#is there a word for being attracted to voices

[kesujo]

Baby, Mommy's Here

I HAD TO WRITE AN EMERGENCY TAEYEON FIC BECAUSE OF THESE PICTURES (those who follow me sorta have gotten some not-so-subtle hints of the release of this fic :p)

ALSO, ENJOY THIS ONE TOO

I didn't edit/revise this b/c I'm sort of in a hurry. Please let me know if you find any mistakes! :D

Word count: 12.8K

Never in your life did you think you’d be in such a relationship. The past you might’ve judged you for it—scratch that, the past you would’ve hard judged you for it, maybe even going so far as to looking down on you for letting yourself acclimate to such a relationship. However, now that it’s happening, it’s like you’ve been truly awakened. This is the best way life is to be lived; sure, there are many people who give you weird looks, sure, some of your friends make fun of you and in fact, you get the feeling that some of them have distanced themselves from you upon learning of the type of relationship you’re in, but you’re long past the point of caring about that. In fact, Taeyeon herself has helped you get over the judgmental attitudes the ones who were close to you have adopted towards you.

What have you ever done to deserve your current lifestyle? You figure you must’ve been Mother Theresa or Mahatma Gandhi in your previous life to get this type of treatment and attention from the peak specimen of a woman that is Kim Taeyeon.

Beautiful, sexy, confident, but also kind, caring, gentle, empathetic … what does she not have? Money, certainly, isn’t the answer to that question: and while, as you’ve experienced, her level of wealth very much grants Taeyeon the ability to live as lavishly as any other multi-millionaire CEO, and the combination of her attractive appearance and personality makes it so that she should be able to get together with any man in the world. But, for some reason, she settled for you.

Rather, it’s not ‘for some reason’.

“This is a secret from the public, and I prefer you keep it this way.” Of course, you nod frantically. It was one of the first times you’ve seen Taeyeon in person, and being this close to her is making your heart go haywire and turning your brain to goo. “I am … shall I say, nearly infertile.” It was one of your first meetings, so hearing her being so vulnerable to you makes you feel thankful that she feels like she can be this way with you but also unworthy of bearing this knowledge. Still, you say nothing and let her continue. “That is to say, there are only certain men that I am compatible with, and even amongst those men, it would still be troublesome for me to become pregnant. And, as a woman who wants to have children of her own, you can see where my issue lies.” You nod again. Frankly, you don’t trust your voice to crack or to not stammer out even single-word replies.

“And that’s where you come in. I believe you participated in a test group regarding your own fertility?” You rack your memory – did you? You’ve signed up to participate in all sorts of studies, because you figure, why not, really? It can’t hurt that much, you’re helping the advancement of science, and you’re so unremarkable that you figure no one would the type of information these test groups ask for. “The researchers did indeed, use your specimen for its intended purpose, but in return for funding them, I had them also test for compatibility with me.” That sounds … vaguely illegal? But honestly, you can’t care less. Of all the test groups you’ve participated in, this is by far the greatest outcome, the best reward you’ve ever gotten. “And, it turns out, we’re compatible. Also, it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite cute.”

As a man, you perhaps shouldn’t have felt so happy hearing that from a woman. However, given that Taeyeon is almost a decade older than you, you’re more than happy to be her cute little partner. “Th-Thank, Thank you.”

Your face turns beet red, but Taeyeon simply smiles at your stammering. “No need to be shy. You’re mine now, and likewise, I’m yours.”

So she says, but the dynamic of the relationship quickly becomes clear: because Taeyeon has a lot of business to attend to, it’s often times you helping take care of the house along with the staff of house caretakers Taeyeon has at her disposal. She’s the one with the money, and she’s also insisted that your only job to be help her out with her job whenever she so asks for it, which you feel is much less frequently than she could be.

Essentially, realistically, Taeyeon is your sugar momma. And this relationship, while you figured might’ve felt a little demeaning at first, is perfectly fulfilling.

When Taeyeon is home, she’s the typical caring, doting wife, albeit with the caveat that she sometimes requests massages from you after a long day of work or vents to you about a project that’s being bottlenecked by something or another. When you’re outside with Taeyeon, the paparazzi that seems to be perpetually following you probably would never guess this bit about your dynamic: you pay for the meals as much as Taeyeon does, you still hold the door open for her, and you still drive the car more than she does if you two ever feel like not utilizing her personal chauffer.

In private is where the dynamic is a little more obvious: whenever Taeyeon requests something of you, you instantly drop whatever it is that you’re doing and rush to her side—but then again, that could just be seen as a doting, caring partner. And, of course—

“Ooh, honey, yes…”

It’s an absolutely hypnotic sight, seeing Taeyeon grinding against your crotch with your dick buried inside her to the hilt, her head thrown back and her hands on your waist. You’ve, of course, seen pictures of her all over the place, but the novelty of seeing those sizable tits hanging out in the open, each decorated with a squeezable bud at the tip that’s begging to be squeezed, but you don’t dare act out of line. In the first few months of your budding relationship, you feel like you’re fighting to show her your worth.

“Gosh, it feels so good…”

The sex is amazing, and you can’t get over how great Taeyeon’s pussy feels, and that in combination with the soft, velvety texture of her skin against your hands drives you insane, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel that this is still somewhat transactional.

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

That thought only slightly detracts from the sex. The moment you entered this relationship with Taeyeon, she requested you to leave your previous job and to work for her—she doesn’t give you much work, though. It’s more like menial tasks, like, ‘please sort through my email inbox every morning and delete all the obvious spam and junk mail’, ‘please help me find a good place for a dinner with some stockholders’, that kind of stuff. You don’t particularly mind: you want to make yourself as useful to Taeyeon as possible.

“Does that feel good, honey?”

You can tell Taeyeon is putting in effort into this relationship, though: from day one, she all but ditched calling you your real name in favor of these pet names, such as ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, et cetera. You’re thankful of her for that. In fact, it only makes you want to prove your worth to her even more.

“Yes, it feels so good, Taeyeon.”

You, on the other hand, don’t feel like you’ve earned the right to call her those pet names yet. It almost feels like you’re a puppy wagging its tail at its owner, seeking approval and validation and attention, something you might’ve ordinarily felt as demeaning now feels actually somewhat fulfilling. Every day, you strive towards this singular goal: be worthy of being the man Taeyeon chose as her partner.

“Are you close?”

“Almost…”

Taeyeon takes your hands and places them on her boobs. “You like these, don’t you?”

Would it be ruder to blatantly, but honestly say, ‘yes, I love them so much, I sometimes find myself unable to stop looking at them’, to not say anything at all, or to deny it?

“You don’t have to deny it, baby.”

Seeing the reassuring smile on Taeyeon’s face is what lets you respond with, “Yes, I love them.”

“You know, you’re my partner. You don’t have to sneak peaks at my boobs, you can just look at them.”

It’s a growing process, for sure. Gradually getting used to each other, getting over your initial feeling of intimidation of Taeyeon after learning about how much of a sweetheart Taeyeon is outside her sharp, crisp, always-fashionable and always-beautiful CEO look takes some work, and Taeyeon is helping along with that process tremendously.

“Thanks, Taeyeon.”

You try to resist squeezing those almond nipples for as long as possible, but in the end, you’re only human. And then, hearing Taeyeon moan when you finally give in feeds the fire, and suddenly, you’re all over her boobs, grinding and smacking into her pussy while your hands carefully knead and massage her tits and give her nipples the occasional squeeze that sends Taeyeon into another moaning frenzy.

“Yes, keep going!”

“Taeyeon, I’m close. Where…?”

“Go ahead, baby! Inside me!”

You almost don’t know why you asked. Every single time the two of you have had sex, without fail, Taeyeon has insisted that you cum inside her—and, despite the sheer number of times it’s happened, she still has yet to become pregnant. It’s gotten to the point where you’re starting to wonder if it’s an issue with you, but Taeyeon has reassured you that isn’t the case—the test group that you partook in also returned results of your own fertility, of which is in the normal range for the average male.

“Fuck, cumming—”

And, without fail, every time you burst inside her, the hot, sticky walls of Taeyeon’s pussy squeezes you dry, coaxing out every last drop as if milking you for all that you were worth.

After letting you ride out your orgasm, Taeyeon dismounts you and lays by your side. “That was great, honey.”

How kind and considerate Taeyeon is only makes you feel worse, knowing that you still have yet to make her cum a single time. At least, as far as you know. You don’t dare bring this up, though; it’s an awkward subject, despite how many times you’ve came inside her already, and you don’t want to remind Taeyeon of your inadequacy.

“Yeah, it was,” is all you can say, for now.

In any romantic relationship, mutual attraction is a must. At least, in your books, it is. Maybe it’s the nature of a CEO like Taeyeon to take a more calculative stance on romantic relationships—but then again, you don’t believe that, seeing how Taeyeon takes the time out of her busy day to spend time with you: watching movies, having meals, chatting about random things, going golfing or go-karting or renting out an entire amusement park for a few hours to have fun in. For you, attraction to Taeyeon is instant, and only solidifies over time: for Taeyeon, you can tell it’s taking some time.

You do everything in your power to expedite the process: you take on cooking, taking lessons from Taeyeon’s personal chef so that you can cook meals for your 100-day and 200-day anniversaries, and although you consider yourself more knowledgeable than the average guy in this area, you still take more time to learn about fashion and makeup so that you can be at least somewhat presentable next to Taeyeon in public, you carefully plan out surprise dates for her to get her to stop thinking about work for a bit, and as time passes, you can start noticing the difference. Taeyeon is gradually, actively, making more effort to spend time with you, even going so far as to push deadlines or forgo work once every month or so, and it’s immensely gratifying to see your hard work paying off.

There are other ways you can see your hard work paying off, too.

“Oh my gosh, baby, I’m—!” Taeyeon, relentless as ever, demanded a second round before going to sleep that night, and it’s before your second orgasm that you’re finally able to see Taeyeon succumb to hers, purely by your efforts. “—I’m cumming, oh my go—!”

Her svelte frame shudders and convulses beneath your own, her eyes now fully shut and her head pressed deep into the pillow. Her hips violently buck against your crotch, so you obey the unspoken request of her body: you don’t relent, you continue to fuck her fiercely, to let her ride out her orgasm by adding pressure your right index finger and thumb are applying to her clit, and drink in this marvelous sight. It’s a whole other type of novelty, to see Taeyeon’s climax before your very eyes. If you thought the sight of her nude body was a mind-shatteringly sexy sight, the sight of seeing that body rocking and vibrating as your cock continued to slam into the deepest parts of her womb is on a completely other level—and then, to know that it’s you who did this, who turned Taeyeon into this moaning, screaming, convulsing mess brings you to your own orgasm.

“Fuck, Taeyeon, I’m also cumming…”

“Let it all out, baby! Give me everything!”

When your orgasm subsided, you spent a few seconds recovering from the sheer intensity of that climax, taking a second before pulling out of her and letting your body fall onto the bed next to her.

“Wow … baby, that was amazing.”

“It was. You were amazing.”

“Mmm. Thank you so much, honey.” She gave you one last peck on the cheek before drifting off to sleep, a normally harmless and cute gesture of her gratitude that kept you up far too late. However, when you drifted off to sleep yourself, you found that, the next morning, you felt more refreshed than ever.

There were certain complications with their night activities, first and foremost being how often they needed to get their bedsheets cleaned. The fact that Taeyeon always went to sleep with your cum still leaking out of her pussy is definitely the reason behind it, and you’re somewhat shocked to find out that the normally pristine and proper Taeyeon didn’t think twice about soiling the bedsheets every time you bred her.

The second complication was, as the two of you grew closer, the sex started happening in places outside of the bedroom: at first, it was relatively private places like the shower or her wardrobe, but gradually evolved to such places as—

“Mmm, yes, right there, babe!” The sound of her ass slapping against your crotch echoes about the spacious kitchen. Taeyeon’s knuckles having turned white from the intensity of her grip on the kitchen’s island table as you relentlessly pound her into it. “Keep going!”

Taeyeon’s house is rather big—not mansion big, but still big enough to mandate a cleaning staff. In addition, Taeyeon’s personal chef comes every morning and leaves around noon: the schedule of the caretakers of her house is very precise, but there is still some kind of novelty in having sex somewhere other people frequent.

“Fuck, Taeyeon…”

It’s something you can never get tired of: the feeling of her soft waist in your hands, the sputtering of her juices onto your groin, the way your hips bounce off her bubbly butt, the beautiful melody of her moans, the sight of her, sweaty and hot and aroused, her back arched and her sizable tits jiggling with the force of your every thrust, watching your cock disappear between her flopping, glistening pink folds over and over again, all of it.

“Yes! Pound me into the table! Harder!”

Of course, you’re all too willing to comply. Given her rather small, frail-looking frame, you’ve learned that Taeyeon is able to take quite a bit of punishment, something you are more than willing to dish out whenever she asks for it. This isn’t the first time she’s asked you to be rough on her, so you’re more or less used to this type of dirty talk: however, what she says next is not something you’re used to.

“Grab my hair! Push my face into the table!”

You’re a little hesitant at first, but with how fervently she’s taking your cock, you realize she isn’t really giving you much space to argue. So, as always, you obey.

“Yes, mommy.”

As you reach out to grab a fistful of her hair, she turns a surprised eye to you. It’s only then that you realize what came out of your mouth.

“‘Mommy’?”

Why did you say that? You try to be careful with your words, but have lately been finding it easier and easier to let words slip out of your mouth without a second thought. And now that she was looking at you, a sudden pang of fear crept up inside you. Did you fuck up? “Um, I’m, I’m so sorr—”

“No…” There is clear conflict on Taeyeon’s face. On one hand, she’s surprised to hear you call her that, and part of her feels like she ought to be repulsed by it in some way, but part of her finds it hot. It’s not lost on Taeyeon that the nature of your relationship with you makes you her sugar baby, especially with the age gap that exists between you two. It’s … fitting. “…don’t be sorry. Keep going, baby.”

What happened? Is Taeyeon not mad? She seemed to be … somewhat accepting of it?

You don’t decide to push your luck though, and when she turns back around, you continue where you left off by grabbing her hair and, gently, pushing her face into the cold marble surface of the island table.

“Fuuck…”

You’re genetically compatible with her, and even your physical build is compatible with her: you’re at just the right height to comfortably drill into her from above like this, with her feet slightly raised and her ass in the air, smacking into your damp groin repeatedly. The wet sounds of the impact echo about the otherwise empty residence: outside, the gardener should be attending to the multitude of flowers and trees that surround the house, but there is no view inside the kitchen from anywhere the gardener might be.

“Yes, keep going, ruin me!”

“Fuck, Taeyeon—” you other hand leaves her waist and comes down, hard, onto her ass. She lets out a noise that lays somewhere between a squeal and a moan. “—you’re so much.”

“More, babe! Keep going!”

It’s second nature to you, by now, to obey her every command, but this is something you don’t need her to tell you to do. The second smack, then the third, the fourth, the fifth, and by the sixth, you can start to see a red imprint in the rough shape of your palm appearing on her otherwise pale, snowy-white romp.

“Fuck! Babe, please, it’s so good!”

Her words are slightly muffled by the fact that you’re pushing her face into the table; her face is turned to the side, but even still, her cheeks are so slim that even the slightest bit of pressure nearly causes her lips to be touching the marble.

“You’re so insatiable.” You’re using your knees to keep yourself aligned with her, one hand adjusting its grip on her silky, chocolate hair while the other alternates between caressing and smacking her juicy ass. “I love it.”

“I’m so close! Babe, please!”

The coolness of the marble surface is also pressing into her tits, and specifically, her erect nipples. On top of the ferocious pounding you’re giving her, the ass-smacking from one of your hands and the pressing on her head into the table from the other, the temperature play at yet another one of her erogenous zones is stimulating Taeyeon to the max. The longer it draws on, the more the intensity of your thrusts and the force of your hand onto her ass increases, and the higher she pushes herself onto the balls of her feet, doing everything she can to maximize the contact between you and her.

By now, you can more or less tell how close Taeyeon is to her climax; although you haven’t gotten it down to an exact science yet, you can tell that you’re going to reach your peak first. Ever since you’ve gained the ability to make Taeyeon climax, you selfishly want to make sure she’s reaching it every single time: of all the things you can never get tired of from Taeyeon, seeing her coming to an orgasm because of you is at the top of that list.

So, you use the cheat button. You stop slapping her ass, the red imprint on it just about glowing by now, and your hand dives between her legs. It takes a second to find her clit, but when you do, you don’t use it right away: you’ve learned that it’s more effective if you do what you’re doing now, which is to tease it by rubbing the perimeter of it first. Taeyeon, on the other hand, starts losing her mind; her moans become desperate yelps and whines, and when you finally reward her patience by squeezing on her pleasure button, she unfolds all at once.

“Fffuuuck!”

The goal was to at least align your climaxes at least somewhat, but you definitely weren’t expecting to make Taeyeon cum first. In fact, you’re so stunned by this that you momentarily stop moving, only reminded to keep going by Taeyeon’s urging.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, I’m cumming so hard, oh my god, oh my—”

This is the first time that Taeyeon has reached her climax before you. Try as you might before, even doing foreplay such as cunnilingus or using your fingers, it was always you that buckled first. But now, seeing your misses unravel so completely, shaking and lathering your cock and your groin with her love nectar, turns you on so completely that your climax follows shortly after.

“Fuck, cumming—”

Taeyeon jolts again as the jet of warm, viscous liquid enters her womb. “Unng, fuck, yes, fill me up, babe!”

This time, Taeyeon didn’t have the benefit of the bedsheets to soak up the fluids flowing out of her hole; you help her clean up, and when she’s done, she pecks you on the lips. And that’s another thing you can never get tired of: the feeling of her soft, velvety lips on yours, and the fragrant aroma that wafts into your nose when her face presses into yours.

“I can’t believe how amazing that was, babe. You were … wow…”

You let out a laugh. “I’m glad you liked it. You were so sexy, as always.”

