure where such boldness had come from. Likely it was that her lips below were talking for the ones above, despite how twisted up she felt inside. Yet again, she quickly regretted her pitiful attempt at flirting, until Zayne seemed to bite.

He met her eyes again, his smile wider now. He loved seeing her so playful. "I'm not sure I can come up with an answer that's both professional and true."

Her desire burned at his words, so brightly that she swore she could feel a hole forming in her chest. She clenched, unwittingly, never had she been so eager to feel him. A Cheshire-cat smile stretched across her face, the type of smile that she was sure made her look silly, yet Zayne found it endearing.

She began to laugh, though at first it was deep in the pit of her stomach, and Zayne continued with his work. But she couldn't help her laughter, the swell of emotions overtaking her. Embarrassed, yet immensely satisfied. How unexpected that things were beginning to work out for her?

Zayne finished the sutures, gathering fresh gauze as he began to dress the wound, amused by her reaction. "Do you truly find me that funny?" He asked in a level tone, and her laughter died down so that she could respond.

"Zayne, you are the furthest thing from funny." Though she didn't elaborate, as there was no need. Her belly full of butterflies was clear without words. The doctor hummed and finished dressing the wound.

She watched him as quiet settled over them again, but this time it wasn't an awkward silence. Instead, it was charged with sexual tension. Zayne stopped looking at her thigh in favour of the warmth between her legs. He stared, unabashedly, and the look on his face struck a bolt of fresh arousal through her heart.

He took his gloves off, then slowly, he reached over, tracing his fingertip over the lacy edge of her underwear. "Why do you have underwear like this anyway? Do you have a partner?" He asked her. She thought he sounded almost a little possessive, but it was clear another man in the picture wouldn't stop him anyways. His eyes flitted up to hers.

Her face felt hot at the question. Goosebumps prickled up across her skin in an instant, her cunt twitching from the subtle contact. "No."

"No?" He tested, taking his finger directly over her heat, stroking it up and down over the thin mesh of her panties. He could feel her wetness soaking through, and the way she twitched under his touch. "Then I'm right to assume that these are only for me?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one that she mirrored.

"That's right."

Her answer pleased him. She spread her legs a little wider, resisting the urge to moan despite the fact he'd hardly touched her. Zayne slipped his fingers beneath her underwear, finally feeling her properly. The sensation made her gasp.

He merely trailed his touch along the length of her cunt, between her folds, sticky with her slick. He was teasing her, taking his precious time as he lapped up the look on her face.

"You're already so wet."

His voice was collected. He was completely in control, while the woman at the end of his fingers was quickly unravelling by the second. She said nothing, releasing a shaky breath. Zayne stood, sitting opposite her on the table.

He took his fingers from the lips below to the ones above, tracing them gently, before taking hold of her jaw. He pulled her forward, and their lips collided in a greedy kiss. She poured her desire into him, clasping him tightly, pulling him closer, her eyes clenched shut as he expelled the tension from her form.

Yet Zayne, as always, appeared composed. He parried her hungry affections effortlessly, his grip on her jaw becoming firm. Zayne led the charge, as he guided her lips against his, eventually setting their pace. She slowed down to appreciate him, but before long the kiss was broken. Zayne pulled away with a soft smile, his lips a little puffy as he pressed them chastely to her cheek.

He brought his fingers to her lips again. "Suck them for me." His command was gentle without losing its timbre, and she obeyed, sucking on the digits without question, briefly, until he pulled them out of her mouth. Zayne brought his wetted fingers back to her cunt, pulling her underwear to one side and sticking his fingers firmly against her.

She huffed at the sensation. His fingers were still a little cold, warmer now thanks to her mouth. She clenched, feeling empty, needing him inside of her.

Zayne rolled his fingers over her clit, and not too slowly, which took her by surprise. She moaned already, widening her legs for him. He wore a focused expression, lust sparking beneath his pointed gaze.

He sat more comfortably between her legs, taking her thigh, before inserting a finger into her cunt. She whined, though she was wet enough to offer no resistance. He pushed it deep inside of her in one, smooth motion.