There wasn’t a room in the house that was spared from your and Taeyeon’s antics: the dining room, the living room, every room in the spacious abode became witness to your breeding attempts. Each had their own benefits, too: the dining room had the comfortable chairs that you could use, the living room had the open space and a TV to use to add into the fun, the game room was filled with various makeshift tools that enhanced the experience—such as using a pool stick as a yoke or restraint bar, forcing Taeyeon’s arms behind her back and leaving her completely helpless to you—and the music room, which she apparently had installed into her house because of some vocal lessons she eventually dropped due to lack of time, but something for which you can personally vouch for her insane natural talent of, whose excellent acoustics allow you to hear Taeyeon’s beautiful, musical moans in ways you’ve never heard them before. It wasn’t an everyday thing, though, nor even necessarily a once-a-week thing—in fact, there would even be stretches of two, three months with no sex. Someone as busy as Taeyeon simply didn’t always have the time, or would just come home and let you guide her to her bed and fall asleep to the full-body massage you’ve spent so much time learning to do.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though—being the publicly-known boyfriend of perhaps the world’s first idol-CEO, who first garnered attention for her immaculate looks at the fashion shows she would attend, then further fame from appearing on the Forbes’ ’30 Under 30’ list. What would the fanbase of an idol-CEO look like? It turned out, pretty similar to the fanbase of a singer-idol: from the moment your relationship with Taeyeon went public, the two of you were met with waves upon waves of backlash. Taeyeon, being used being in the spotlight and frankly, not particularly caring for these kinds of matters as her job wasn’t as closely tied to public sentiment as a singer-idol’s was, was barely phased by it. You, however: someone who was a nobody before this, who was a five or six out of ten at best, and now with the amount of effort you put into fashion and your appearance now, is perhaps a seven or maybe an eight if you squinted real hard and captured the exact perfect angle, but who looks like a four next to the perfect ten out of ten that Taeyeon always was, was bound to be met with heaps of jealous, indignant, angry fans.

It was easy enough to stop using social media—‘easy’ enough, that is—but when you’re just walking about normally, shopping for furniture or new shampoo or fetching some new makeup products that Taeyeon has you pick up? When Taeyeon proposed to hire a bodyguard for you, you immediately shoot it down. You, need a bodyguard? Who are you to require such a thing?

The answer was simple: the news articles of random people on the street harassing you, throwing junk at you, something you tried to keep quiet about but met Taeyeon’s wrath regarding when she found out, not from you telling her, but from a news article.

“How could you not tell me?!”

“I’m … I’m so sorry…”

“No! It’s not—” Taeyeon sinks into her chair and buries her face in her hands. “—it’s not you who needs to be sorry.” Her voice softens considerably, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize: she’s crying.

“Taeyeon? Honey?”

“You need to tell me about these things!” When she lifts her head to speak to you, your suspicions are confirmed: eyes sparkling, cheeks glistening with tears, lips pulled into a pronounced frown. “I can protect you! Why would you—”

“Because I’m a man!” You don’t intend to yell, but it’s too late. “I don’t want to need my girlfriend to protect me! I have a pride as a man, too, even if you’re the—” you don’t dare finish that sentence. You’re already yelling at her, you don’t need to step over that line.

“I’m the what?” she snaps. “I’m the CEO? I’m the older one? I’m the one with the money?”

“It—none of that matters. It wasn’t that big of a deal, anyway. A bruise here and there, it’s fine.”

“But it’s not fine! What if something worse happens down the line? If you continue to let these people walk all over you, what if they start throwing bigger, heavier things at you? What if you get hospitalized? What would I do then?”

“Why would you care, as long as my penis works fine.”

…

Wait.

What the fuck did you just say?

The silence is deafening. You can hear your heart racing inside your chest. It’s painful. It’s a twisting, churning sensation inside you, but worse than that is the fact that Taeyeon isn’t saying anything. You want to take it back. So badly. But, you can’t. What would you say?

“I—I need to go.”

“Honey, wait—”

For the first time since you’ve started this relationship, you disobey her. You continue walking, straight out of her office, and don’t stop until you reach a bar.

Is doing this going to ruin your reputation, and more importantly, Taeyeon’s reputation even more? Almost definitely. But at that moment, you don’t care. You probably don’t need to care much about Taeyeon’s reputation for much longer. You don’t remember the rest of the night at all, and wake up the next morning with a terrible, pounding headache. It takes a while to acquire your surroundings, and when you do, you realize you’re in the VIP room of the hospital Taeyeon’s doctor works at: a place you’ve visited to make sure you are, indeed, fertile, and for a few vaccines that you didn’t think of getting until Taeyeon suggested it.

Taeyeon, Taeyeon, Taeyeon. Your whole life revolves around Taeyeon. And now, what did you do to her? Imply that she’s only using you as a breeding horse, as if you can’t feel how much she loves you in the voice messages she sends you when she can’t come home about how she misses you, or the meal she cooked for you on your 400th day anniversary, or the various other gifts she showers you with because of some passing comment you don’t remember making the next day. All of that, and then that terrible thing you said to her, and she’s still taking care of you?

When the nurse bursts through the door and calls your name, your head is buried inside your hands. “Do you still have a hangover? I’ll get—”

“No, it’s ok.”

“…ok. Ms. Taeyeon is on her way.”

“I—” who are you to make demands of others? Especially since you’re only in this room because of her. Does she still love you? Does she still believe in you?

The next person to burst through the doors and call your name is none other than Kim Taeyeon herself. “Oh my god, sweetheart, I was so worried when I couldn’t get a reach of you and couldn’t find you at home…”

You listlessly try to escape her embrace, but Taeyeon is having none of that. She squeezes your head against her chest, and from the way you can feel her shaking, you can tell that she’s crying. Again. Because of you.

“I don’t deserve you, Taeyeon.”

“What?”

“Let’s be honest. I’m a nobody. You’re … you’re probably the only CEO in the world who has such a dedicated fanbase. Or, one of. Yet, you’re tying yourself down to me?”

“Don’t say that! I chose you because I love you!”

“No, you didn’t.” Taeyeon releases her embrace of you. This time, you meet her gaze. You feel like you need to. “You chose me because I’m compatible with you, right?”

“Oh…” Why does Taeyeon look so crestfallen? Seeing her in such a state twists at your heartstrings, so you stay silent and let her gather her thoughts. “…that’s not what I meant. It’s true, that I initially chose you because of that, but … I meant, I chose to stay with you because I fell in love with you. I chose you. Not because of your compatibility with my condition, but because of you. Not because of your penis, or your genes, or anything.”

And, the thing is, you know this. Is it simply because it’s hard to believe? That an amazing, a perfect woman like Taeyeon would ever want to be with someone like you? Is it that pride you have, as a man, that makes you want to be stubborn?

“I’m sorry.” It doesn’t matter what it was. Taeyeon, just her being here with you, despite how busy she must be, despite the fires she must be trying to put out regarding news articles that have probably been released about the boyfriend of the famous idol-CEO Kim Taeyeon found passed out drunk at some random bar, is enough to forget all of that. “I didn’t mean to say those words. It was wrong of me.” Taeyeon’s lips are already being pulled into a frown, and her eyes are already starting to tear up again, but when you say, “I know this is asking a lot … but can you forgive me?” she bursts out into a sob.

“Of course! Of course, I forgive you, honey!”

The bodyguard was only necessary for the next two months; after Taeyeon released a public statement, threatening to sue for damages and the netizens for their defamatory comments, you found being in public much more bearable. That hurdle in your relationship seems to have flicked something in Taeyeon, who finally started giving you more work after you asked her so many times for it, in the hopes that you can help alleviate her immense workload. Was it your comment about still having pride as a man? Who knows, really. What was important was that, now that you could help Taeyeon with her duties, she could be home much more often. The times she couldn’t be home, for the various business trips her duties as a CEO dictated, however, she decided to start taking you along.

As any multi-millionaire CEO, Taeyeon has her own private jet and her own crew for the jet, including a pilot and co-pilot. However, what was different about this jet was one aspect—a rather large aspect, honestly. One room inside the jet, with stabilizers in three dimensions to reduce the impact of turbulence for the people inside the room. Why would that be necessary when seatbelts are the common solution to turbulence?

“Mmm, ooh, ooh yeah…”

Taeyeon’s face is inches above your own, her eyes gently closed as your cock, firmly wedged between her legs and inside her swelteringly hot pussy, pries apart her tight walls. With every thrust, more of her juices sputter out onto the comforter covering the bed you’re lying on, and with every thrust, Taeyeon’s moans split through the loud hum of the jet’s engines.

“Fuck … I’m going to miss this so much…”

“So this is why you had this bed installed in your jet, huh?” Your hands are firmly planted on either side of her hips; even though the room is being stabilized in all degrees of motion, you still need to keep her in place so you can plow into her with the force her tight pussy demands of you. “To get some last-minute cock before toiling away on this business trip?”

Taeyeon smiles at you. It’s a mischievous, playful type of smile, one that reminds you that Taeyeon is more than the strict, calculating CEO, or even than the warm-hearted, kind and caring girlfriend, that she makes herself out to be. “So what if I did?”

“I would’ve said, ‘I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a fiend for my cock’, but then, I would be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Ever since that incident, the two of you have grown closer than ever before. It’s maybe something about voicing your insecurities about the relationship, how you feel inadequate in your desire be the protector despite Taeyeon having more of the means to act in that capacity, but after smoothing all that out, the hesitance of teasing Taeyeon too much or of belittling her a little in jest has gone away once you realize, ‘Oh. Taeyeon just wants me to treat her like any other girlfriend would. Just because she’s my sugar momma, doesn’t mean she’s my superior. In a relationship, both partners are equal, and this one shouldn’t be any different.’

“I would be sad if my boyfriend didn’t already know how much I loved feeling his cock destroy my wet, tight little pussy.” There’s something about Taeyeon’s dirty talk, too. It just … gets to you. Taeyeon has such a regal appearance in public, and in private, such a cute, traditionally pretty appearance, that hearing such filth coming out of her lips almost feels wrong. It feels like it doesn’t belong somehow, and that contrast is exactly what does it for you. “And how I love it so much, I spent millions to get this built for us, just so I could squeeze in an extra few hours of feeling his thick, veiny cock splitting my walls apart and feeling his hot, creamy cum spill into me.”

You’re going to go crazy. That’s for sure. It’s how you feel every time Taeyeon dirty talks to you, which you have noticed has been increasing in frequency as of late.

“God, I can’t believe you, Taeyeon…”

“I’m right here, babe. Believe in me.”

“You’re … what did I ever do to deserve you?”

Taeyeon doesn’t answer, and instead places her hands on your cheek and leans in for a kiss. It’s an incredible feeling every time, feeling the warm, plump, soft texture pressing against your lips, and then feeling her tongue against yours, but especially when in combination with the feeling of her body pressed against yours, and feeling her wet, hot snatch trying to squeeze the life out of your cock—you feel even further above the clouds than you already are.

Your bodies move in unison, both of you moaning into the kiss that are subsequently drowned out by the ever-present roaring of the jet engines. For privacy reasons, Taeyeon had the room soundproofed and doors locked; even meals were served on a food tray through a tiny slit that could only be opened from inside the room. And here lay the millionth benefit of dating the finest specimen of a woman on planet Earth: Taeyeon was always so thorough, especially when it came to your combined private time, that you knew you could enjoy it thoroughly without fear of any interferences.

“God, I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you too, Taeyeon.”

“You always tell me that you feel lucky to have me, but haven’t you ever stopped to consider how lucky I feel to have you?” Your movements aren’t forceful and vigorous as they are usually; this time, they’re slower and more sensual. This time, it feels more like lovemaking than baby-making, and you don’t really know how to deal with that. “You adapted to such a different lifestyle so quickly, you’re always willing to help me even in ways I couldn’t imagine, you’re always so patient with me, and you’re even willing to learn all the weird and highly-specified parts of my job so that you can help me with it, all so you can spend more time with me. I’ve met with and talked to many men in my life, but I doubt a single one of them could do as amazing of a job as my partner in life than you.”

It’s pretty overwhelming. Scratch that, it’s insanely overwhelming. Taeyeon, as any doting girlfriend, gives you compliments all the time, but none feel as heartfelt and sincere as this one. It feels like a balloon growing inside your chest, that you can imagine is your ego or sense of self-worth or something, and Taeyeon is pumping air into it with all the strength her skinny little arms can manage. Which is a surprising about, mind you.

What can you do with all this … this elation? A sense of pure love and warmth and caring and everything—it feels too much to bear. So, you do the only thing you know to do in such a situation.

“And none of them could fuck you like I do.”

The loving gaze in Taeyeon’s eyes shatters, her eyes disappearing into upside-down crescents and her lips pulled apart to allow for her laughter to spill out. She smacks you on the shoulder. “I’m trying to be serious here!”

You laugh along with her. “I love this. I love you. Everything. I’m the luckiest person in the world right now, to have you with me.”

“To feel such a hot, tight pussy squeezing your cock?”

“Oh, now who’s being the unserious one here?”

Taeyeon grins at you. “I’m like this because of you. You know that, right?”

“What? Little old me, corrupted the pure, innocent idol-CEO Kim Taeyeon?” Taeyeon smacks you on the shoulder again.

“I told you I don’t like being called that.”

“What? Kim Taeyeon? But that’s your name.”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh, you don’t like being called pure or inno—” this time, Taeyeon interrupts you by suddenly starting to ride you, hard, causing your words to be cut off by a groan. “—fuck, babe…”

“Looks like mommy has to punish you for being such a naughty boy.”

Even with the constant droning of the jet engine’s roar, it’s like your ears can selectively pick out Taeyeon’s musical moans as she reaches her climax, and as you watch her ride you even more fiercely, you can only watch in absolute awe at the spectacle of Taeyeon succumbing to her orgasm atop your body, and the following visual of the creampie filling her cunt slowly trickling out of her hole and onto your body, and then onto the comforter when she rolls off you.

“So you’re coming around to that word, huh?”

Taeyeon nods. “I can’t believe I’m saying this … but it’s really hot.”

“Hmm, but not as hot as my mommy.”

Taeyeon nudges you a little, albeit with a smile on her face. “Shut up.”

Her response brings a smile to your own face. “Seeing as we’re not going to sleep, since it’s still probably around 6pm in our time, are you sure you don’t want to clean up?”

Taeyeon shakes her head. “I like feeling it inside me. Your cum. It’s so warm, and it feels like part of you is still inside me.” She leans against you and rests her head on your shoulder, which just so happens to fit perfectly into the crook of your neck. “Which, of course, it technically is. Or, was. Now, it’s mine.”

You let out a chuckle. “I didn’t know you were so possessive of my sperm.”

“I am! Your first baby should be with me. And all your babies in the future.”

“That’s the plan.”

Because of the privacy of the room, neither of you have to put on your clothes again, which are neatly stored in the modest closets that are also attached to the room. A little while after, the two of you enjoy dinner in the seats sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing it, while watching a movie on the TV hanging above the bed’s headboards, and then resume the movie cuddled up on the bed, watching it on the other TV situated between the seats, facing the bed.

There have been many instances in this new life that Taeyeon has pulled you into that made you realize that the wealthy actually live entirely different lives than most other people, and this is one of them. Even closing in on three years together, you’re still discovering all these new kinds of luxury that you couldn’t even fathom before meeting Taeyeon.

As the second movie’s credits start rolling, Taeyeon turns to you. “Ready?”

“Hm?”

Taeyeon swings her legs to the other side of your legs, her hands reaching down to rub your now growing erection. “I want more.”

The next time Taeyeon took you on a business trip, you immediately notice something different.

“Honey, who’s that seat for?”

Situated underneath the TV facing the bed is another, slightly wider, seat, with its backrest folded down. There seem to be some other things attached to it, but you can’t quite make out what they are.

“What do you mean? That’s for us.”

Taeyeon doesn’t elaborate further, only giving you a mysterious smile as you buckle yourselves up into the seats for takeoff. Once the captain notifies you that you’re free to move about the cabin, Taeyeon unbuckles herself from the seat and beckons for you to come.

“I still don’t understand…” you watch as she pushes the TV into the wall, pulls the seat out a little, and pulls up the backrest. And, as you watch it unfurl, you can start to see what she was going for.

“What are you doing with your clothes still on?” You chuckle but obey, storing your clothes into the closet, with Taeyeon following shortly. “Go ahead, sit down.”

“You seem … awfully excited about this.”

“I am!”

Both you and Taeyeon are switches. Sometimes, Taeyeon takes the lead and you’re more than ok with it, and sometimes, she lets you take the lead; sometimes, Taeyeon comes home from a long day of high-stress situations and you make sure she doesn’t have to make any more decisions, and sometimes, Taeyeon’s extended leave of absence from home makes both of you miss each other, which would more often than not result in Taeyeon exerting her will on you and you more than happy to be with her again. So, when you saw the wrist clamps extending about neck-level on either side of the backrest of the seat, you wondered who they were for: both of you, is probably the correct answer, but today, it was evident that Taeyeon wanted to use them.

“Hmm…” As your cock slides into her hot pussy, Taeyeon lets out a low moan, leaning back a bit onto your chest as she feels her walls being pulled apart, once again, by your girth. “Mmmm~”

“Always so tight for me, babe.”

“Always so hard for me, baby.” You plant a kiss next to her ear, eliciting a giggle; when you’re fully inside her, she directs you, “Help me with this?”

You turn your eyes to her hands—or, more accurately, her wrists, both of which are already inside the open wrist clamps. “You really want this?” Taeyeon nods fervently, so you waste no time in locking her wrists in place. And, just like that, her arms are suspended in the air, giving you full, unadulterated access to her entire body, left entirely to your whims.

“I’m all yours, baby.”

Such a situation is a dream-come-true for any sane, straight man: one of the most attractive, sexiest woman on the planet—in your eyes, the most attractive and the sexiest woman on the planet—giving herself up to you, fully. The only limbs she can control are her legs, but after you start pounding into her, even those start shaking about helplessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, babe—”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” You take advantage of her raised arms and wrap your arms around to grab a handful of those voluptuous boobs she was so carelessly showing off at the walkway to the airport—because, as an idol-CEO, fans still congregate to take pictures of her airport outfits, for some reason—and start palming them. Taeyeon lets out a sigh, arching her back and pushing her tits further into your hand. “You want a break from everything and just want to be coddled and pampered, right?”

Taeyeon nods, and although you can’t see it, you can feel how her head bobs up and down against your cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take great care of you.”

“Ooh…”

Her voice hitches when you give her nipples a light pinch, but just as quickly as the stimulus surges through her body, so too does it dissipate. Your motions slow down to a sensual grind, and you can start to feel Taeyeon’s impatience building.

This is her doing. She chose to submit herself to you, and she should know how much you like building up the tension. As much as her display of ultimate submission makes you want to pound her into next Tuesday, you know this will yield a better result, for both you and Taeyeon.

“…baby…”

You plant kisses on her crown, then move to her cheek. She tilts that side of her head to you, giving you better access to her ears, which you take advantage of by nipping slightly. Every time your lips touch her face, Taeyeon seems to be holding in her breath a little bit more, and every time your fingers come dangerously close to her nipples, you can feel a sigh waiting to be released, desperately wanting to be released, but being held in at the last possible moment.

“Your boobs look so good in that outfit.”

“You told me this morning, honey.”

“So you can’t blame me for wanting to play with them a little bit more right now.”

“You can play with them while you’re fucking me harder, ri—” you interrupt her by planting a kiss right next to her lips, but not on them.

“You put me in charge, right?” Taeyeon nods. “Then, relax. Don’t think. Let me do everything for you, baby.”

Taeyeon follows your commands to a tee, sinking and sinking into your slow movements, practiced motions that you’ve taken years to perfect. Every square centimeter of Taeyeon’s body, you know, and you use that knowledge to tease out every last ounce of desire and wanting from her small, skinny, but somehow curvaceous frame.

“Ooh … my god…”

Your left hand leaves her boobs and travels south, and all it takes is one careful swipe of your finger along her entrance to reassure you how absolutely aroused Taeyeon has become.

“Hmm…”

“Open up.”

Taeyeon obeys, and you stick the finger slick with her juices inside her mouth. Instantly, her velvety lips close around the digit and her tongue goes to work, swirling around the finger and licking it clean. It’s not the first time you’ve done this to her, and it’s also not the first time you’ve wondered what letting loose a load between those pretty lips of hers would be like. To this day, all these years you’ve been together, all the various ways you two have fucked, and Taeyeon has still yet refused to let you cum anywhere but inside her. Not that you particularly mind, but every now and then, your mind starts to wander—what would she look like after a nice facial? How sexy would it be to see those slim cheeks puffing from an overabundance of your cum, with trickles of it escaping the corners of her mouth that she captures with her finger and feeds back into her mouth? What would these delectable tits, that have been the object of your fascination since Taeyeon put her airport outfit on this morning, look like with your cum smeared all over them? Or what about the juicy ass that she’s currently grinding against your crotch?

“You’re so unbelievably fucking beautiful, and so irresistibly sexy, Taeyeon.”

Taeyeon only responds with a sigh. You can hear the impatience in it—and, frankly, you’re nearly at your limit, too. You can start to feel her juices start to trickle down onto your legs and it’s this that becomes the last straw. The next sound Taeyeon makes is a loud yelp, in response to your fingers suddenly squeezing both nipples at the same time. “Ffuck!”

You start pounding into her, using the grip your hands have on her boobs as leverage to push her back and forth in your lap. Eventually, as you build up momentum, Taeyeon starts raising and falling, each time she lands back in your lap creating a nice, satisfying smack! sound that gets quickly drowned out by the airplane’s engines. Coincidentally, some faint rattling sound cuts through the air that you’ve come to realize is turbulence, something that the stabilizers attached to the room have prevented you from ever feeling. Unfortunately, you can’t make use of the bouncing of the airplane, but Taeyeon is light enough that you don’t need much help anyway.

“God, yes! Baby, please, more!”

You’re letting your hands follow the wild bouncing motion of her boobs as you bounce her on your lap, giving them the occasional squeeze as it does so. It always marvels you, how someone so small and so skinny can have such proportionally big boobs. She usually dresses a bit more conservatively in public, which is what made her choice of outfit this day so mouth-watering—Taeyeon rarely gives hints of her cleavage to the public, so when she reveals this much? You can only assume she was trying to seduce you, and it worked beautifully; before you even boarded the plane, you were having trouble trying to hide your boner. And now that it’s buried deep inside her, and now that her boobs are filling up your hands, especially since she’s given you full reign to do whatever you want to her, you intend to act on your horniness to its fullest extent.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll give you more.”

Among the many beautiful things about Taeyeon is her natural speaking voice, and that doubled for the voice with which she moaned her pleasure with. It only ever invigorates you more, to hear her moaning so animatedly, and your intensifying actions cause those moans to come out more frequently and with more frequency. It’s a self-feeding loop, a loop that only ends one way.

“Oh my gosh, babe, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum so hard—”

Your climax follows shortly after hers, and as you slump back into the backrest of the seat and Taeyeon rests her head against your chest, the salacious mixture trickles out of Taeyeon’s battered hole and onto the cushiony seat you’re seated upon. Your dick is still wedged inside aforementioned hole, and while you can feel some fatigue settling in, your dick’s efforts to soften is met with the fierce resistance of Taeyeon’s tight snatch, ever the hard worker.

“Baby…”

“Sorry, honey, just give me a minute…”

“…there’s a setting. On the right, there should be a button. On the armrest.”

When you first saw the button, you assumed it was to lean the seat back like any normal airplane economy-class seat, but now that you think about it, you realize how dumb that assumption was. There’s barely any space for this seat to lean back, and this seat is clearly not ‘like any normal airplane economy-class seat’.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Press it.”

“Hm, ok—oh, what the—” the seat starts bouncing, causing your dick to push a little bit deeper inside her. Taeyeon lets out a soft moan.

“Mmm, I’m so glad that works.”

“Taeyeon, what—”

“Do you mind?”

You can’t help but think of the meme that you aren’t sure is exactly a meme, ‘soaking��, the Mormon work around for couples to have sex without going through the physical motions of it. If it is indeed a thing, you wonder how much this kind of a chair would be worth to them.

“Does it feel good for you?”

Taeyeon nods. “Yes. God, yes, I love that feeling, of your cock fucking our creampie back inside me.”

If you weren’t being hit with your refractory period, Taeyeon saying such a filthy sentence would’ve caused you to instantaneously jump her—now, all you could do is let out a groan and put your hands back on her boobs.

“Fuck…”

“Do you like it?”

“I … I’m still, I still can’t, but fuck, I love the feeling of your boobs in my hands.”

The bouncing of the chair is rather slow—Taeyeon makes a comment about how she needs to tell them to modify it to have varying speeds, and then you briefly think about the poor engineers who have worked on this plane and have installed all sorts of various, weird things in it, with a probably pretty good idea for its use case but having to go along with it anyway—but the two of you stay like this while you recover. The chair pushes you in and out of Taeyeon while your hands continue to knead and squeeze the addictively soft and plush texture of her tits, and as your refractory period fades, you start adding to the chair’s efforts. You eventually transition to a standing position, with Taeyeon now facing the seat, her wrists again trapped by the wrist clamps, and you standing behind her.

“Fuck, yes, please, more!”

No longer having to fight gravity, the sound of her ass smacking against your drenched groin nearly overpowers the roar of the airplane’s engines. “Fuck, Taeyeon, I’m so close…”

“Give it to me, give it to me! Fill me up to the brim, baby!”

You let out a final, warning grunt before exploding, your second load bursting inside her—a notably lesser load, but one that still sends Taeyeon into a moaning, squirming frenzy. By the time your orgasm subsides and you pull out of her, it’s like a dam burst; Taeyeon’s poor cunt barely had a few minutes in the last hour or so not being stretched open by your cock, and the rough shape of it can still be seen by how widely her labia is still parted. Out that hole, the combined cum of two orgasms, from both herself and from you, are gushing out, following the curve of her ass and down her leg. Somehow, Taeyeon doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest and throws herself onto the bed.

“What do you want to watch, baby?”

How Taeyeon can switch from sexy seductress to adorable girlfriend is beyond you. All you can do is smile and join her in bed. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look.”

Slowly, you started to notice a reduction in your workload, but it somehow didn’t come with less time with Taeyeon. In fact, Taeyeon’s workload seemed to decrease along with yours, and when you asked her about this, she confirmed your suspicions: she’s slowly offloading her duties and responsibilities to others so that she can focus on the baby that you finally managed to impregnate her with.

The dream didn’t last long though; a few false positives from the past has taught you two to be cautious about your excitement, but when the two-week mark passed and everything seemed to be going well, you could feel Taeyeon’s excitement building and building, and you couldn’t help but get infected with that same excitement. So, when news came a month later that the fetus suddenly, inexplicably died in the womb, Taeyeon was beyond devastated. It took Taeyeon a full three days to get back to work, which, for such a hard worker as her, was a long break. Between taking over some of her basic day-to-day duties in that down time and comforting her, your own hands were quite full those three days, but honestly, you’re thankful to finally be able to give back to Taeyeon.

Over the next few weeks, Taeyeon slowly got back on her feet, and after the third month passed, it was almost like nothing happened. You’re sure you helped, but the timing couldn’t be any more immaculate: or, perhaps, you could say that the news came at a terrible time. Taeyeon had been preparing to step down as CEO for a while, and move to a chairwoman position in her company, but there was one last thing she couldn’t offload any work with: a merger with a smaller company, but still one that ate through a lot of her time and effort. In the final stretches of the process, after a stretch of one week without being able to come home, you decide to make a surprise visit to her office, to which she welcomes you with open arms. Open arms, or rather, parted lips.

“Yes, fuck, I needed this so bad~”

Taeyeon’s hands are gripping the edges of her desk, holding on for dear life as you plow into her from behind. Your clothes are strewn haphazardly about the room, the door firmly locked and, without the threat of interruption, you feel free to use 100% of your efforts into alleviating all the pent-up stress the merger has caused Taeyeon.

The view from the front, of seeing her face twisting with pleasure as you slam into her; the view from the side, seeing her ample tits jiggling wildly with the force of your thrusts; the view from the back, the one you’re currently enjoying, watching her juicy romp rebounding with every pistoning motion—there isn’t a single view of Taeyeon that isn’t immaculate.

“I missed you too.”

Taeyeon can barely hold it together, her entire body shaking in response to your vigorous movements, her legs only able to stay upright thanks to the support your own legs are giving them. The whirring of the air conditioning mixes in with the wet clapping of her ass against your crotch, and the cool air only serving to further stimulate the CEO, devoid of all clothing, being plowed from behind at her own desk.

“I-I, I love you so much, so much, baby.”

Taeyeon gave you only a minute after you arrived before jumping you. Honestly, this wasn’t your plan in the slightest, but who are you to complain? When such a bombshell beauty is so horny for you that she physically cannot contain it, especially if that bombshell beauty happens to be your girlfriend of just about five years.

“I love you too, mommy.”

Although you’re fucking her from behind, it was clear from the moment she crashed her lips onto yours that she is the one in charge. And, of course, you don’t mind. You also don’t mind how readily she slipped into the roleplay, her first words to you after the kiss being, “Mommy needs her baby’s cock, now.”

When she’s submissive, you find yourself wanting to thoroughly fuck her and ruin her in every way imaginable; but when she’s assertive, you find yourself instantly kneeling in obedience, worshipping the ground she walks on. Which leads you to this moment, where her pleas of, “faster!” and “more!” and “harder!” are instantly met with obedience. It isn’t long before Taeyeon isn’t able to maintain her grip of the desk any longer, so you take her arms and use them as handlebars to fuck her harder.

“God, mommy’s cumming, mommy’s cumming!”

The office fills with the beautiful, ecstatic sounds of Taeyeon’s climatic screaming moans, and not shortly after, it’s joined by the sounds of your own moans as you imbed stream after stream of your seed straight into her womb.

“Oh … my god…”

“Do you feel better now?”

Taeyeon nods, but when she turns around, it’s clear that this isn’t over yet. “You know what would make mommy feel better?” You shake your head. “First, in the second drawer from the top, there’s a false bottom that you can bypass by pushing on the side.” You nod, and sure enough, the false bottom gives way. “You see that plug?” Again, you nod, and take it out. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this, nor even the first time you’ve done this in her office really, but what follows after she inserts it inside herself is a first. “You know what else I’ve been thinking about recently?”

“Hm? What?”

At this point, Taeyeon has directed you sit down in her chair. You obeyed, confused, and now that she’s pushing you away from the desk and kneeling between your legs, you can start to see why. “Mommy.”

“Sorry. What have you been thinking about, mommy?”

Satisfied, Taeyeon smiles. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but it’s only this past week that I could get it out of my mind.” You’re still recovering, but Taeyeon is certainly making the recovery process easier. “That warm, thick, creamy cum that you always fill me with, that’s inside me right now … I want to taste it.”

At this point in your relationship, you figure nothing about Taeyeon can really surprise you. You’ve even talked about some of the deeper aspects of your relationship, such as why Taeyeon doesn’t want to get married yet: her parents only stayed together because they had her, and eventually, their relationship healed to the point where they, now, are perfectly happy in their retirement. It’s this experience that molded Taeyeon’s opinion of relationships: if she were to have a romantic partner, she wanted to only have one, and to ensure that, she wanted to have a child with that partner before getting marriage, as a sort of insurance.

It’s why Taeyeon seemed so eager to bear your child recently, and why she became so utterly devastated when her first pregnancy ended the way it did. Many aspects of Taeyeon, you figure you already know, and every aspect of her, you cherish and love.

But this?

This is not something you expected.

“Are … you sure?”

Taeyeon nods, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Yes! Do you mind?”

“Of—Of course not, mommy!”

You have become so accustomed to releasing every load inside her womb—or at least, going into sex with the idea of that being your target—that even the thought of unloading anywhere else seems foreign. But, of course, over the years, your mind has drifted and fantasized, and you’re for the most part able to quash these fantasies pretty easily. After all, the price of being in a relationship with Taeyeon, and having somewhat frequent sex with her, is just that you’re only allowed to cum inside one of her holes? It’s a trivially easy price to pay.

“Oh, thank you, baby!”

That thought, of being able to unleash your first load deep inside her throat, combined with the kisses Taeyeon peppers all about your length, shortens your refractory period down to just about ten minutes. That feeling, of her soft, succulent lips pressing against your member, the audible smacking sound of the kiss as she presses her lips against it, the careful way in which she almost caresses your cock with her lips and her tongue sends you straight to cloud nine, and when she swallows your glans, you’re rocketed straight into outer space.

“Ffuck, mommy…”

It isn’t often that Taeyeon gives you blowjobs, but she’s done it enough that she can take your entire length in one go. She wastes no time, deepthroating you with all the enthusiasm the excited gleam in her eyes showed you, and all you can do is grip the armrests of the chair and buck your hips to the rhythm of her lips.

“Fuck, oh my god, please, mommy, it feels so fucking amazing…”

The feeling of her lips gliding up and down your shaft, her tongue caressing and massaging every square inch of your dick, all the while suffocating it with the sheer tightness of her throat quickly overwhelms your senses. This blowjob—this deepthroating is unlike any Taeyeon has ever given you: she’s more intense, she spends less time coming up for air, spitting on your cock, and rubbing it along your length with her hands, and without needing to care about your orgasm, she completely loses herself in it.

More and more intense, faster, harder, you’re losing your goddamn mind, Taeyeon slobbering all over your dick, the excess drool dripping down her chin and all over your thighs, but she somehow looks ten times sexier like that. Her normally slim face and sleek jawline are now noticeably bulging from your girth, her plump lips stretched wide across its circumference, her head bobbing up and down and her hair flying all over the place, chasing after the wild motions of the head it’s attached to.

“Fuck, mommy, please, I’m so close…”

Hearing this, Taeyeon’s eyes, which were previously glued to your lap, dart upwards, and she adjusts her position so that she can look you in the eye, full-on. You’re unable to tear your eyes away, every bobbing motion of her head and every suction that hollows her cheeks pushing you further and higher until—

“Mommy, I’m cumming!”

Taeyeon doesn’t break eye contact the entire length of your climax; it’s your second load of the session, so it’s not so much that she can’t handle it, but her cheeks still noticeably bulge as her mouth fills with your semen.

Carefully, making sure she doesn’t spill a single drop, Taeyeon’s lips come back up your length. In that moment, you, for a second marvel at the fact that your seed is now occupying two of Taeyeon’s holes, but that fact remains short lived as, shortly after, Taeyeon’s throat flexes and your fluids disappear down her gullet.

“Mmm…”

“So, how was it?”

“I think I like it.”

The two of you didn’t have much time to talk afterwards as she had a meeting to prepare for. Being someone who essentially knew everything Taeyeon did about the company, you figured you would sit in on the meeting in case she needed help with anything, but ended up being distracted with the thought that Taeyeon had yet to take the plug out yet, and was talking to her stockholders, present and future, with your cum still sloshing about inside her.

After the merger successfully resolved, Taeyeon stepped down as CEO and transitioned into a chairwoman position, as promised; and, with the increased amount of time on their hands, and with the memory of that fiasco in her office fresh in her mind, Taeyeon began proposing you to cum elsewhere quite frequently: a few more times in her mouth, but also on her ass, on her tits, smearing that tight little tummy of hers, splattering across her legs, and after a fair bit of experimentation, inside her ass.

The most memorable moment, by far, was—

“How do I look?”

Taeyeon insisted your first load be across her chest; needless to say, Taeyeon’s boobs are as sexy as she is beautiful, so to see them smeared with your cum amplifies that tenfold.

“So unbelievably fucking sexy.”

“I feel sexy too, so I was hoping…” Taeyeon reaches into the nightstand next to the bed and procures a bottle of pills. “…that you would help me feel even sexier.”

The pills turned out to be a performance enhancer mixed in something that helps increase ejaculation density. That night, the two of you went through all sorts of sex positions, every load being sprayed across a different part of her body: her stomach area followed a mixture of missionary and cowboy, then her face after a blowjob, then her back following doggy and her legs following prone-bone. Even with the drugs, you had to take considerable breaks in between sessions, especially at the tail-end; the end product was Taeyeon caked in a fine layer of your cum, smeared across just about every square inch of her body. When the two of you fell asleep, it was well past 5am, and the following morning—rather, the following afternoon, being the time the two of you awoke—you enjoyed a nice shower together.

That wasn’t to say you stopped entirely in your baby making attempts. Far from it: now that Taeyeon’s workload decreased so severely, the two of you had much more time to fuck—there even was a stretch of two weeks where you had sex every day, only paused by your need to rest and recover from all of the intense activity. None of it seemed to affect anything though: weekly pregnancy tests, all resulting in negatives or false positives; you can feel Taeyeon start to get impatient, not with her failure to get pregnant, but holding off marriage for so long.

By now, over half a decade together, you can’t imagine life with another person. If, God forbid, the two of you ever broke up, you figure you would just stay single for the rest of your life; after all, how could you settle for any other woman after Taeyeon? It was clear that Taeyeon was hoping to get married around the time she stepped down as CEO, but now that a year passed since that day, Taeyeon began to talk to you, in more earnest, about getting married first.

So, about 7 years from the day you two solidified your relationship, you got married. It was a very small and private affair, consisting only of the immediate families of both parties, seven of Taeyeon’s closest friends, and the handful of friends that had never judged your relationship with Taeyeon after learning about it.

The sex following the wedding night was easily the most rambunctious the two of you have ever been, lasting well until the sun rose the next day, and during the honeymoon was … a different kind of intense.