She clenched tightly with her core, as if to hold on to him, wanting to keep him inside of her, sighing as he pulled his finger out, only for him to add a second.

This was a tighter fit. She moaned, trying to keep her voice down, angling her hips up to feel him better. Zayne slowly began to pump both his fingers, up deep inside of her then down to the tips. The friction of her walls against him was marvellous.

"You feel wonderful." He told her, his eyes locked on hers, fixed on every micromovement. Everything about her, from the sound of her voice, the small parting in her lips, the sight of her so uninhibited before him — it was poetry in motion. This woman, as capable and stubborn as she was, was helpless at his touch.

I do feel wonderful, she thought, scoffing at Zayne's compliment. She felt blissful, like a ball of a thousand knots had at once been untied, releasing a deep strain she'd been harbouring in her stomach. Ever since she'd reunited with Dr. Zayne, those ties had knotted. Every time she'd seen him, the palpable tension between them had grown and grown. Until now.

Zayne sat up straight, then hoisted her up, taking his fingers out briefly to pull her panties off entirely, carelessly discarding the item on the floor. It was only a momentary distraction — soon Zayne's fingers slipped past her walls yet again, though this time he was positioned beside her, his other arm hooked around her waist, holding her close.

He pumped his fingers faster, his motions mechanical, his rhythm never wavering, and she struggled to contain the sound of her mewls.

"Shh. You need to be quieter." He hushed her, gently. "As much as I love hearing you, the walls here aren't so thick." He managed a chuckle, dipping his head to her neck, pressing a short trail of kisses down its length. This made her shiver

"That's— that's the wrong way to get me to be quiet." She scolded, playfully, matching his smile. Her words were breathy and choppy from her efforts to conceal her pleasure.

"Noted." Zayne turned her head toward his, then caught her lips in another kiss, one more frenzied than the first. Zayne used his lips to muffle the noises coming out of hers, eating every moan and whine she poured into him. He pushed his fingers as deep as they could reach inside of her, stroking her walls with a beckoning motion. Meanwhile, he played with her clit with his thumb, breaking their kiss to observe her reactions.

She looked divine. Her lips were wet and inflamed, dripping with saliva, her hair tousled, her expression languid. And he could see how she tried so hard to keep quiet for him, how her whimpers bubbled in her mouth, how hard she breathed through her nose. She felt she must have looked silly, but Zayne didn't think so at all.

"So you can do what you're told?" He teased, sounding more playful than she'd ever heard him. She huffed at this, far too wound up to retort.

He suddenly began to pump his fingers again, faster than before, which took her time to adjust to. She gasped, but caught most of the sound in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

She could feel her climax swelling. It couldn't be far away. Her body felt tight and hot, her face clenched with the torment of having to keep quiet. She held his hand, leaning into him, her movements becoming fidgety as she tried to channel her stimulation. Again, she clenched at Zayne's fingers, bucking her hips to take more of them. Seeing her so desperate for him was so exciting.

"You're doing so well." He didn't tease her anymore, cooing into her ear. His husky tone was enough to make her moan again, that one slipping right past her defences, ringing loud and clear. Oops.

She bit her lips, flashing Zayne an apologetic look, though he didn't seem to mind, nor did he slow down. Another pang of pleasure rippled through her, and at that she knew it was time.

"Zayne— I'm close—" She just about choked the words out, her hand coming to clamp her mouth shut. Somehow, in the heat of things, she'd forgotten she had that option.

He sped up a final time, his fingers flashing in and out of her with a series of thick squelches. Zayne fingered her like a machine, one clever in its design — to be so quick and accurate without being brutal. She felt her whole body tense, a flush of great heat washing over her, choking out her gasps as she buried her head in Zayne's shoulder. Then, at once, she reached her release.

Her body quickly went lax, the heat and strain fizzing out of her, skin tingling. It took her a few good gasps to regain her composure, eyes slowly opening. When she looked down, the light sheet on the table had been soaked through with her release, her legs glistening with sweat. Slowly, Zayne pulled his fingers out of her, earning a whine from the weary woman. He brought those fingers to his lips, sucking away her juices.