“Mmm, that smells so good, honey.”

Taeyeon lets out a soft gasp upon feeling your erection pressing against her bare ass. “I had Andre teach me.”

It was a quaint, quiet, isolated destination, your and Taeyeon’s choice of honeymoon. The house was packed with enough food to feed a family of four for two weeks, probably, enough wine for a battalion for one night’s celebration—the backup generators had backup generators, and there were at least five failsafe methods of communication in the worst case scenarios. The fact that you two don’t require a single other person to live luxuriously in the sizable estate, and the fact that other people are forbidden to enter even the premises of the estate, serve the singular purpose of allowing both you and Taeyeon to follow one rather simple rule: no means of covering one’s body is allowed except for an apron while cooking, gloves or other protective gear when handling hot surfaces or otherwise dangerous objects, or clothes if you’re, for whatever reason, expecting company.

Which explains this scenario, in which you are teasing at her hole as Taeyeon tries to focus on making brunch for the two of you.

“Baby, please…”

“You should focus on the food, babe.”

“I can’t … I can’t focus, your dick is driving me crazy…”

“Then all the more reason why I shouldn’t put it in, right? Because then, you’ll be even more likely to burn the food.”

“Just … babe, please, I need it so bad, just—”

“Are you gonna burn the food if I listen to you?”

“No! Please, I promise, please��”

You don’t need to hear much more, and when you shove yourself inside her, Taeyeon lets out a loud yelp. “Hmm, fuck, so hot and so tight, baby…”

“Fuck, oh my god, after all these years, it still feels like you’re stretching me out so much every time…”

Being near a hot stove, you can’t be as relentless as you have been the last few days, but seeing her trying her best to focus on the food she’s cooking while moaning and trying, but failing, to maintaining a steady hand, ending up sprinkling in a bit too much salt.

“Baby!”

“But you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“But you don’t have to—unng, fuck!”

You finish inside her, and shortly after, Taeyeon finishes her cooking—some of it did, in fact, get slightly burned, but otherwise was great.

Taeyeon instigates nearly as much as you, though—like, when you were napping on a lounge chair by the poolside, something only possible to do while naked in the winter because of the tropical climate of the destination, and awake to the feeling of Taeyeon climbing on top of you.

“Taeyeon?”

“I miss you.”

“How long have I been napping here? An hour?”

Taeyeon pouts, and your heart completely melts at the sight. “That’s an hour too long.”

“Aww, poor baby.” You lean forward and plant a kiss on her lips, which instantly turns the pout into a smile. “Is that better?”

“Mmhm. But, I could be even better…”

It turns out, having sex on a lounge chair isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing, especially if you’re being as vigorous as you and Taeyeon are. You end up breaking it, so you finish inside the pool and then go back inside to do some couple’s yoga in one of the estate’s living rooms.

In the two weeks that you two spend there, every room becomes witness to your hot, sweaty activities—in fact, you aren’t even sure if the bedroom is where you and Taeyeon end up fucking the most. For the span of those two weeks, Taeyeon insisted on having every drop of cum being deposited inside her pussy, although you end up cheating a little and cumming a few times in her other two holes, once on her face, and once on her boobs after a mind-blowing blowjob mixed with a titjob.

And, it turns out, getting married is all it takes—either that, or the two weeks of what essentially amounted to nonstop sex—for Taeyeon to get pregnant. After various double and triple checks, her personal doctor is able to confirm it: finally, again, after all these years, Taeyeon is pregnant. You can’t describe why exactly you feel this way, but there’s something about things—how much more solid your relationship with Taeyeon is, the fact that you’re married now, the significantly less stress Taeyeon deals with on a day-to-day basis—that makes you feel confident that it’ll work out this time.

“Have you thought of a name?”

“Hm…”

You laugh. “After all this time?”

“Well, I have though of a name if it’s a girl.”

“Hm? What is it, then?”

“How does ‘Minjeong’ sound?”

[gothcsz]

Hands To Myself | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~4k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You get to know the handsome stranger sitting next to you on your overnight flight to Mexico.

Tags: smut, reader is ovulating, hand job, fingering, dirty talk, lust at first sight again, sexual acts in public (on a plane), let's just pretend this is realistic okay, pwp, blowjob to completion, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: this is all @probablyreadinsmut's fault tbh. coming into my inbox with horny thoughts, knowing i have to do something about it 😩 hehe i hope you guys like this, it's nothing special... i just need this man in any way i can get him! let me know what you thinkkkkkk🖤

You knew you were fucked the second you saw him at the gate. He isn’t just attractive—he’s ridiculously attractive. The kind of hot that only exists in movies or in passing, like some guy you make eye contact with and never see again. Except this time, he wasn’t just passing through. He was standing right there.

To make matters worse, your hormones are out of control. Peak ovulation. Just being around a man has your skin buzzing, like your body is betraying you on a biological level.

So yeah, you looked. How could you not? He’s tall, has broad shoulders, leaner than what you usually go for but still built in a way that makes your brain short-circuit.

Then the universe really had to mess with you—you are assigned the seat right next to him for the overnight flight.

Your stomach drops. Suddenly, your go-to comfy travel outfit, leggings and a cardigan, feels way too basic.

“I’m at the window seat,” you say, trying to sound normal.

He looks up, meeting your gaze, and smiles—actually smiles. His brown eyes are warm and a little intrigued as he gives you a once over.

“Okay.”

Just that one word and you are already overthinking. How good his voice would sound in your ear as he’s—

No, you won’t make things harder on yourself by having intrusive sexual thoughts about some stranger. No matter how good looking he is.

You shove your carry-on into the overhead bin and awkwardly step aside so he can stand and let you in. His body brushes against yours, and you get a whiff of his cologne, something woodsy, mixed with the unmistakable scent of whiskey from the airport bar.

Okay… so maybe you’d been watching him for longer than just at the gate. But who could blame you? The man is truly a sight to behold. It’s not like you were being a creep about it.

You mutter a soft “thanks” and sink into your seat, trying very hard to act normal while the flight attendants go through their safety spiel, though it’s hard to focus when you can feel his presence right next to you.

You need a distraction—fast. So, in a last-ditch effort to stop acting like a feral idiot, you pluck your book from your backpack and try to read.

It works, kind of. Not really.

“So, what’s waiting for you in Playa del Carmen?”

His voice, low and raspy, cuts through your attempt at reading—not that you’d absorbed a single word, still stuck on the same page since you opened it.

You glance over, and of course, he’s already looking at you. His leather jacket is gone, leaving him in a short sleeved button-down, a few undone buttons teasing the tanned skin of his neck, his thick biceps straining against the fabric.

You take too long to answer because he tilts his head slightly, lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk. “Sorry—abrupt fuckin’ question.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You stumble over your words, mentally cringing at yourself. His brows raise slightly, amused, and you don’t miss the way his mustache tics when he presses his lips together. 

“A friend’s birthday trip. I got caught up at work, so I had to take a later flight at the last minute. What about you?”

He hums, the sound deep and thoughtful. “Work.” That’s all he offers. “Not as fun as what you’ll be getting up to, I’m sure.”

You bite your lip, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your book. “I’ve heard the beaches are beautiful. I’m excited to just lounge and take in the sun. It’s been so long since I’ve gone on a proper vacation.”

Your tongue is loose despite the way you’re vibrating under the weight of his attention.

“I know that feeling. Don’t even think my body knows what a vacation is…” He trails off, leaning back in his seat, thighs spreading in that way men do, which you usually find annoying but something about the way he does it has your pussy clenching, and you try no to let your eyes drop down to his crotch.

“How’s the book?”

You blink slowly, returning your attention to the paperback in your hand. “Got a slow start but so far it’s been alright.”

“I bet. You’ve been stuck on the same page since we took off. Must be the most riveting paragraph ever written.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and if it were anybody else, you’d be weirded out by their observation. Being hot does have its privileges. “Maybe I just like rereading. Really taking in the point the author is trying to make.”

“Uh-huh, right…” He chuckles softly and that sound triggers the desire that seeps into every pore of your skin.

The conversation continues flowing thereafter, which you definitely did not expect. His name is Javier, and he’s constantly traveling for work—though he’s vague on the details, and you’re not about to grill a stranger for his life story.

Instead, the topics meander, easy and flirtatious, both of you toeing the line between casual and something else.

You swear he’s flirting. He leans in slightly when you speak, holds your eyes captive just a beat too long, like he’s in no rush to look away.

You’re noticing everything the deeper you get into this… thing. The way lips form around each word, full and obnoxiously kissable. The way his brown eyes glint when he talks about things that should be trivial but feel interesting because he’s the one saying them. How the tendons in his forearms flex whenever he gestures, his fingers long and strong, the kind of hands that could make a woman very happy.

Your horny brain is spiraling.

“A mango marg is my go to. Preferably one of those ridiculously oversized ones with sugar on the rim.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You arch a brow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He scratches his jaw, flicking his tongue over his teeth. You admire how chiseled his jaw is. “Means you like to have fun. You probably get away with a lot.”

“And you think I get away with things?”

His eyes flick down to your lips, just for a second. “I think you could, if you wanted to.”

You cross your legs, shifting in your seat like that’s going to help anything. It just makes it worse. Focus. He’s just a hot stranger. A hot stranger that smells like whiskey and cedarwood and keeps throwing you these amused little glances like he knows what the fuck he’s doing to you.

You should probably end this before you embarrass yourself. But instead, you just keep talking, keep flirting, and keep waiting to see just how far this can go.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Javier’s voice snaps you back to reality, and you blink, heat settling on your cheeks as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“Sorry, what?”

His lips curve slightly like he’s fighting a grin, but his eyes give him away. “You keep staring at my mouth…” He trails off, but there’s something in the way he says it. As if he’s caught you red-handed and is enjoying watching you squirm.

Your stomach clenches. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Fuck.

Panic surges through you, and suddenly, the cabin feels way too small, the air too thick. “No, uh—there’s nothing there. I just… I zone out sometimes.” You clear your throat, fingers fumbling with your seatbelt. “Would you mind letting me get to the restroom?”

You sound as pathetic as you feel, but Javier doesn’t let up. His smirk stays put, eyes flicking over your face like he’s contemplating something.

Still, he nods. “Sure.”

He stands, stepping aside, and as you squeeze past him, his hand just barely grazes your lower back. Light enough to be innocent, intentional enough to send a full-body shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, pretending not to notice—pretending not to feel the slick heat between your legs pulse at the contact—and walk as casually as possible down the aisle.

The moment you lock the restroom door behind you, you press your palms against the tiny counter, breathing hard.

Your reflection stares back at you, pupils blown, lips parted like you just stumbled out of a damn makeout session. 

You’re hot. Turned on from nothing but a little eye contact and some shameless flirting. And the worst part? It’s not going away anytime soon. Especially since you’re sitting so fucking close to him. Your body is wound tight, aching at the worst possible time.

Your panties are soaked, borderline ruined, pussy crying to get some relief, and you actually consider slipping a hand down there and rubbing one out. But you know yourself. Getting off with your fingers is a slow, frustrating process, and the last thing you need is to be locked in an airplane restroom, chasing an orgasm while Javier is sitting just outside, existing like that.

So you suck it up. Splash some cool water on your face. Take a deep breath. Get it together.

When you step back into the aisle, he’s already standing, leaning casually against the row of seats as if his demeanor and charm aren’t totally putting you under his spell. He looks even better now than he did before you left.

You give him a tight-lipped, awkward smile as you slide back into your seat. He follows, sinking into his own with a quiet grunt, the sound low and rough enough to send another spark of pleasure straight to your cunt.

“Everything good?” He asks smoothly, but there’s an undercurrent of playfulness to it, like he already knows the answer.

You force your legs to stay still, clenching your thighs subtly as you nod.

“Mhm.”

He hums. “You don’t have to lie, you know.”

Your eyes snap up to his, heartbeat hammering. “What?”

“I know when a woman’s turned on. And you haven’t exactly been subtle about it.”

Your stomach drops, your whole body flooding with embarrassment. “That’s ridiculous—”

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He shrugs. “Been thinkin’ about how good your ass looks in those leggings since I saw you back at the airport.”

Oh, you’re so fucked.

Your breath stutters, fingers gripping the armrest as if that’ll do anything to ground you. Maybe this is a dream, it has to be. No way he’s reciprocating the horny vibes you’ve been exuding because of your damn ovulation cycle. 

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips, shaky, uncertain.

His expression doesn’t change—still cool, still lazy, but there’s a darkness to it now. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything…” His knuckles graze your thigh, featherlight, making you shiver before he pulls away. “But I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I’m not attracted to you.”

You lick your lips, watching the way he follows the movement, how his hand balls into a fist against his leg. The cabin is dim now, most passengers lost in their own worlds or asleep, and the seats around you are conveniently unoccupied. The flight attendants have finished their last walkthrough, leaving you tucked away in a private little pocket of space.

Your pulse thrums, a decision forming in the haze of arousal clouding your mind. “What if…” You hesitate, but then let the thought take control, logic be damned. “What if I wanted to do something?”

Javier’s brows lift slightly, intrigue flashing across his face. The shift is instant—his relaxed posture stiffens, his jaw ticks, and his eyes dip just slightly as if assessing exactly how far you’re willing to go.

You’re barely breathing as he lifts the armrest between you, his body pressing in tight, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You almost pass out.

“Yeah?” His voice is nothing but a whisper, matching the lust that’s thrumming in your veins. “Like what?”

The warmth of his breath has you letting out a soft, involuntary whimper.

“Anything,” you murmur, fidgeting with your fingers, the need unbearable. “I just need you to touch me.”

Javi exhales a low, quiet laugh through his nose, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. His lips ghost along the side of your jaw, teasing, taunting.

“I can do that.” His fingers then trail up your thigh agonizingly slow, stopping just at the hem of your leggings. “Just need you to keep quiet.”

You nod weakly, head tipping back against the seat as his mouth finds your neck. He starts slow, pressing soft kisses along the sensitive skin before sucking lightly, dragging his teeth over your pulse. You resist the urge to squirm as his large palm moves up your body, fingertips teasing along the curve of your breast over your top.

Your nipples tighten instantly, and when he pinches one between his fingers, both of you let out a quiet groan.

“So sensitive. You need more?”

You bite your lip, nodding desperately again. “Yes.”

His hand slips beneath your shirt and finally—rough fingertips meet your bare skin. He palms your breast, kneading, tugging at your nipple, sending sharp little sparks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You shift, desperately trying to find any friction. Your horniness is maddening and he knows it.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, tongue flicking out to taste your skin. “So worked up already. Bet you’re soaked.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you whimper, hips rolling ever so slightly.

Javier groans at the movement, shifting even closer, his thigh pressing against yours as he works your tits over with a practiced hand.

His lips move up to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, eyes locking with his for a brief moment before you both give in—lips crashing together, mouths desperate and hungry.

He can kiss.

His tongue slides against yours, tasting and exploring. The fingers at your breast keep working, rolling your nipple between his fingers, twisting just enough to make you gasp against his lips.

“Javi…” His name is exhaled breathlessly. “More. Please.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Yeah?” Leaving your tits, he moves down between your legs and you spread your thighs, giving him enough room to begin rubbing you over your leggings.

You let out a sharp gasp, back arching slightly. The pressure has you melting, chasing the touch you so desperately need.

Javier watches you, drinking in the slight furrow of your brow, how your lips purse. “Goddamn.” He can’t help but nip at your lower lip, gripping your thigh with his other hand as he grinds a little harder against your pussy. “You soaked right through these.”

Your fingers dig into his forearm, the teasing unbearable.

“You’re so—” You shudder, exhaling shakily and he’s living for it. “You’re so fucking hot, I couldn’t help it.”

“I could probably make you come just like this, huh? Needy little thing needs her pussy played with so bad, she’s whoring herself out on a fuckin’ plane just to get an orgasm.”

Your jaw hangs open at his filthy words.

Javier is clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. His fingers keep moving, slow and firm, while your hand drifts down, pressing against the hardness straining beneath his jeans. Even through the thick denim, he’s big, and when you squeeze just slightly, his hips jerk into your palm.

He groans into the kiss you’re sharing, enjoying your touch. “This is risky, you sure?”

You nod, struggling to think through the fog of lust clouding your mind. “I don’t care.”

That’s all it takes.

He pulls back, just enough for both of you to move quickly. You shrug off your cardigan, tucking it beneath you before slipping your leggings and panties down to your mid thigh. You’re not about to put your bare ass on this plane seat.

He unbuckles his belt, freeing himself from his jeans, and holy shit.

Your mouth goes dry. He’s thick, a swollen, flushed cock with a prominent vein running down the side, curving just enough to make your walls flutter at the thought of him fucking your cunt.

Javi catches your lingering gaze and smirks. “You just gonna look, or—?”

You drag your tongue across your palm before wrapping it around his leaking cock, your touch making him shudder. Slowly, you stroke him, spreading the precum with your thumb, gliding it over the sensitive head before giving a firm squeeze, earning a growl from deep in his chest.

His fingers slip between your thighs, spreading your pussy lips open, and he wastes no time in teasing your sensitive labia, dragging his touch up and down attentively.

You moan quietly as to not get yourself caught. He groans at the feeling of you, slick and hot, his digits smearing your arousal all over your pretty pussy before pressing against your swollen clit.

“If we weren’t on this goddamn plane I’d fuck the shit out of you.”

You can’t hold back your soft whine, your head tilting back, wrist still moving, his own fingers working magic between your thighs.

“How? Please Javi tell me how you’d fuck me.”

He buries his head into your neck, licking, biting, sucking at your skin, his thick fingers now breaching the mouth of your cunt.

It’s pure bliss—the stretch so much deeper, fuller than your own fingers ever manage. His thick digits work you open, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you. The way he drags against your inner walls has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but it’s the relentless pressure on your fleshy pearl that wrecks you, erasing every thought but him.

“I’d have you spread out, my head buried between your legs, fucking you with my tongue until you’re wet enough to take this big cock.” His hips grind into your jerking palm to emphasize his point.

You can only imagine how his wet tongue would feel up against your flesh, tasting every crevice, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you.

“Probably start over you, wanna see that pretty face while I slide inside this tight pussy baby, fuck,” he groans, fingers now knuckles deep inside your cunt and you moan, slipping into this fantasy with him, imagining how good it’d feel to have his dick stretching you out.

“Not really a missionary girl but I know you’d make me feel good, Javi.”

His thumb is slick with your sticky wetness, allowing him to swirl your clit around, massaging it and making your pussy drool even more. Your nipples are hardened and oversensitive, adding to the bliss when they brush against the fabric of your shirt with every deep inhale and exhale you take. 

Javi’s fingers begin to thrust into you more earnestly, the soft squelch of your pussy getting finger fucked thankfully drowned out by the hum of the plane. “How would you want it then? Tell me how you’d take it.”

Another bead of precum dollops from his slit and your mouth waters, picking up the pace to match the stroking of his fingers inside you.

“On top. I’d bounce on your cock until you’re filling me up. Put my tits in your face, make you suck on them.”

A thin sheen of sweat clings to your temples, the heat of his kisses still lingering on your neck making your temperature spike like a fever you don’t want to break.

Javier gets desperate, leaning in to put his lips on yours, imagining the way your pussy would feel while you rode him. You clench around his fingers, your orgasm on the brink of making a mess all over his hand.

“You’d let me come inside you?” His voice is a husky murmur, almost taunting, laden with lust as he cups your jaw with his other hand before sliding lower, wrapping firmly around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding, keeping you in place as he curls his fingers, brazen eyes boring into yours.

Your breath stutters as ecstacy coils impossibly tight. “Mhm,” you nod weakly, tears welling in your eyes from how good it all feels.

A wicked smirk spreads across his lips, his grip keeping you steady as he drags you closer. “Naughty girl,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ love that.”

His lips crash against yours again, swallowing your cries as his fingers work you harder, scissoring inside you, his fat thumb flicking your clit rapidly. 

It sends you tumbling over the edge, your entire body clenches, muscles locking as waves of pleasure ripple through you, your release coating his fingers while you moan into his mouth, trying to keep quiet, trying not to let the whole damn plane know what he’s doing to you.

Your grip on his cock tightens but you lose your rhythm as he lets you ride out your orgasm, whispering praises against your lips, not seeming bothered by the lack of attention at his shaft.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, blinking away the stars clouding your vision while he pulls his fingers out, a sticky web following.

Javier lifts his fingers between you, still slick with your release, dark eyes flicking to yours as he takes in the scent of your pussy before he’s licking at them, using the hold he still has on your neck to bring you in so you’re both making out with his wet fingers between the two of you, your tongue moving sinfully, getting lost in the act.

You break away when his fingers are licked clean, attempting to catch your breath. After regaining some control, you continue to work his cock, urging him to slide into the unoccupied third seat by the aisle so you have room to take him in your mouth.

Javi blinks, caught off guard, dick twitching in your grasp as he registers what you’re suggesting.

“You sure?” His hands flex like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Yes. Don’t want to make a mess, right? Just make sure no one’s looking.” You purr, pulling your legging and underwear back up before shifting your body and bending over to lick at his tip, circling around his head before you’re taking as much as you can into your mouth.

The positioning is a little cramped and awkward, but you don’t care. He tastes so good, feels even better on your tongue. The blood is roaring in your ears, you can’t even hear any of the quieted noises you’re pulling from him but you do feel his hand landing on the back of your neck and he pushes you further down, forcing you to take almost the entirety of his cock down your throat.

You fondle his balls, sucking in your cheeks and bobbing up and down quickly. His stomach tightens and before you know it, ropes of warm and salty cum are filling your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin. You moan around him, slurping him up before pulling away with a soft pop, wiping at the corners of your mouth where the fluids had smeared.

He looks just as wrecked as you had when you came, his cheeks a little pink, eyes dilated, breathing heavily. He exhales a quiet, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair before tucking himself back into his pants, watching you with something dangerously close to admiration.

You lean in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to his lips, returning the favor and letting him taste the last traces of himself.

“Where are you staying? This can’t be the last time I see you.”

You tell him the name of the resort, watching as that familiar cocky smirk creeps back onto his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, mind already made up. “Can’t let you walk away after that. Pussy’s too good. Hope your friends don’t mind me stealing you for a night or two.”

He caresses your cheek and you melt into him, resting your chin on his shoulder, staring up at him with starry eyes. You already know you’re going to get the lecturing of your life once you disclose what just transpired to your homegirls.

“They will. Maybe I should extend my stay just a little longer…” Your fingers fidget with the buttons on his shirt.

“I’ll pay for it. Anything to see you again.”

Oh god, is this irresponsible of you? Probably. But you’re not thinking with your brain right now, no, you’re straight up thinking with your pussy.

“Deal.”

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7. @mandaloriankait . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @clubsoft . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @biapascal . @angiewatson .

[pomegranatelifethis]

The Forgotten Fox

Growing up in Gotham was already a difficult thing, but growing up in Wayne Manor was on another level. Bruce Wayne's adoption of you seemed like a salvation at first. You had lived alone on the streets for years, surviving by hiding your own strength. Your mother had inherited kitsune blood, but these powers had always felt like a curse. When Bruce saved you and brought you into his family, you thought it would be different.

But you were wrong.

Bruce's distant demeanor, the decisions he made to protect you; It was more like a leader's strategic moves than a father's love. Dick's warmth was always on the surface, but he didn't see you deep down. Jason couldn't even find the time to look back at you as he was drowning under the weight of his own past. While Tim was buried in his studies and didn't notice you, Damian... Damian was always one step ahead. He saw you as a weak, unnecessary being.

They didn't even notice you. Even when your ears and tails emerged, they saw you as a strange anomaly. Kitsune blood felt more like a curse than an inheritance. They thought they were protecting you, but they were actually putting you in a cage. And there was only one way to escape from this cage: to walk away.

One night, while you were sitting quietly as usual, you decided to leave. Without saying anything to them. As your tears wet your pillow, you thought about the life you would leave behind. But did it make any sense? Could there be any pain in leaving a family that doesn't see you anyway?

When you escaped to China, you felt like you could breathe for the first time. You discovered your Kitsune side and developed your powers. You began to come to terms with your mother's legacy. But deep down, there was still a piece of Gotham, still the Wayne family. That little spark of love lost in your anger and grief.

When they found you, some of you were surprised. Did they really call you? However, this happiness was short-lived. When Damian and Tim raided to bring you back, not only they but also the League of Assassins had their sights on you. The potential of their powers attracted them. When they caught you, you thought it was all over. They placed a "dampener" around his neck to suppress his powers. From that moment on, you became a shadow of the kitsune side.

When he returned to Wayne Manor, the emptiness inside him had grown even larger. Your ears and tail were still there, but your powers were completely gone. They put you in a cage… a real cage this time. They took away your freedom, but no one was aware of it.

“We're doing this for your safety,” Bruce had said, his voice as cold and firm as ever. But these words did nothing but hurt you.

Dick was doing his best to cheer you up, but the smile on his face was more forced than ever. Jason would come in between and say, "It's not that bad if you're still breathing," but you both knew how empty those words were. Tim was constantly buried in the computer, looking for a way to disable the dampener. Damian, on the other hand… Damian made you feel weak and insignificant as always.

“You know you're in this situation because you tried to escape, right?” he said one night, standing at the door of the room. There was neither sarcasm nor anger in his eyes. Just a reality. “You must learn to fight even without your powers.”

These words of his were the last straw. You turned to Damian, trying to hold back your tears silently.

“None of you understand,” you said, your voice shaking. “I don't belong here. I never belonged.”

You saw a crack in Damian's face for the first time. But that didn't stop you. You were pouring out everything inside you now.

“You are a family. I'm just a burden. My Kitsune blood, my powers, nothing of mine mattered to you. But now, do you care about me when my power is a threat? I don't want your fake interest anymore!”

Damian said nothing as your words echoed in the room. He turned around silently and left. This broke you even more. Maybe you were right; You never belonged to this family

After Damian left the room, loneliness fell on your room again. You were having trouble breathing. Your heart was so heavy that you felt like a stone was sitting on your chest. They didn't see you as a family. Maybe they never saw it. The reasons they brought you back were for security and control, not love.

Your eyes shifted to the dampener. It felt like a heavy chain around his neck. A piece of his power was still inside him, but this little device had taken everything away from him. The right to be yourself, the freedom…

That night, you didn't sleep. You watched the ceiling for hours, questioning yourself over and over again. Was it any use trying to escape? They would come after you again. They would catch you again and put you back in this cage. How could you break free from this cycle?

You finally made a decision. If you couldn't regain your strength, you should have at least done something to change that situation. You had to fight. This time you were going to show them that they couldn't control you. His eyes were cold as usual, but he looked a little tired.

“There's training today,” he said briefly. “You must learn how to survive without your powers.”

These sarcastic words made you even angrier. The anger inside him boiled as he walked into the training room with her. However, you managed to hide this anger. If you were going to surprise them, this anger should have been your guide. During training, you repeated the fighting moves under Damian's supervision. Without your powers, your speed and reflexes were weakened. Damian was hitting him in the face at every opportunity.

“You are weak,” he said coldly. “You can't even protect yourself in this state.”

You didn't answer him. Instead, you sought out that dark and silent power within you. Your Kitsune side was suppressed, but not completely lost. Damian's voice was heard as he closed his eyes to feel it.

"What are you doing? Focus your attention.”

You suddenly opened your eyes and looked at him. “I'm not trying to prove anything to you, Damian. But you always say I'm weak. What about you?”

Damian's eyebrows furrowed. “What does this mean?”

Your anger was now reflected on your face in an unstoppable way. “You say I'm weak, but do you really know me? Or is this an easy way for your family? Does calling me weak and saying I'm not a real threat make you right?”

Damian took a step back. His face was as hard as ever, but there was hesitation in his eyes. What you said touched him, you could see it. However, at that moment Bruce entered the training room.

“What's going on here?” he asked, his voice heavy and authoritative. Damian immediately tried to gather himself and answer.

“Nothing, just—”

But you cut it off. This time you wouldn't back down. “This is what's happening here, Bruce,” you said. “You see me as a threat, a liability. Not like a family member. If you're going to keep me here, at least accept this. “You bind me here not with love, but with fear.”

Bruce looked at you silently. You looked for emotion in his eyes, but they were expressionless as usual.

“We're doing this for your safety,” he said finally. “I understand how this makes you feel. But this decision is to protect you.”

These words made him lose his patience. “No,” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “This decision is not to protect me, but to reassure you. If you really cared about my safety, you would help me control my power. “You wouldn't see me as a threat.”

Bruce's face hardened. “What you say is emotional, but not realistic. You are safe here.”

Words were useless now. The pain and anger that built up inside you made you act. You didn't want to listen to Bruce, Damian, and the others again. With your eyes filled, you turned your back on them and headed for the door.

“If this is what it's like to be part of a family, I don't want it,” you said as you opened the door. “And if you try to force me to stay here… it'll be war.”

When you left the room, a silence remained behind you. But this time no one tried to stop you. Because they all realized that they had truly lost you.

@zealousgoldcollective

[harmoonix]

SALVATORE

Astrology Observations

Descendant (your 7th house has the same degrees as your ascendant/rising), at 4° 16° 28° degrees craves a more soft love type. They're definitely attracted to more tender people

Descendant at 6° 18° degrees craves a more rational love. They wanna keep it real, and without any illusions or fake people, they're attracted to authentic people

Descendant at 1° 13° 25° degrees craves the dominant lover type, someone who they can rely on or and to be there when they need it. They're attracted to people who show dominant energies

Descendant at 5° 17° 29° degrees craves a type of love without any obstacles, no one can interfere in their love, someone who can give them the moon and the stars

Venus in the 3rd decan (20° - 29° degrees) can definitely experience more relationships later in life, probably more in their adulthood than teenagehood

Venus aspecting the south node, especially if they are in the 7th house, gives me major vibes of a widow in a past life

Venus aspecting Saturn natives crave long and durable relationships rather than hooking up around and having one night stands

Mars aspecting Jupiter in good aspects natives are full of ambition and power to work/going through lots of harsh things

Mentally, Mars in the 3rd, 6th, and 11th houses are good. Here, Mars needs a lot of stimulation of the brain and more focus on the details

Jupiter in Libra natives can get lucky with a relationship and the people they surround themselves with. Their personality is likable

If you have soft moon signs like Pisces, Libra, Taurus, or Virgo, but your moon is aspecting Pluto, it will automatically make it more dark, so you may not relate with the 'soft moon observations'

Venus, in the 1st, 10th, and 12th hosue age so beautifully with the years, definitely going old and pretty too. Beautiful everywhere

Lana del rey's chart will always amaze me. She has Venus in Taurus in the 7th house, and that makes sense to so many of her songs. Bless her. Salvatore and doing time are some of my favorites from her

Jupiter in Aquarius natives can be very popular online/liked on social media. At the point of obsession sometimes/they can have a mass of ppl following them too

Pluto aspecting Moon is so dark on an emotional level, the native with these aspects can be even interested in death themes/afterlife/spiritual connection after death

Asteroid Aphrodite *1388* in harsh aspects to Venus (opposite, conjuction, square) tends to have a hard time learning how to love or how to receive it

Aphrodite 1388 in air signs can possess beautiful voices. You can often get compliments about having a nice voice

Aphrodite 1388 in good aspects to Moon (trine, conjuct, sextile) can be more in tune with their energy/emotional state. These natives can also have a huge feminine energy

Aphrodite 1388 in both harsh and good aspects to Pluto can indicate a powerful energy, striking beauty, more dominant than submissive and dark personality

Moon aspecting Mercury natives are very soft spoken. They usually have a pleasant voice/good at interacting with others. They know how to charm softly

Asteroid Circe (34) aspecting in Pluto can indicate psychic powers, seeing ghosts/entities/shadows, having a curiosity about death or about what happens after death

Circe aspecting Sun can have healing powers, not physically..but they can heal others with their words/energy, these natives can make others feel better quite easily

Jupiter aspecting Moon natives have (in harsh aspects) can have a hard time being optimistic, and the same can happen for those with Saturn - Moon aspects.

Ascendant aspecting Moon or Neptune natives have that kind of face you'll never be able to forget. It can be quite nostalgic/familar

Sun in the 3rd/9th house can get social with everyone in the room as long as they share the same vibe. They're pretty open to everything

Scorpio Risings can have so many intense people in their lives due to Pluto ruling their 1st house and Venus their 7th house with Taurus

Virgo Risings tend to have exes coming back in their lives due to Pisces energy in the 7th house, + if you have Mercury Retrogade in your chart as your 1st house ruler

Pisces Risings tend to meet hardworking partners due to their 7th house in Virgo. They might have good communication in their relationship.

Saturn or Capricorn in the 12th house of karma can sometimes indicate a hard life. It's not taken out of context, but it's very karmic

Uranus aspecting Venus (in harsh aspects) can be quite confusing. Especially on what they want/crave from their love life or partners, indecisive

Lilith aspecting Moon in harsh aspects rely very much on their emotional side. They can be at their lowest and still need some nurturing/care

Have a great weekend,everyone 🖤🖤

Harmoonix 🖤🖤🖤

[nvutellaz]

────୨ৎ────

You were lying on Hamzah’s bed, curled up in his oversized t-shirt and your favorite black shorts, the fabric soft against your skin as you scrolled aimlessly through TikTok. The glow of your phone screen reflected in your eyes, but your focus kept drifting. No matter how many videos you swiped past, none of them could hold your attention—not when the real thing you wanted was just a few feet away.

Hamzah was sitting at his desk, headphones snug over his messy curls, fingers flying over his keyboard as he played Fortnite. His eyes were locked onto the screen, his face set in pure concentration. You watched the way his jaw tensed slightly, the furrow in his brow, the sharp focus in his dark eyes. He always looked so good when he was in the zone. But that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that he hadn’t looked at you all day.

Every so often, he muttered something to his teammates, his deep voice slightly muffled by the mic. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, his posture completely relaxed, like he had all the time in the world.

Meanwhile, you had been lying there for hours.

Waiting.

Sighing, you tossed your phone onto the bed, pushing the covers off as you got up. You padded over to him, slipping behind his chair. Without a word, you leaned down, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders and resting your chin against the curve of his neck. His skin was warm beneath your cheek, and you inhaled his scent—something clean and familiar, like fresh laundry mixed with his cologne.

Hamzah barely reacted, his eyes flicking toward you for a brief second before refocusing on his game.

“What’s up?” he asked casually, reaching up to adjust his headset as he muted his mic.

“I’m bored…” you admitted, though that wasn’t really the whole truth.

He hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t turn away from the screen.

“And,” you continued, voice softer now, “you kinda haven’t paid attention to me all day.”

That finally got a reaction. He tilted his head slightly toward you, but only for a moment.

“Y/N, I’m in the middle of a match,” he said, eyes still locked onto his screen.

You sighed, shifting so that your lips brushed against his ear. “You said that hours ago. Aren’t Fortnite matches supposed to be short?”

“They are,” he said with a small smirk. “But you know I don’t just play one.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling back slightly. “So what, you’re just gonna ignore me all night?”

He finally glanced at you, his lips twitching like he was holding back a grin. “I promise after this match, I’ll give you a surprise.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why not now?”

“Baby…” His voice was low and teasing. “Just wait.”

You groaned, pulling away as you turned on your heel. “Fine.”

Flopping back onto the bed, you grabbed your phone again, scrolling through Twitter this time. But your mind wasn’t on your feed. You couldn’t focus on anything—because no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you were craving his attention more than usual.

Maybe it was the way he looked tonight, effortlessly attractive, completely lost in his own world. Or maybe it was just because you were so used to him being all over you that his absence felt unnatural. Either way, you felt restless, needy.

You shifted slightly, stretching out your legs as your fingers brushed against your thigh. Absentmindedly, you let them trail up and down, brushing over your stomach before sliding back down. A soft sigh left your lips. It wasn’t enough.

You turned your head toward him, watching him from across the room.

“Hamzah…” you murmured, testing to see if he’d respond.

Nothing.

“Hamzahhh…” you called again, a little louder this time.

Still nothing.

You huffed, flopping back onto the pillows. He was really testing your patience.

Before you could call his name again, a sudden shout filled the room.

“Fuck!”

You jumped, eyes snapping toward him.

“Fuck this stupid game!” he cursed again, hands gripping the edge of his desk. His character must have just died, because a second later, he ripped off his headset, running a frustrated hand down his face.

“I gotta go, guys,” he muttered into the mic before hastily leaving the game and the call. His fingers moved quickly, shutting off his computer completely.

Then, for the first time in hours, his full attention was on you.

His dark eyes flickered over to the bed, his expression unreadable as he took you in—your oversized t-shirt, the way your legs were curled beneath you, the slight pout on your lips. Slowly, he pushed his chair back and stood up, the sudden silence making your heart beat just a little faster.

He walked toward you, his steps slow and deliberate, the weight of his gaze making you shift under the covers.