He sent her a smile, pulling her against his chest. "Did you like that?" Surely the answer was obvious, and she sent him a look that spoke a thousand words. His smile deepened. "I'm glad."

"I hope I wasn't too loud..." She mused, looking to Zayne, who leaned in to press a soft kiss to her temple. A delicate gesture that made her heart stir.

"You were. But don't worry about it." She scoffed at that, too tired to do anything but listen to him. Before she could return the favour and get Zayne off, she needed a few minutes to gather herself.

But Zayne didn't seem the least bit concerned about his own satisfaction — seeing her hit ecstasy was all he needed. He rubbed at her inner thigh, the one that wasn't injured, giving her a slightly regretful look.

"I have an appointment in twenty minutes, so unfortunately you're going to have to leave soon." The words weighed heavy on her chest, even though she knew that was stupid, nodding at Zayne with a cheeky smile.

"That's not a problem, I can make it quick." She reached over to the tent in Zayne's crotch, but he took her hand, moving it away.

"I can sort myself out." He assured her. She couldn't help but feel a little rejected. Sensing this, he stroked her cheek.

"You can make it up to me another time." They both smiled at that, staring at each other for what felt like hours.

"I'll never avoid making an appointment again."

They probably would have kept staring if it weren't for the startling knock at the door, and the concerned voice of one of the nurses that followed.

"Doctor Zayne? Is everything alright in there? I heard a lot of noise!"

[star-suh]

One Jerk Off A Day Do Not Keep The Doctor Away

Lee Minho x Male Reader

cw: top doctor minho, bttm m! reader, fingering, rimjob, reader is kinda dumb idk, blowjob, public sex, underwear gagging, breeding, minho is a horny freak.

—

"so tell me mr. y/n, what brought you here?" asked minho.

"you see mr. lee i'm feeling some pain down there" answered y/n shyly.

"where exactly?" said minho while typing on his computer.

"umm… in.. in my balls…" answered y/n blushing, his face looked like a tomato. minho just looked at him straight to his eyes and smirked.

"okay mr. y/n, no need to be shy. hop on and lay on the bed, but first, take off your pants and underwear please" minho told y/n while putting on his gloves, y/n complied but he was so shy that he covered his crotch with his hands.

"no need to do that, y/n, it's not the first dick i've seen" the older said and started to touch y/n's dick part by part until he reaches y/n's balls and squeeze them. "hng" y/n moaned. "what was that? does it hurts here?" asked minho and y/n nodded. "tell me mr. y/n what was the last time you masturbated?". y/n eyes were wide open and his face was now like if he just ate the spiciest food on earth, he covered his face with his hands and answered in embarrasment "i don't masturbate mr. doctor". minho looked at him in disbelief "what do you mean y/n? don't you know masturbating is a normal thing for people?", y/n nodded and answered "yes… b-but i never felt the need to do it…".

"woah y/n you really surprised me" laughed minho "luckily i have a perfect method to help you with your blue balls. we just have to milk them until you're dry". "and how do you do that?" asked y/n, minho didn't say a word just showed y/n the big bulge in his pants, he unzipped it and left his cock sprung free out of it "with this tool here" he says slapping his big heavy fat cock in his hand "so i can reach your prostate and free all that cum inside you, so it can stop hurting. what do you think mr. y/n?". "yes doctor, you know better than me how to relieve this pain" answered y/n quickly.

"ok, then let's get to work"

—

"spread them wide open for me, please?" demanded minho while burying his face between y/n's ass cheeks "i have to prep this pretty hole so it won't hurt when i introduce my cock to you okay?" y/n nodded containing his moans so the patients outside the doctor's consulting room won't hear him. minho's tongue went as deep as it could inside y/n's ass leaving it dilated and slippery, then he slapped his clenching hole and introduced his fingers inside of it "dam you taste so good y/n, i might become addicted to this flavor" said minho while kissing y/n's thighs.