“Alright, baby,” he murmured, voice deeper now, more serious. “You wanted my attention?”

You swallowed, nodding as he reached the edge of the bed.

He smirked, leaning down until his face was just inches from yours. His fingers brushed against your thigh, featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ve got it.”

And with that, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a slow, teasing kiss.

────୨ৎ────

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere Eldritch being who has taken over your entire town.

TW. Dead Dove Do Not Eat Horror, confinement, isolation, death, Stockholm syndrome, yandere

You didn’t know when it had happened, but there was something very obviously wrong with your town.

It was the little things like the warped street signs, the inconsistent cracks in the sidewalk, and the way that the uncanny faces of people seemed to stare at you. It didn’t use to be like this, but you found yourself cautious about your new reality on the daily. You did try to leave and call for help, but there was some mysterious force cutting off your network. And when you did try to pack all your bags and high tail it out of there, you would end up just looping straight back on your street no matter what direction you drove in.

So now you made do with the fact that nothing was normal.

You sometimes wonder why whatever has infected all the people decided to leave you alone. Because there was no way it wasn’t a conscious decision. Your favorite flowers would start sprouting out of concrete walls and glass despite the fact it would be the middle of winter one day and a scorching summer the next. Not to mention, those flowers didn’t even grow here to begin with. It was a gesture. If it was meant to tempt or be kind, you weren’t sure. 

The town functioned like nothing was out of the ordinary, though. Well, at least it tried to puppet the barely real bodies of your community to do things they would daily. The grocery store always had food and figures milling about, and even though none of the products ever tasted quite right or had words in a real language, you could tell “it” was trying to keep things running for you.

You’d once tried to hide away in your house, thinking that it was somehow protecting you from whatever was out there. But all you did was make it angry. Constant thunderstorms that shook the ground, and hail that pounded on your roof and walls. When you continued to stay inside, that’s when it made things clear: it was letting you stay as you were. The house shifted dramatically, doors disappearing and walls bending in front of your eyes. 

Come outside. Stop trying to resist.

Privacy was just another one of those far-out concepts now.

The thing, as you so liked to call it, had been more affectionate lately. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it, but it had started morphing all the “people” into more attractive versions of themselves. Or at least, what it thought of as attractive to humans. Their faces were more tangible now and less blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but they were uncanny in a new way. Skin too smooth, too perfect in so many different ways. Symmetrical, full lips, pleasant expressions, soothing voices: all things that on paper would lure someone in, but it had alarm bells ringing in your head nearly all the time now.

“I don’t like this, you know,” You said one day as you sat in the diner. The room was stretched out wider than what it looked like on the outside, and the waitress had an unnaturally wide smile. Before you was a plate of… something. Your guess was pancakes.

“What do you mean?” Several voices asked at once. It came from all around, and the waitress’s mouth barely moved to match the words. 

“ I like you better when you aren’t trying so hard to be something you weren’t.”

There was a pause, and the building slowly unraveled into a jumbled mess of things that you could barely comprehend, the other patrons' faces and bodies melting away into linoleum floors. 

“You’re not human. You don’t have to be. I think I’d prefer that honestly,” You shrugged and poked at your food. From the corner of your eyes, a figure seemed to emerge from the mess of what used to be your favorite restaurant. It was a writhing mass of dark tendrils, reaching for anything nearby. You’re breath caught in your throat.

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice spoke, but there wasn’t any face to accompany it. It reverberated in the base of your spine, racing through your nerves like lightning. Your breath hitched, and you finally gathered enough courage to look at it. It was a mess of things you couldn’t quite make out, but it was almost comforting. 

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you,” you admitted, a small laugh of disbelief caught in your throat. You couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time it had actually listened to you. 

The being twitched, pulsing as it slid over towards where you were sitting at the booth. It was the only thing that had stayed intact. For something so expressionless, you’d dare to say it seemed shy. 

From the inky mass, one tendril reached out for you, the air around it crackling. You stayed in place as it slid over your hand, and you felt the wonder and relief.

“Will you stay with me? I don’t want to force you, but I’m so alone… you’re the only one who doesn’t disappear when I’m near.”

You blinked as the mass filled the cracks between your hands, folding into the lines of your palms as if trying to memorize you. If it had a hand, you’d be holding it. If it had lips, yours would be slotting against them. If it had a heart, you were certain they’d be painted a similar shade of loneliness. 

You stood up and slowly approached it, holding out your arms as you leaned in, wrapped your arms around its slowly forming figure, and nodded in silence. 

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO SAVE LIVES

featuring. neurosurgeon!gojo | smut mdni, repost :p

neurosurgeon!gojo who you unknowingly meet in a bar on the night before your first day at your new job as a surgical intern. you didn’t really intend to get as drunk as you did, and you didn’t intend to kiss the really cute guy at the bar who had your attention all night. but, you more than definitely didn’t intend to bring him back to your apartment

“oh- fuck.”, you mewl as he continues pounding into your overstimulated pussy, his hand wrapped gently around your neck with the other roughly grabbing onto the plush of your hips. his brows were furrowed as he chases both of your highs with his own faint whimpers, his movements just so perfectly hitting your g-spot as you wrap your legs around his waist and throwing your head back because of the pure euphoria this man you had just met was giving you

neurosurgeon!gojo who wakes up in your bed the next morning, feeling so confused after you just shook his peacefully sleeping figure awake, ranting on at him

“so yeah, you need to leave.”, was the only thing he managed to clock onto after you had been rambling on about something. being late for your first day of work was it? all while he was still figuring out where he was for a second. he thinks you’re cute, though, trying to rush him out of your apartment. can’t say he’s ever had that happen to him before

neurosurgeon!gojo who does eventually leave after you got into the shower with you thinking that was it and you’d never see this ridiculously attractive stranger again

neurosurgeon!gojo who is described as a genius on your first day at work as a surgical intern, as one of the best surgeons in the country. some even would go as far to say the world. you were just so excited to meet and potentially work with him! especially with your interest to specialise in neurosurgery

neurosurgeon!gojo who makes some time in his busy schedule to talk to all the new surgical interns as head of neurosurgery and give some insight and advice to his new colleagues

neurosurgeon!gojo who sees you as he’s talking, his breath caught in his throat and stumbling on his words which go unnoticed by absolutely no one. you sharply inhale, knowing you had just slept with the head of neurosurgery just twelve hours ago - god, was this gonna cause a conflict of interest?

“oh my god, do you know the dr. gojo?”, one of your fellow interns ask as you feel your face heat up in embarrassment, shaking your head and pretending like you’ve never seen this man, when the night before he was eight inches deep inside you

neurosurgeon!gojo who after the talk with the interns, pulls you to the side with a cheeky grin on his face as he mentions the night before while you stand there awkwardly with your hands clasped together

neurosurgeon!gojo who then shamelessly asks you out to dinner, only to be met with your furrowed brows and stern voice telling him that it was inappropriate. he was basically your boss, who was several years older than you at that. not to mention that you’d both get fired if anyone was to find out

neurosurgeon!gojo who takes your rejection as a game, continuing to flirt with you shamelessly any chance he got despite the eye rolls and heavy sighs you met him with

neurosurgeon!gojo who chases you for the next month, even letting you assist in his surgeries after finding out how interested in neurosurgery you were. you wondered if he was simply playing favourites

“did you let me assist because we slept together?”, you ask bluntly, just ripping the bandaid off. “hm? yes i did.”, he admits with a shrug. “do you not realise how inappropriate that is?”, you scoff. “well, that’s what you wanted me to say, wasn’t it? that i chose you because you’re my favourite.” there’s a pause, “i chose you because i thought you were the most capable. believe it or not, i know how to do my job.”

neurosurgeon!gojo who you soon realise isn’t as bad as you originally thought as you continue working with him, his cocky demeanour slipping every so often where you see a genuinely selfless and kind hearted man who just simply wants to save lives

neurosurgeon!gojo who asks you out for a drink, one drink, he says, simply to celebrate a successful surgery on a case that had a 20% chance of survival after your assist with him

neurosurgeon!gojo who is so delightfully surprised when you say yes, his constant days of chasing you finally moving in the direction he wanted, even if it was minimal

neurosurgeon!gojo who ends up buying you both multiple drinks, just as you knew would happen. the both of you were so giggly as you stumble out the bar together, your hand resting on his chest whilst his arm was wrapped around your shoulder

neurosurgeon!gojo who decides to take his chances, the liquid courage definitely hitting his head a little too hard, and pulls you in slowly as he places a small and sweet kiss on your lips, completely taking you by surprise

neurosurgeon!gojo who apologises profusely once he sees your shocked reaction, thinking he’s just fucked up the good night you both were having together

neurosurgeon!gojo who is shut up by you, pulling his shirt so he’s down to your level and roughly kissing him again, the previous worries you had before completely gone and the only thing on your mind was him, and just maybe that mind blowing sex he gave you the first night you met

“take me home?”, you ask as gojo catches on to the real meaning behind your words, smiling to himself as he nods with butterflies in his stomach. maybe his hard work flirting with you had finally paid off

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[sevsgiirl]

Sevika headcanons please? Romantic & sexual, when she has crush etc? Pretty pleaseeee?

— sevika being a lovesick puppy for you

synopsis: sevika doesn’t understand why she can’t seem to act normally around silco’s new hire. she’s never had a problem letting anybody know what she thinks about them, but you? you were different. and it was driving her insane.

note: my first req 🥹 so sorry if this was sloppy I did it last minute but I was just excited to write this for you. I hope you like it and thank you for sending this in!

𖥔 sevika wouldn’t consider herself a shy romantic. she isn’t the type to stutter when she sees a person she likes and she definitely has no problem walking up to people she finds attractive and asking them out. when she wants something, she goes for it.

𖥔 that’s why she was baffled when she met you. you were silco’s new hire and when he informed sevika about you saying you were his new informant and that you’d be joining her in missions, she didn’t think much of it.

𖥔 what she didn’t expect was her becoming so smitten by you that she avoided talking to you for the first couple of weeks. there was just something about you and the way you walked into a room and her eyes immediately gravitated towards you but she just couldn’t seem to muster the courage to introduce herself.

𖥔 you assumed she was either just guarded or that she didn’t like you. you tried not to take it personally but you had to admit it was torture because you found the older woman incredibly interesting and wanted to strike up a conversation with her.

𖥔 but it seems like whenever she sees you she refuses to acknowledge your presence. walking past you, answering your work related questions with either a hum or a nonchalant ‘yes’ or ‘no’

𖥔 what you didn’t know is that sevika was losing her mind because she’s never acted this way around anybody.

𖥔 perhaps it was your innocent and warm personality that made her hesitant to talk to you, because you were so different from her and everybody else that worked for silco. you didn’t seem like you fit here but you always got the job done when asked and that just flustered her even more.

𖥔 not to mention, you’re hot. so fucking hot especially when you’d walk around in those tight fitted shorts you always wore that showed off your legs and thighs that made her mouth go dry every single time.

𖥔 sometimes you’d do things by accident that would make her brain go haywire. whether it was leaning against the bar talking to thieram and you’d arch your back enough for your ass to poke out. how you’d fold your arms together and it’d cause your tits to be pushed together. how every time you’d talk to someone, you have this habit of tilting your head and biting your lower lip and she’d have to restrain yourself from biting her entire fist.

𖥔 don’t even get her started on the way you say her name, your voice all sultry and sweet “sevika? are you ready to go?” she always ends up giving you a nod because she knew if she responded verbally she’d be a spluttering mess.

𖥔 she didn’t want to come across as a bitch but she knew it was likely looking that way, but she just didn’t know how to act around you. it was frustrating.

𖥔 eventually though, you’ve had enough and asked her about it “sevika? can I have a word with you?”

𖥔 she was backed into a corner and she tried so hard not to sound like an idiot “what for?” she asked, hoping you didn’t notice the panic in her tone.

𖥔 you sighed, looking down on your feet “I just wanted to ask if we’re good? I’ve been working here for almost a month now and I know it’s probably not that serious but I just can’t let it slide how you talk to everyone here but me. if I did something wrong that made you dislike me please just-“

𖥔 “what? no!” she exclaimed which surprised you “I mean… fuck. I don’t hate you, princess. you’ve done nothing wrong and you’re…” basically fucking perfect is what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself “you’re good. you’re more than good but I just have a hard time with new hires, it doesn’t help that you’re younger.”

𖥔 “well, that’s silly. you know you can talk to me, I won’t bite.” the implications of your words made her gulp “how about you come to my place this saturday and I cook you lunch? please? I really want to get to know you.”

𖥔 trying to talk to you while there was so many people around was already a struggle, imagine being left alone with you “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

𖥔 “please?” and there it is again, that tone you always use that makes her fucking melt “I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

𖥔 the next thing sevika knew, it was saturday and she was in front of your door wondering whether or not her decision to come to your place was a great idea.

𖥔 truth be told, you had every right to feel hurt about sevika’s ambivalence towards you, but usually people would just let it slide because they were scared of her. you though?

𖥔 “sevika, hi!” you said as you greeted her at your door “I was wondering when you’d show.”

𖥔 she offered an awkward smile “yeah well, I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

𖥔 what she came to realize as soon as she arrived however, both to her pleasure and horror, was that you were good company to have around. which she hated. it was enough that she was not only attracted to you physically but the fact she was smitten by your personality as well made her want to pull her hair out. you could talk for hours and she’d listen to every single word.

𖥔 “I’m really glad we cleared the air because I was scared that I did something wrong for you to ignore me,” you said with a sheepish smile as you ate lunch with her “for a moment, I thought I was being a show off which might’ve annoyed you…”

𖥔 sevika immediately shook her head “no, that’s not… don’t ever think that.” you blinked up at her, as if to coax her into saying what really was the reason why she avoided you like the plague.

𖥔 and she thought since she’s here and there’s no point in acting like a sappy teenager at her grown age, she might as well come clean “I just find you attractive is all, princess. you came in and you had this sparkle about you and I didn’t know how to handle it. I’m used to being surrounded with old men at work so seeing you - young, bright and full of potential… I didn’t know how to make of it.”

𖥔 you were stunned for a second, your mouth agape “sev…” you bit your lip as you look down on your plate “well… if it’s any consolation I must say the feelings are mutual.”

𖥔 sevika’s eyes widened so much she swore they almost popped out.

𖥔 “what?” she asked as you nodded.

𖥔 “yeah, you’re so experienced and good at your job and silco trusts you so much. that’s why it was a big deal that you liked me or not because the truth is, out of everyone at work, I crave your validation the most.”

𖥔 her throat bobbed at your confession, an unmistakable heat pooling at her insides “yeah?” she said hoarsely.

𖥔 you smiled “I mean, of course, take it as you will. but I just wanted to let you know.”

𖥔 sevika swore she wasn’t going to cave into the allure of your words, of what they suggested, you were the new hire and it’d be so unprofessional of her to make a move on you. she kept that in mind even as you both finished lunch and she was about to walk out your apartment and leave…

𖥔 that’s why she doesn’t understand how she got here, stomach flat on the bed with your thighs trembling on both sides of her head as she licked a fat stripe off your leaking pussy. looking up at you with needy eyes and you stared back at her, a sly grin on your face.

𖥔 “oh sevi…” you moaned “and here I thought you hated me.”

[cherryyluvs]

Bro I saw that scum mark fanfic! Why is it gone😩 😞

🙂‍↔️ i accidentally deleted it but don’t worry i have a copy of it.

It started as a joke, you weren't even supposed to be part of the conversation. You were minding your business and on the way to the kitchen to grab a snack when you heard it.

it was just a dumb and offhand comment. Your brother and his friends were in the middle of their stupid sleepover. You were used to it and learned to tune them out, you'd heard them say worse, heard them talk about girls like this before. But when your name was mentioned. Everything changed.

“Yo, your sister’s kinda hot” one of them snorted, while popping open a can of soda.

You froze at the bottom of the stairs, your breath catching in your throat.

Your brother groaned in disgust. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just saying,” he laughed, his voice rough and joking. “She’s pretty cute.”

And before he could say another word, Mark scoffed, cutting the guy off before he could finish. “Ew her?”

Your stomach dropped, feeling a sharp pang through your chest.

The worst part? Was that he said it so casually, like mocking, like the idea of you being attractive was so far fetched that it was laughable.

Mark.

The guy you had been secretly crushing on for years, the guy who would barely even acknowledge your existence unless he was making fun of you.

Your brother immediately got defensive. “Don’t talk about her like that dude.”

The loudest one of the group just laughed and shrugged it off. “Relax, I’m not actually gonna hit on her.”

“Keep it that way” your brother said “And Mark, you’re one to talk for someone who barely gets girls himself”

The room erupted into laughter but Mark didn’t react. He just leaned back against the couch, sipping his drink like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Whatever, dude.”

You felt the sting of those words ‘ew her?’ you didn't want to admit this but the ache in your chest felt heavy. You quickly turned around to go to your room, hoping that no one saw your face.

“I'm going up stairs” you called out, quickly going up the stairs. Ignoring the way your heart seemed to race in your chest.

“Yeah, saw ya” you heard Mark calling behind you, but that didn't make you feel better.

[meathunt]

I would love more vampire dads please!! Seeing their dynamic with the reader is just so sweet! I would love to see more Elias too! (I think it’s funny how much of a softy he is is compared to Thomas..)

Elias would have never described himself as a soft man, even before his turning, he was a cold silent man, generous and kind in his own way, but in his line of work softness and warmth rarely survived, if ever. When human he was a leader, boss of many as one of the heads in the vampire hunter association, and one of the top performers, a no nonsense cold and calculating man.

Sure, he was caring with his loved ones, even playful. But never soft. As a mountain of a man it simply didn’t fit him. Strength and violence marked his day to day.

When Thomas entered his life it added a missing spice to it, the love, the undeniable attraction between the two of them, it was magical, Thomas was the first person he was ever sweet with, his downfall, his whole heart in one being. But even then he wouldn’t describe their relation as sweet, much less as something soft. They were two predators that often enjoyed a game of cat and mouse between themselves.

But then you came

Wonderful, sweet you

If Thomas was his downfall, you were his absolute demise, a child of his own, something he would have never dream about. You sweet face, your soft voice, it simply made his heart beat, reviving a part of him that was long gone. He feels guilty when he is reminded of your first interaction, if he’s honest he usually was a bit of a brute with other vampires entering his and his husband’s territory, but seeing you crying, so small and light in your dirty pajama, his heart broke, and the guilt of handling you so roughly eats at him every time.

He is not even sure why or how, but you simply are the apple of his eye, a sweet little thing that he loves dearly, if you asked for it he would bring you the moon and stars.