"t-thank you s-sir… i might become addicted to this too". minho smirked "glad to know that" he then put another finger and then another and thrust them inside until all three of them were knuckles deep inside y/n, he later pulls them out.

"now i need you to put that pretty mouth of yours to work, take my cock and make it nice and wet to introduce it inside you, okay mr. y/n?" the latter nodded and started to kiss minho's cock head licking the pre-cum of the slip "it takes so good mr. lee" said y/n "open wide and relax your throat, i'm gonna help you" told minho to y/n who complied, then the doctor started to mouthfuck his patient. "so fucking tight damn" he says while y/n was gagging, threads of thick saliva spilling out of y/n's mouth corners and coating minho's shaft with it, some minutes passed and minho pulls out "why did you stopped doctor?" y/n asked, "because i don't want to cum yet, and remember, i still have to slip it inside your asshole. now be a good boy, lay on the bed and open your legs wide". y/n did as the doctor said and started to feel how the doctor's cock stretched his hole, a burning sensation that sends him to heaven and back. "i can feel you like it by how much you're tightening around me fuck" minho murmured remembering that there's still patients outside, he also picked up his underwear and put it on y/n's mouth to muffle his moans. y/n's warm and slippery hole feels like heaven for minho and his cock, he loves how it grips his cock and y/n loves how he can feel every vein and twitch of minho's cock inside him, how it brushes his prostate, it is like he was in paradise.

y/n's cock was rock hard so minho take advantage of it and started stroking it to help y/n to release his cum. "i'm gonna thrust harder so bare with me y/n. be quiet we don't want someone watching how your naughty hole swallows my cock, right?" y/n nodded. dirty squelching sounds can be heard, coming from y/n's sinful hole being stretched by minho's fat cock. y/n starts to feel weird signaling he's about to cum, he spit the underwear "i feel weird mr. doctor". "that's okay y/n" he keeps thrusting harder and harder "that means you're gonna release soon" and as soon as minho says that y/n moaned loudly but thankfully minho was fast to cover his mouth, ropes of white thick cum spill out if y/n's slit painting his abdomen, chest and part of his face in white, while minho came inside him.

"fuck that was the best fuck of my life y/n" says minho "let me keep fucking my cum deep inside you so it won't spill out of it when you're walking home"...

"thanks for today mr. doctor" said y/n already dressed and shaking minho's hand, suddenly a loud bang can be heard making bith yelp in surprise, it was a nurse, everyone outside heard y/n's "scream" so they tought he needed help.

"it's everything ok mr. y/n, we heard a scream" asked the nurse worried, "oh yes yes everything it's ok don't need to worry" answered minho "he's just a silly boy scared of needles nothing more" minho laughed squeezing y/n's ass, "yeah yeah, i'm sorry for worrying you miss nurse" smiled y/n "so see you in the next appointment mr. doctor" winked y/n at minho who smiled at him, then the patient just walks out of the office.

"i think i became addicted to that ass" murmured minho fixing his glasses "next patient please" he yells while he goes back to his desk and fixes his coat.

[akgvgassociates]

The M&A journey: A guide to joining forces for a better future

Mergers and Acquisitions (M&A) are complex transactions that can benefit companies with increased revenue, market share, and competitive advantage. However, they also need meticulous planning, execution, and post-merger integration to ensure a successful outcome. That’s where M&A advisors come in, offering end-to-end support on deals, from planning to successful closure and post-merger integration. Read More:  The M&A journey: A guide to joining forces for a better future

[celestialprincesse]

Can you please do an anemic reader on who her lack of red blood cells are getting worse enough that she has to be hospitalized?! And we have to see soaps reaction?!

OHH He shits his pants

It's a routine blood draw, nothing you're not used to. Just a cell count to make sure everything's working properly and that your supplements don't need to have their dosage increased.

"So this here is the red blood cells.." The nurse drones as you sit in one of the consultancy rooms of the local hospital, chin resting in the crook of your palm. "They're low enough that we'll need to keep you in for a couple of days for an iron transfusion and monitoring before and after."

"I'm sorry?" You choke, snapped from your reverie as you look at the nurse and your results paper she currently points at.