He treats you like royalty, softly carrying you from place to place. His heart melts when you curl up closer to him. Handling you with such care and giving you soft loving words and delicate touches. He hates to see you cry, doing anything in his power to make sure you never experience discomfort, hurt or sadness if he can help it.

In his eyes, you are nothing but a defenseless child, and he will be dammed if anything happens to you.

The day you discover that he's at your beck and call it's over for him.

[nakoyaps]

YOU’LL BE IN MY HEART

atsumu miya x insecure! reader

“DON’T LISTEN TO THEM, CAUSE WHAT DO THEY KNOW?”

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy dating ATSUMU MIYA. he’s a well-known student athlete, and you two aren’t even in the same social circle.

of course, people realized that he changed. from the dude who always basked in the spotlight— to the taken man protecting his girlfriend’s feelings? what a wuss.

despite his reputation of being carefree and unbothered, it surely worried him when the love of his life was suddenly hurt and disheartened.

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

“ya alright, pumpkin?” atsumu asks, worried.

it was saturday— your weekly movie night at his place. despite cuddling and having a cozy movie playing in the back, you couldn’t help but replay everyone’s comments over and over in your head.

you turned to face him. seeing the look of concern on his face, you couldn’t help but not want to worry him.

“i’m okay, tsumu.”

he raises a brow, doubt evident in his eyes. “really? it don’t seem like yer okay..”

it was hard to lie, especially when he knows everything about you— in and out.

you sigh in defeat, “promise you won’t get all pissy?”

he gives you a look of mock offense, bringing his hand up to his chest. “i am not pissy.”

you roll your eyes, deciding to tell him the truth;

“your fans seem to prefer you dating someone else..”

he paused. no sassy remark, nothing. “excuse me?”

“you’re a student-athlete, and your not exactly bad looking either..” you state, your voice lowering at the last bit.

he stares, baffled. “what the hell does that mean?”

“it means you’re like, practically the perfect boyfriend.. theoretically, i suppose. but, i’m barely considered conventionally attractive.“

even with how obvious you were making it, atsumu didn’t seem to understand.

“why would that matter?”

“because that’s how it is. a pretty girl can date an ugly guy, but not vice versa.”

he squints his eyes, the expression on his face clearly annoyed.

“so what? yer gorgeous.”

“maybe to you—“

before you could make a self-deprecating comment, he cuts you off. “yeah, and thats all that matters.”

you tilt your head, confused. “you don’t get it—“

again, cutting you off. “nah, yer the one that don’t get it. don’t listen to those nobodies, what do they know ‘bout us?”

before you could speak up, he continued making his statement. “they don’t know ya like i do. yer gorgeous, intelligent, talented.. and ya deal with my bullcrap better than anyone else.” he chuckles, “they don’t know what i’m like behind closed doors either, darlin’. i guarantee yer the only girl for me, the only one that can keep up with me.”

maybe, just maybe, dating an athlete isn’t such a bad idea.

you try to suppress the smile tugging at your lips, not going unnoticed by atsumu. being the jerk that he is, he pulls you closer, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

the only words you could describe his gaze was loving and adoration. with a dreamy sigh, he says, “imma marry ya one day, alright?”

you nod bashfully, your voice turning into a small whisper. “i’d like that..”

HELLO FRIENDSS!! haven’t been active lately lol, even if i do only post once a month.. i took a hiatus during feb for reasons even unknown to myself other than lack of motivation, but i’m happy my kenma fic is doing well, and i hope you all can enjoy this one as well :)

[blakeswritingimagines]

High Heels, High Class, High Maintenance

Summary: Meeting up with the hockey player you meet through online.

Warnings: Fem reader, Mention of drinking, OF! reader, Begging, PnV, PWP, No protection, Praise, Cumming inside, Talk of another round, can't think of what else.

Word Count: 3.7k

Matt had been on the dating app Raya for a few weeks now, and he had seen his fair share of profiles. However, one profile caught his eye - that of Petite Treat, a popular OnlyFans model with a huge following. Matt had seen your videos before, and he couldn't deny that he was attracted to you. He took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. He swiped right on your profile, hoping for a match. A few moments later, his phone buzzed with a notification - he had a match. Matt's heart raced as he opened your profile and saw that you had matched with him too. He quickly typed out a message, trying to sound suave and confident. ~Hey there, Petite Treat! I've seen your videos before and I have to say, I'm a big fan.~ He hit send and waited nervously for your response.

To his surprise, you responded almost immediately. ~Well, hello there! I'm glad to hear that you're a fan. Thanks for the kind words.~ Your message was short and sweet, but it was enough to put Matt at ease. The two of you began chatting back and forth, and Matt soon realized that you were not just a pretty face with a body to match. You were intelligent, witty and fun to talk to. He found himself getting more and more drawn to you with every message. After a few days of chatting, Matt decided to take things to the next level. He sent you a message asking if you'd be interested in meeting up for a drink. He held his breath as he waited for your response, hoping that you would say yes. To his delight, you agreed to meet up with him. You suggested meeting at a trendy bar in the city, and Matt agreed. He spent the day getting ready, picking out the perfect outfit and rehearsing what he would say when he saw you

When the night finally came, Matt arrived at the bar a few minutes early and took a seat at the bar. He ordered himself a drink and discreetly checked his phone for any messages from you. Just then, he heard a voice behind him. "Hey there, handsome." Matt turned around and froze as he saw you standing behind him, looking even more stunning in person than you did on camera. "H-hi." Matt suddenly felt tongue-tied, and he cursed himself inwardly for stuttering. He tried to compose himself as you sat down next to him at the bar. "You look even better in person," you repeated, your eyes tracing the line of his broad shoulders and sculpted chest beneath the tight shirt he wore. Your gaze continued down his body, taking in the tapered waist and muscular thighs encased in jeans that hugged him in all the right places. It was hard to believe that this gorgeous man was sitting next to you. Matt felt his cheeks heat up under your intense gaze, and he ducked his head shyly. "Thanks," he muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed but also strangely pleased by your attention. You smiled at his bashfulness, finding it endearing. "No need to be shy," you said, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm just being honest. You really do look great."

Matt's heart skipped a beat as your hand touched his arm, and he looked up at you in surprise. "Are you always this forward?" he asked, managing a small smile. You let your hand trail up his arm, feeling the toned muscles beneath his shirt. "Only when I see something I like," you said, your voice low and seductive. Your hand reached his shoulder and you gave it a light squeeze, enjoying the feel of his solid frame beneath your fingers. You noticed the way his cheeks flushed at your touch and the way his eyes darkened with desire, and you knew that you had him hooked. "And I like what I see right now," you added, your hand moving to his chest. Matt's breath caught in his throat at your words and your touch. He couldn't believe that this was happening - that he was sitting here with you, being flirted with so boldly. He found himself drawn to you, to your confidence and charisma, and he was helpless to resist your advances. "Um, can I get you a drink?" You smiled, amused by his sudden nervousness. "Sure, I'll have a martini." You watched as he ordered your drink, your eyes never leaving him. You could feel the attraction crackling between you, and you wondered where the night would lead.

Matt handed you your martini and took a sip of his own drink, feeling the alcohol buzz through his veins. He tried to think of something to say, something witty or charming, but all he could focus on was the way your eyes sparkled in the dim light and the way your body looked in that dress. You noticed his distracted gaze and couldn't help but smile. "See something you like?" you teased, taking a sip of your drink and watching him over the rim of your glass. Matt's cheeks flushed again and he ducked his head, embarrassed to be caught staring. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck apologetically. "I can't help it. You look beautiful." You smiled at his honesty. "Thank you," you said. "But you don't have to apologize for admiring the view. In fact, I like it." You leaned in a bit closer, your eyes locked with his. Matt's heart skipped a beat as you leaned closer, and he could smell the subtle sweetness of your perfume. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the conversation, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to think straight. Matt took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. "So… I've seen your videos before, obviously," he said awkwardly. "And I have to ask… how did you get into that line of work?" You shrugged nonchalantly, used to the question. "It just kind of happened," you said. "I started doing some modeling gigs, and then a friend suggested I try out OnlyFans. I wasn't sure at first, but I figured why not give it a shot, right? And it turned out that I actually enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would."

"Oh, okay." Matt nodded, feeling a bit taken aback by your casual answer. "I never thought about it like that before. I mean, I always assumed that people who do that kind of stuff were… I don't know… desperate or something." You raised an eyebrow at his words. "Desperate? Really? Is that what you think of me?" There was a hint of annoyance in your voice, and you fixed him with a challenging gaze. "No, no, that's not what I meant," Matt quickly backtracked, realizing that he had made a misstep. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just, you seem so… successful, and I can't imagine why someone like you would need to do that kind of work." You softened a bit at his clarification. "Thanks for saying that. But I do it because I enjoy it, not because I need to. I have fun doing it, and it pays well. That's all there is to it." Matt nodded, trying to wrap his head around the idea. "I guess I just don't really understand the appeal, I suppose. I mean, don't you ever worry about your privacy or people judging you?" "Of course I worry about it sometimes," you admitted. "But I use a alias and I'm careful about what I share online. And as for people judging me, well, I've learned to not let it bother me too much. I enjoy what I do and that's all that matters, right?"

"I suppose so." Matt took a thoughtful sip of his drink, mulling over your words. "But isn't it hard, having to constantly keep up appearances and please your audience? I imagine that can be stressful." You shrugged. "It can be, but as I said, I enjoy it. I get a rush from knowing that people are watching me and finding me attractive. And I like the attention, I won't lie. But at the end of the day, I have full control over what I share and how I present myself online. It's empowering, in a way." Matt nodded, beginning to understand your perspective a bit better. "I guess I can see how that would be appealing," he admitted. "But what about intimacy? Don't you miss the connection with a real person, instead of just performing for a camera all the time?" You sighed, taking another sip of your drink. "I know what you mean," you said. "That's why I'm here, actually. It's harder than you think to find real intimacy when you do this kind of work. People assume things about you, they have expectations, and it's difficult to separate the real you from the persona you put on for the camera." Matt's expression softened as he began to understand the struggle you were facing. "But you're not like that," he said assuredly. "You're more than just a pretty face with a body to match. You're smart and confident and successful. You can't let people reduce you to just your job."

You smiled, feeling touched by his words. "You're right," you said. "And it's nice to know that someone sees me as a real person. Most people just see me as a fantasy... even if you're a fan." "I might have been a fan before," Matt said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But I think I'm starting to appreciate the person behind the camera." Hours passed, the bar was starting to get crowded, and the music was getting louder. You and Matt had been talking for what felt like forever, the conversation flowing easily between you. The alcohol had helped to loosen your inhibitions, and you were both laughing and flirting shamelessly with each other. Your hand lingered on Matt's arm as you leaned closer to speak in his ear. "Maybe we should get out of here," you suggested, your voice low and sultry. "Somewhere quieter, where we can talk without having to yell over the music." Matt nodded, feeling the heat of your breath on his skin. "That sounds like a good idea," he said, his gaze fixed on your lips. "My place is just around the corner." You let him lead you outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffy bar. As you walked, your arm brushed against Matt's, and he reflexively took your hand in his. The simple gesture felt surprisingly intimate, and you found yourself squeezing his hand slightly in response.

The walk to Matt's apartment was short but tension-filled, both of you keenly aware of the chemistry between you. Matt unlocked the door and led you inside, shutting the door behind him. The apartment was cozy and neat, with a modern but lived-in feel. Matt led you to the couch and sat down next to you. The atmosphere had grown even more charged, and you found yourself drawn to him, attracted by his genuine interest and his magnetic presence. You sat close to him, your leg pressed against his, the heat of his body seeping through his jeans. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach, and you found yourself unconsciously leaning in towards him. Matt's eyes flicked to your lips, and he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and gently captured your mouth in a kiss. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but as the tension between you exploded, it quickly became more urgent and possessive. Matt's hand cupped your face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. You parted your lips with a moan, letting him explore you freely. Your hands roved over his chest and shoulders, feeling the firm muscles beneath his clothing.

Matt shifted on the couch, guiding you to lie back against the cushions as he loomed over you, his body pressing against yours. His mouth trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as you gasped and arched your back in response. Matt's hands explored your body, slipping under your dress to touch your skin, his touch igniting your senses. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging gently as he continued his assault on your neck, leaving behind a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hands moved to your thighs, his calloused fingers skimming over your skin as he hitched your dress up inch by inch. The air in the room felt charged, the electricity between you crackling with intensity. Matt pulled away just long enough to admire the sight of you beneath him, your hair mussed and your skin glowing, your eyes dark with desire. He let out a low, possessive growl before diving back in, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss that left you breathless. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, the anticipation building as Matt's touch grew more insistent. His hands roamed over your body, the rough pads of his fingers and the hard, needy press of his body against yours driving you almost to distraction.

You found yourself desperately tugging at Matt's shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin against yours. He got the hint and sat up just long enough to pull the shirt over his head, revealing a toned, muscular chest that you couldn't resist running your hands over. Matt groaned at your touch, the sensations sending sparks of pleasure through his veins. He leaned back down, trapping you between him and the couch, his body pressing you into the cushions as he reclaimed your mouth in a searing kiss. You surrendered to the kiss, letting go of everything except the feel of Matt's mouth and hands on your body, the weight of his body on yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him even closer, and you could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against you, sending a shiver of need through you and whined. "Matt." Matt broke the kiss, his breath ragged and his eyes wild with want. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you," he said, his voice gravelly with desire. "I can't believe you're here with me right now." Matt pulled back at the sound of his name, his gaze meeting yours. "What do you want, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. He knew what he wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it, to hear you surrender to him completely.

You looked up at Matt, your heart pounding in your chest, your body trembling with need. "I want you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the racing of your pulse. "I want to feel every inch of you, to have you inside me, to lose myself in you." You reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it off over your head and tossing it aside, exposing your bare body to his hungry gaze. "Please, Matt," you begged, arching your back to offer yourself to him. "Make love to me." Matt's control snapped at your words, his hands immediately going to your breasts, palming them roughly as he dipped his head to take a nipple into his mouth. He suckled hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. He stood, stripping off his own clothes with impatient efficiency until he was fully naked, his impressive erection jutting proudly from a thatch of dark hair. Then he returned to you, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone as he positioned himself between your thighs. "Tell me again," he commanded, his hot breath fanning over your skin. "Say you want my cock inside you." You gasped as Matt's mouth closed over your breast, his skilled tongue and teeth sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. When he lifted his head, demanding to hear you beg once more, you were lost, consumed by the raw hunger in his eyes. "Oh God, yes," you whimpered, your hips lifting to meet his. "I want your big, thick cock inside me, filling me up, stretching me open. Please, Matt, fuck me hard and deep. Make me yours." As you spoke, you wrapped your legs around his waist, guiding him to the slick heat between your thighs.

Matt's eyes raked over your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of you, his breath catching in his throat. He stood up, towering over you, the scars and bruises on his body a testament to his passion for the game. He knelt before you, his large hands gripping your hips as he leaned in to capture your nipple between his teeth, nibbling and sucking until you cried out in pleasure. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'm going to worship every part of you." You arched your back, pressing your breast further into Matt's mouth as he lavished attention on you. His words sent a thrill through you, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close. "Yes, please," you breathed, your voice thick with desire. "Worship me." As he continued to tease and torment your nipples, you felt his large hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve and dip. One hand slid lower, dipping between your thighs to find your slick, heated core. He stroked you slowly, teasingly, making you squirm and whimper with need. "More," you pleaded, grinding your hips against his hand. "I need you inside me, Matt. Now."

Matt released your nipple with a pop, his eyes burning with lust as he gazed up at you. "As you wish," he growled, positioning himself between your thighs. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, groaning at the exquisite tightness that enveloped his cock. He paused for a moment, savoring the sensation, before withdrawing and slamming back in, setting a relentless pace. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pistoned in and out of you, each stroke hitting that sweet spot within you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he grunted, his rhythm faltering slightly as he struggled to maintain control. "So tight and wet… you were made for me." Your back bowed off the couch as Matt filled you, the stretch and fullness of him making you gasp. He set a brutal pace, each thrust rocking you to the core, the force of his movements sending the air whooshing from your lungs. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as you met his strokes, desperate for more, for deeper, harder. "Yes, oh god, yes!" you cried out, your voice echoing through the room. "Harder, Matt! Fuck me harder!" As he pounded into you. Matt's filthy words only fueled the fire, making you ache to come undone in his arms. "Don't stop," you panted, your hips bucking wildly against his.

Matt's control shattered at your plea, his hips snapping forward with reckless abandon as he drove into you with primal intensity. The couch creaked ominously beneath you, but neither of you cared about the potential destruction - all that mattered was the all-consuming need to claim you, to make you scream his name. "Take it, baby," he snarled, his breath harsh against your ear. "Take every fucking inch of my cock." His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin, the obscene sound spurring him on as he chased his release. Matt could feel his orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in his gut like a tightly wound spring ready to snap. "Come for me," he commanded, his voice raw with desperation. "I want to feel this sweet pussy squeeze around me." The coil of pleasure inside you tightened to the breaking point as Matt's words and actions pushed you closer to the edge. His cock pistoning in and out of you, the relentless pressure and friction, it was too much, and you came apart with a keening wail. Your inner walls clenched around him, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. "Matt!" you screamed, your voice hoarse with pleasure. "Oh god, yes! I'm coming!" The sensations were overwhelming, and you felt yourself being swept away on a tide of bliss, your mind fogging with pleasure. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, Matt's body tensed, his thrusts becoming erratic as he reached his own climax.

Matt's hips jerked erratically as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he emptied himself deep within your quivering depths. A guttural roar tore from his throat, the sound muffled by your shoulder as he collapsed onto you, his weight pinning you to the couch. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. After a few moments, he lifted his head, his eyes glazed with satisfaction as he gazed down at you. "That was incredible," he murmured, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead. You lay there, basking in the afterglow, feeling utterly spent yet incredibly satisfied. Matt's weight on top of you was comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Mmm, it definitely was," you agreed, your voice still husky from your cries of pleasure. You tilted your head to look up at him, a lazy smile spreading across your face. "You really know how to show a girl a good time." Matt chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through your chest. "I aim to please," he replied, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And judging by those screams, I'd say I hit the mark." You giggled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful words. "Definitely a home run."

Matt grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. "Glad to hear that," he murmured against your mouth, his thumbs rubbing circles on your bottom. "But don't think we're done just yet." He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense as he studied your face. "There are still so many ways I can make you feel good. And I intend to explore every single one of them." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a renewed surge of desire course through you. "Then by all means," you purred, running your fingers through his hair, "show me what else you've got."