"It's really nothing to worry about. We'll keep a good eye on you, you'll probably be in for three days, tops." "No but I have work." The woman across from you looks frustrated at your resistance as she raises an eyebrow your way. "I'd really strongly advise you not to go back to work like this. It'll only exacerbate your condition." "Right. Fine. Can I just make a call quick? Get my boyfriend to swing by with some essentials." "This isn't prison. You can call who you like when you like."

You tap your foot anxiously on the linoleum floor of the hallway as the phone rings persistently, waiting for Johnny to pick up.

"Bonnie! How'd it go?" John's Scottish brogue still manages to send flutters to your tummy, even after three years of dating and just having received bad news.

"They're keeping me in for a few days." The anxiety in your voice is obvious, and John can practically picture you worrying at your bottom lip.

"Why? Wha' happened?" "Just a really low red blood cell count. They're going to monitor and do a transfusion on Wednesday. I was wondering if you could bring me some stuff? Toothbrush and pyjamas and whatnot?" "Course I'll bring ye a bag. Text me what ye need and I'll be there in a half hour." "Thank you Johnny." "You dinnae need to thank me. I love ye, bringin' a bag is nothing." "Well, thank you anyways."

Johnny must've sped with how quickly he gets to the hospital, conveniently sporting his tags on the outside of his khaki hoodie and a pair of military issue boots. If his charm isn't enough to wriggle the visiting hours around, his job most certainly is.

You give a little soft 'Hi' and he's already dropping a black duffel to his feet, scooping you up, trying to ease the tension from your back by rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades.

"Bought all yer things. Clean clothes, washbag, laptop, chargers." "You're an angel." "Am no, 'm just very worried for my woman."

[sitp-recs]

Hullo! I was wondering if you have any good recs for extremely magically inclined Draco or Harry? Or both? Like they exude badass, and they are in awe of each other. Maybe with a hint of morally grayness? I've ran through quite a few tags of the like and have deeply enjoyed them and was wondering if you had a few goodies.

Hi anon! I definitely got a few recs for you, some with morally gray characters as a treat 🙌

Powerful Harry:

Under Pressure by VivacissimoVoce (M, 21k)

Harry Potter has quit magic and left the wizarding world. Draco, a top-notch Tracker, has been hired to find him and save his life.

And One To Play by @tackytigerfic (E, 21k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Powerful Draco:

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

The Foxing Ring by @vukovich (E, 24k)

Harry's got no magic, one good ear, no great dating prospects, and a nice little wand workshop. Draco's got too much magic, a history of biting off ears, no great dating prospects, and a growing fondness for wandmakers. And a very fetching tail.

A Pocket Full of Stones by @amywaterwings (E, 68k)

A curse is spreading through the wizarding world, erasing memories of the war. Harry Potter is on the case! Where Draco is the DMLE’s most wanted dark wizard and Harry is the private investigator tasked with bringing him in. It goes as well as one might expect.

Threshold by @kbrick (E, 126k)

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy finally gets his chance to consult with the Auror Department when a series of mysterious doors covered in runic symbols appear all across the country, only to fade away minutes later. Draco’s eager to help solve the mystery of the doors until he’s partnered with Harry Potter, who still treats him like an enemy.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

[sunsetkerr]

MRS ARNOLD | m. arnold

summary: headcanons of what is was like to being mrs arnold.

pairing: fem!reader x mackenzie arnold

notes: my very first piece that isn't sam???????? what???? this was a request, and I've decided that on occasion I will accept requests for other players, see my masterlist so you know who to request for!! If they aren't there, I most likely won't write for them, but there is never ever any harm in asking. if you have anymore questions/thoughts about mrs arnold, send them in so we can chat about her!! lots of love!!

you had been around football your entire life

your dad was a trainer for west ham’s womens team

you grew up a die-hard west ham fan

you played as a kid and a teenager

but as you got older you decided to head onto a different path

you studied audiology once you graduated high school 

focused on your studies and graduated as one of the top students in your degree

your family was so proud of you

of course you still watched football once you stopped playing

you never missed a match (and your dad would never let you)

 in 2023, you were at the height of your career, heading into owning your own clinic

you were loving your job

so when your dad asked you to come in and take a look at one of his players, you were surprised

but of course, you weren’t one to ever say no to him

you arrived at chadwell heath and received a great reception

everyone there knew you as your dad’s daughter

they loved having you around

you walked into your dads office not thinking about it

when you were met with mackenzie

you hadn’t officially met her before

but up close, wow, she was even more breathtaking than in goal

as you went to apologise for barging in on her, your dad came in

he introduced mackenzie to you and explained why he had brought you in

she had suspected that she was suffering from hearing loss

you tried your best to tread lightly on the topic as it was a relatively new concept to her

she was familiar with hearing loss

her brother had worn hearing aids since he was young

but she had never considered needing them herself

you said that you could book her in for an audiology test and have a look

you ended up diagnosing her later that week

mackenzie was so grateful for you

for such a hard experience, you sure made it easy

she was in awe of you and how smart you were

she marvelled at your mind

you were just so intelligent

she couldn’t help herself

you stayed close after fitting her for her hearing aids

you would be in the change room at half-time at west ham home games

you were technically working as a ‘personal player consultant’ on the medical team

(thanks dad)

but really, you just wanted to be near mackenzie

she was starting to excel even more in her game (if that was possible)

and she always chalked it up to you

‘well since y/n fitted my hearing aids’

‘y/n did the most really’

‘she’s just so smart, without her i’d be struggling still’

mackenzie gloated about you 24/7 to anyone who would listen

she ended up asking you on a date after four months of officially knowing each other

she found herself at your clinic way too often 

there was only so many times mackenzie could lie about a faulty battery

so when you mentioned how many times she had come in

she was a blushing mess, but managed to murmur out

‘would you want to get dinner tonight?’

you said yes right away

you had only been waiting four months for her to ask

she asked you to be her girlfriend on your fourth time out together

(after getting a very big hint from your dad that you were waiting)

‘already made her wait for that date, macca. wouldn’t want to keep her waiting much longer’

she called you after that conversation and said she was taking you out that night

you couldn’t really ask for more with mackenzie

she was everything you wanted in a person

and now you get to watch west ham matches from the player suites

not just the friends and family section 

[love-archer]

More to love. . .

♡ pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 (You're here!) ♡

♡.Obey me!

♡♡.TW? SFW! Pregnancy, Fem!reader, Implied couple

♡♡♡. Two years brewing in my drafts 😵‍💫

. . . A S M O D E U S !

♡ Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust and embodiment of beauty, isn't typically associated with family life. Your fingers trace the lab report nervously. A baby. Your baby. His baby.

♡ That’s what’s whirling in your head as you stare at the lab report in the waiting room, fingers trace the laminated papers  nervously

♡ Would he accept this slowly or would he freak out? Wait, how can you tell him? Text? Drop it in a conversation randomly? Do those cute pregnancy reveal on Deviltube?

♡ The moment you decide to tell him is during a rare quiet evening in the Devildom. Asmodeus is meticulously applying his nightly skincare routine when you enter the bathroom, lab report clutched behind your back. "Darling?" His perfectly arched eyebrow raises, sensing something different in your demeanor. You slide the report onto his marble vanity, next to bottles of expensive serums and perfumes. His eyes widen, scanning the document. Silence. Then

♡ "PREGNANT?" His shriek could shatter glass. Dramatic reaction confirmed: tears sparkling like his favorite glitter eyeshadow  he launches himself into your arms. "A BABY? MY BABY? OH MY HELL!"

♡ His brothers will definitely hear this announcement. Lucifer will probably pinch the bridge of his nose. Satan would smack his door down, "Quiet down!". Mammon will immediately start calculating potential 'baby sponsorship' schemes with his modeling sessions. ♡ Asmodeus's excitement rapidly transforms into hyper-planning mode. ♡ Within days, he's calling every demon realm's top pediatric specialist. The pediatric specialists he consults aren't just doctors - they're the crème de la crème of the Devildom medical world. He has Solomon double-check their credentials and even gets Barbatos to recommend time-tested professionals who've dealt with human-demon pregnancies. ♡ He's ordering custom designer maternity wear for you (in matching sets, naturally). The maternity wardrobe he designs is EXTENSIVE. We're talking: silk robes with delicate demon realm embroidery, stretchy but luxurious dresses that "showcase your divine glow", custom pajama sets with his sigil subtly woven into the fabric, special occasion outfits for each milestone of pregnancy, even the undergarments are designer, because "comfort and style should never be compromised!"

♡ He's set into drafting elaborate nursery designs with themes ranging to "Royal Demon": Rich crimsons and blacks, with plush velvet and his signature roses to "Paradise Garden": Soft pastels with ethereal touches, butterfly motifs, and enchanted flowers that never wilt or to "Modern Devildom": Sleek lines with pops of neon, metallic accents ♡ Speaking of the nursery, with his never-ending favors to call in, he'd corner Leviathan or rather pester...

♡ "Leviiiii~ Don't you want to be the coolest uncle?" ♡ Finally, Leviathan would agree to use his brains and the cluttering materials in the ever-dim room to make a baby mobile. He'd throw ideas like Crystal flowers that catch and reflect light like anime sparkles or Something engraved with Asmodeus' mark in hot pink or one with a mirror....perhaps? ♡ From the moment pregnancy becomes real, Asmodeus persuades yoga into your monthly schedule after days with his sweet voice tugging you off the couch to pin you in his bed, cuddling and his hands rubbing your hips, his fleeting kisses on your cheek, "My darling.......Tension isn't good for either of you. Let me take care of those muscles."

♡ His idea of prenatal yoga is pure luxury - transforms his room into a private studio with scented candles, silk cushions, and ambient lighting. "Ambiance is essential for both beauty AND wellness, darling~"

♡ Always positions himself behind you during poses, hands carefully supporting your waist. "Just like that, love. Let me guide you..." His touch is surprisingly gentle, more caring than flirtatious.

♡ Gets absolutely delighted when the baby moves during sessions. "Oh! They're already developing my sense of rhythm!" He'll pause everything just to feel the movement, pressing soft kisses to your belly.

♡ Creates a special pre-natal skincare routine for you, researching safe ingredients for hours. His bathroom counter becomes divided between his products and yours, all labeled with cute heart stickers.

♡ Insists on documenting everything. Weekly photoshoots of your growing bump, decorated with flowers and silk ribbons. Has Solomon enchant a special album that captures magical 3D memories.

♡ The first time he holds the baby, his usual perfect composure completely dissolves. Tears pool at his eyes, but for once, he doesn't care. Keeps whispering "perfect, perfect, perfect" while counting those tiny fingers and toes.

❦ © love-archer 2024, all rights reserved ❦

[hlficlibrary]

HL FIC LIBRARY ✤ AUTHOR REC

AO3: juliusschmidt

Tumblr: @juliusschmidt

STATS:

✤ Number of fics: 67

✤ Posting Since: 2013

TOP 5 FICS:

1️⃣ Cameras Flashing {E, 81k}

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

2️⃣ Introduction to Dynamics {E, 29k}

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

3️⃣ I'll Fly Away {E, 122k}

Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.

ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.

4️⃣ little wings on my shoes {M, 39k}

You have C Lunch?” Louis asks, peering over at Harry's work. The problem Harry’s just finished is printed neatly, the correct answer circled. Harry’s finger marks the next problem in his book as he copies it onto the page. It doesn’t look like he’s stealing the answers out of the back. Nice. 

He’s dimpled and smart. 

And probably gay.

[The American High School AU in which no one is cool (except Niall) and Harry wears a rainbow bracelet.]

5️⃣ The Worst Fucking Idea {M, 3k}

Liam suggests Harry and Louis do Seven Minutes in Heaven, just like they always used to in high school.

HIDDEN GEM:

💎 the bearded stranger {M, 1k}

Harry wakes up to a bearded stranger in his bed.