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Cuts A Straight Line Down Through The Heart

I wrote a time travel fix-it for "Holy Mother of God." Is it time travel? Is it a time loop? I don't know, because Buck fixes it the first time around (spoilers). You can read the whole thing on AO3 here, because it's 8k words. But here's a preview:

Buck opens his front door and stares at the dark living room, feeling like it should be as empty as he is inside. 

He'd almost spent the night at Maddie's again, but she'd told him that she was proud of him for finally settling into his new place, even if it was because he'd had someone over. He wishes he'd stayed, because this is worse than feeling left behind by just Eddie. 

He feels something like hurt and anger flare in him at the thought of his best friend, because he's never had to justify their friendship so much. It feels like it's being written off as only mattering to Buck because Maddie and maybe Tommy and who knew who else thought he had romantic feelings for him. 

Maybe, once upon a time, if he'd figured out his bisexuality at a younger age, he would've realized his early admiration of Eddie had been tinged with attraction. But those days are long gone, and he can't even be sure that was the case or if he's just trying to find something that wasn't really there with the new queer lens he's started examining his past with.

He's still standing in the doorway, and he walks inside, his steps heavy. He doesn't turn on the light and goes to the kitchen to get water, ignoring the dirty dishes from the morning after breakfast that wasn't. When he opens the refrigerator to put the lone banana muffin for his breakfast inside, he stares at the bottle of champagne, the one he'd had to move before it exploded in his freezer because Tommy hadn't meant for it to stay there for hours before Buck discovered it. The hollow feeling at the pit of his stomach gets worse and starts to hurt, and he backs away as his eyes blur with tears. 

He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up again and said the wrong things again without telling Tommy how he really felt again. It's like his brain is broken, and he hates himself for it. 

Buck wraps his arms around himself and bends forward, knees bending almost in a crouch, and he sobs. He wants Tommy, wants to hear his voice and see his smile and feel his hands and his arms. He wants to go back and fix this, he wants it more than anything. He wishes that just once, he could fix something he'd broken.

When he collapses in bed, he pulls the other pillow to his chest and breathes in the phantom smell of Tommy's shampoo and cologne and deodorant and sweat until he falls asleep. 

–

He wakes up, realizes it's too bright, that he's overslept for his shift, and he shoots to his feet. Except his foot catches on something and he almost slips and falls on his ass. Bending down, he frowns when he picks up his jeans. Except he'd thrown his jeans in the corner since he didn't know what happened to his laundry hamper. 

“What the hell?” he mutters, tossing them away. 

When he steps through the bedroom doorway, he smells bacon. And when he keeps walking toward his kitchen, worrying he's in another coma dream or having a neurological episode, he hears the sound of the freezer closing and sees Tommy step back.

“Hi,” Tommy says, smiling at him. Smiling like nothing’s wrong, like Buck hadn't dropped a grenade on their chances of getting back together, like the entire previous day hadn't happened. Smiling in the same clothes he'd been wearing. 

“I-I thought you had a shift,” Buck says, and Tommy looks at him funny. 

“Not until tomorrow,” he says. “Didn't want to leave without feeding you.”

And Tommy gently taps his stomach with the back of his hand before turning away, and Buck’s entire world shifts on its axis when he gets hit with an intense wave of déjà vu. It's so bad that he worries, once again, that he's having a neurological episode. It intensifies when he sees the spread of food—the same spread of food.

“What's—” he can't even get the question out, doesn't know what to ask.

“I went to the corner store,” Tommy says, standing the same, his intonation the same, his nod toward the coffee maker the same. “There's coffee.”

“Yeah, you unpacked my coffee maker,” Buck says faintly.

“The box labeled ‘coffee-maker’ was the tip-off.” And he looks at Buck the same. 

[vocalcretins]

Fiction should not be illegal.

(Full article)

Fictional writing, which does not depict a single real people, should never be deemed illegal anywhere on earth, no matter how offensive, shocking or repulsive it may appear to my eyes or yours or those of any law enforcement.

This material records no crime and creates no victim.

No one is forced to read filth - not anymore than they are forced to read theological treatises or gardening magazines. The theory is that we must trust adults to be mature enough to choose for themselves what to read - to identify filth when they see it and to choose literature that fulfills some need within themselves.

What shocks me may be sustenance for my neighbor. What causes one person to boil up in rage over one pamphlet or movie may reflect only his neurosis, not shared by others.

Humankind was not made in a fixed mold.

Each of us develops with their own unique preferences and intimate desires. Each of us is subject to very transient tastes, with likes and dislikes that cover the spectrum.

Some people like Chopin. Others prefer rock and roll. Some are sexually "normal," and some are considered "deviant" in their attractions.

And however plebeian my tastes may be, who am I to say that someone else's tastes must be so limited - that other tastes have "no redeeming value"?

When we say that something has "no redeeming value," what does that mean?

"Redeeming" to who? "Value" to who?

Should we only care about the "values" of the majority? Why isn't a minority "value" considered important?

If a publication caters to the idiosyncrasies of a minority, then doesn't it automatically have some "value"?

How can we know enough to probe the mysteries of the subconscious of our people and say that this is good for them, and that is not?

Catering to the most eccentric taste may have "social importance" in giving that minority an opportunity to express itself, rather than to repress its inner desires

How can we know that this expression may not prevent antisocial conduct?

If we were wise enough, we might know that communication may have greater therapeutic value than any sermon that those of the so-called "normal" community can ever offer.

There is a fact that remains obvious, but which is often overlooked:

Popular speech does not need defending, because no one is trying to silence it.

It is only ever controversial speech that needs defending.

When the enlightenment philosophers first came up with the concepts behind "freedom of expression," they were very clear:

The goal was specifically to invite dispute, induce unrest, and even stir people to anger. That’s because these are all good things.

They promote dialogue and allow minority voices to express themselves rather than being summarily silenced and dismissed.

We must draw vital distinctions between words and deeds, between ideas and conduct.

Today, some minority groups are indeed considered repulsive to the majority of society because of the interests they hold and the media they consume.

What makes YOU so sure that you would not be considered repulsive by the majority, because of the interests YOU hold and the media YOU consume?

How sure are you that you will always be on the side of the majority?

[sunflw3rbouquet]

doctor! doctor! - hc

zayne x doctor!male reader

overview: zayne and his doctor boyfriend hc! notes: condensing the medical career bc this is fiction and lighthearted (i didn't wanna be logical), not lore compliant (reader is a doctor), cute boyfriends, unedited again bc of time, reader cooks tw: mentions of being a doctor!

…sun✰ ive been on lads for over a month now and zayne is the loml

✰as much as the two of you would like to pretend your relationship was some interesting office romance, it truly didn’t start like that ✰you went to the same med school, that was the only reason you knew each other. ✰zayne was a 3rd year while you were a 1st year,  ✰you had mutual friends, which allowed you to meet decently often ✰you didn’t get together until you were a 2nd year and he was a 4th year, but you’ve been together ever since! ✰he was the one to ask you out, mostly because he hates being in the dark about important things, like your feelings for each other ✰however, he couldn’t have chosen a worse time if he tried

y/n had just finished his first cadaver dissection of his second year of med school. he had been standing up for almost the whole day, his back aching as he finished the last dissection. the doctor watching the students' work dismissed them, instructing them on the work they had to complete before their next class.

the students talked calmly as they excited, a slouch forming in y/n’s posture as he walked to the biohazard trash can. he took off his ppe, sweat drenching the area under his gloves and chest. the cool air of the restroom took the edge off the heat. the bathroom was on the opposite side of the hallway, y/n shutting the door to the surgery room behind him before entering in the restroom. after approaching the sink, he splashed water on his face, his black undershirt covered in sweat stains. he looked as bad as he felt, the 8 plus hour surgery a monster on his body.

as he exited the restroom he was met with zayne standing outside, a look of subtle panic etching the man’s usually stoic face. “can we talk, y/n?” zayne asked, blinking once after he finished the sentence. y/n thought he could hear the smallest quiver in his voice while he spoke.

“can it wait a bit? i just finished my dissection-“ y/n asked, zayne running a hand through his hair, glasses falling down his face. he was wearing a pair of grey, cotton scrubs, his hospital id hanging from the pocket in his pants. purple bags lived right under his tear ducts, but not only were they not as noticeable as other students’, they somehow made him look more attractive.

“it’s urgent.” zayne had lost the fear that rested in his voice, his hand moving to push up his silver glasses that had fallen down his nose. taking a deep breath, y/n pushed his hair back, sighing. 

“fine.”

y/n expected for zayne to say something, but there was silence. unbearable, loud silence. he looked at the man, waiting for the words to leave his lips. y/n’s eyebrow raised, lips pressing into a straight line.

“would you like to go on a date with me?” zayne asked, his eyes glimmering with the smallest bits of emotion. y/n’s jaw almost dropped, eyes widening.

“i would love to, oh my god.” he spoke, zayne’s hand trailing to find y/n’s. 

“are you free wednesday?” “for you, i am.”

✰like the snow melting on a sunny, spring day, zayne warmed up almost the instant they got together ✰his indifferent expressions turned into bright smiles, and his awkward posture turned into comfortable and relaxed affection ✰zayne is a cuddle bug. entirely. ✰long shifts and tiring days drain every cent of energy from his body, and now that you’re boyfriends, there’s something to replenish his energy!

the clock read 3:37.

y/n had finished his shower, damp hair resting on the pillow of his full bed as he waited for zayne to finish washing up. the two were home late for different reasons: y/n had finished another dissection and was writing multiple essays, while zayne was in the final stretch of his shift.

every second that ticked by made y/n want to close his eyes even more. it was exhausting staying up. it was exhausting working every day. he wished for a break more than he wished for the sun to shine bright on a cold day and for a glass of water when he was thirsty. 

and then zayne entered the room.

water dripped from his short bangs, pajamas hanging loosely on his body as he practically limped to the bed because of the sore muscles in his legs and back. but this zayne, this tired, wrecked, zayne, made everything worth it.

“my bloods going to start clotting if i keep only standing and sitting all day.” zayne muttered, sitting down on the bed before pulling the covers on top of him. y/n laughed, moving closer so he was next to zayne’s side.

“you’re going to get a cold if you fall asleep with wet hair.” y/n spoke, adjusting zayne so he was sitting up, stealing the damp towel from his hands to dry the man’s hair. zayne scoffed, moving his hands to rest on y/n’s thigh. 

“that’s not real, you know?” y/n rolled his eyes, rubbing his head a little harder, just to let zayne know he meant to tease him.

“i’m just trying to be a caring boyfriend, stop going all doctor on me.” y/n pouted, shifting once more so he now sat on zayne’s lap. zayne smiled, his hands wrapping around his boyfriend’s waist as a smile creeped onto his face.

“oh, i see. carry on then, handsome boyfriend.” zayne smiled proudly. y/n let out a scoff, pressing a soft kiss to zayne’s cheek. “finish drying my hair, i feel a cold coming.” y/n stopped his movement of drying the man’s hair, looking at his face. he cocked his eyebrow, zayne’s lips pursing. the man let out a fake cough, doe eyes sparkling as he looked at y/n.

it took all of the strength in y/n’s body to not give in to the man. but sadly, he still gave in to him. he leaned forward, a pressing a kiss to his lips happily. “i love you, now sit still so i can dry your hair.” y/n muttered, zayne breaking into a smile, any traces of that “cold” gone.

✰residency was truly when the “office romance” started  ✰due to the opening of the deepspace tunnel all those years ago, linkon city’s medical program had condensed substantially, meaning zayne was already out of residency and a cardio surgeon by the time y/n was a first year resident at akso hospital ✰long glances at each other when walking through the halls turned into lingering touches when you visited him in his office in the second you were alone ✰somehow, seeing zayne at work but not being able to engage with him was harder than seeing him a little a home

y/n sat on the couch in zayne’s office, his arms grazing the floor as they moved back and forth.

“you’re so mean, zayne.” y/n pouted, his eyes looking up from the piece of the floor he was touching to see zayne sitting at his desk. zayne was looking at the files on his desk, sifting through papers until a certain section caught his eye, causing his eyebrows to furrow. there was no response to y/n’s statement, much to y/n’s dislike. “you see! you’re ignoring me. i finally have a break while you do and you just ignore your boyfriend of 2 years.”

with a sigh, zayne picked up his head from the papers he was processing. he changed his gaze to meet with y/n’s. “how am i mean?” he asked, a smile appearing on his lips. the new attention made a heat run to y/n’s face.

“you’re.” he started, his words failing to come out smoothly. y/n coughed to clear his throat, a smile appearing on his lips. “you’re ignoring your boyfriend when he’s busy and came to see you.” zayne stood up from his desk and walked over to the couch. he leaned down, his hand reaching out to caress y/n’s head.

“i’m sorry. i might not have patients, but i have things to read and charts to do. it doesn’t mean i don’t love you.” he whispered, zayne’s fingers caressing through the strands of y/n’s hair. “i’ll pay attention to you now, i finished my work.” y/n leaned into his touch, nodding happily.

“i know you don’t hate me. i like teasing you.” y/n said, adjusting his position on the couch so zayne could sit down comfortably, y/n resting on his chest.

“you didn’t say it back.” zayne spoke, y/n’s hands mindlessly playing with zayne’s long fingers. he caressed the scars on the knuckles while zayne held him tightly. 

“what did i not say back?” y/n asked, looking up from zayne’s hand after zayne’s arms squished him once more. zayne sighed, his fingers breaking from y/n’s grasp to squish the man’s cheeks.

“you didn’t tell me you loved me after i said it.” there was almost a pout in zayne’s voice. was he really that upset?

“i love you sooooo much, my zayne! don’t forget that.” y/n said, his head leaning back to see zayne. with a smile, zayne responded back quietly. their lips inched closer together, contact happening for only a millisecond before there was a knock at zayne’s off.

y/n jumped off the couch in fear at the noise, hitting zayne’s chin. he ran to the chair in front of zayne’s desk, zayne rubbing his face while calling the person in to enter his office. “i have the information you requested, dr. zayne.” the resident said, entering in while zayne walked to his desk. “oh, hi y/n.” y/n nervously waved back to the resident, a small smile on his face.

couldn’t y/n have zayne to himself for a moment?

✰with the increasing of wanderers in linkon city, positions in the hospital were rearranged once more, and y/n was now in the upper levels as a thoracic surgeon ✰this change also corresponded with the couple’s 4th year anniversary! ✰now that y/n was not a resident, the couple could finally be public in the hospital ✰it was the flip of a switch: one day zayne and y/n acted like normal coworkers, then the next, they were walking to lunch holding hands, comfortably chatting

the change was amazing. being with his boyfriend in public was amazing. zayne’s hand was laced with y/n’s, a soft smile on the latter’s face as zayne talked about his morning.

“the resident i was talking to you about did really good on their rounds this morning. i think they’re flourishing into a confident doctor.” zayne’s voice was steady, his gaze matched with y/n’s. “oh, and the patient who had a cardiac tamponade is recovering well. they should be discharged by the end of the week.” y/n listened to zayne, nodding his head every so often to show he was listening.

zayne’s monologue continued as they walked to the cafeteria, sitting down at a table that caught a majority of the light from the large windows. staff and patients walked around the area, some sneaking glances at the two affectionate doctors.

“i brought two different options, so take whichever you want.” y/n said, opening his lunch kit to reveal two glass containers, one with cold noodles and one with an omelet leftover from breakfast. zayne reached for the cold noodles, opening the lid. he grabbed the two spoons and chopsticks, handing one of each to y/n.

“have some, these are the ones you made. they’re really good.” zayne said, already digging in to the meal. y/n smiled, taking a spoonful of the broth before trying the noodles.

“woah, these are good. i only made them for your lunch while i was at home two days ago, so i haven’t tried them.” y/n spoke, zayne’s expression one full of happiness.

“i love you. if i didn’t tell you that today. and this is not because of the cold noodles, but it’s a little because of that.” zayne rambled, y/n pecking his cheek.

“i love you too. let’s eat quick, because then we can go outside on a walk before we have to go to work again.” y/n spoke as he pulled away, zayne nodding.

the couple ate their lunch, zayne packing up in lightning speed before reaching for y/n’s hand. the two made their way to the outdoor garden, a smile on y/n’s face as he rested his head on zayne’s shoulder. the conversation between them had gone quiet, the silence allowing them to enjoy the presence of one another. the springtime had caused flowers to bloom in the hospital grounds, zayne picking a pink buttercup from the grass and handing it y/n, repeating the process until the man had a bouquet and they both had flowers tucked behind their ears.

they could get used to this.

✰in the present, y/n and zayne are both attendings at akso hospital! ✰all of that worked had finally paid off (and all of that money) ✰the matched level of seniority allowed y/n and zayne to have a more synced schedule, which gives you more time together ✰7 years had passed since the couple had gotten together, and they couldn’t be happier ✰they held hands in between surgeries, instructed residents together, and were stuck at the hip whenever they weren’t needed for something emergent ✰they were the model couple of the hospital (so much so that the hospital wanted to use them in promotional material) ✰there are two things zayne loves in this world: y/n and his job, so having them together all the time might have just made him the happiest man alive

y/n’s couch was soft. zayne had picked it out himself, grumbling about how he “regretted the couch he bought for the own office” and he “wanted to make sure his boyfriend was comfortable”. y/n didn’t fully believe this answer.

especially paired with the fact that zayne was now always in his office.

“did you buy this couch specifically so you could bother me while i’m working?” y/n asked, staring at his boyfriend as zayne flopped onto the couch. 

“no, i bought it because it’s soft and you never-” he said, y/n cutting him off, his hand mimicking zayne’s mouth.

“get enough rest! you stay here when you’re on call instead of coming home to ME to cuddle.” y/n mocked, his lips forming the same pout zayne makes when giving the same speech. a weak laugh escaped zayne’s lips at the mockery, y/n cooing. “did i embarrass you?” he asked, getting up from his seat to lay himself over zayne’s spread out body.

“ouch. and no, i’m not embarrassed, i’m happy you know me so well.” zayne said, his nose touching y/n’s. their eyes held each other in a tight gaze for what could have been nothing more than a second before y/n felt zayne’s lips on his on, gentle moving back and forth, waiting for y/n’s to kiss him back.

y/n responded back, a conversation without words reverberating between the two.

i love you.

i love you even though i’m tired every day. 

i love you even though work is hard and scary.

i love you for you, and everything you are to me.

i love you.

there was a knock of the door of y/n’s office, y/n pulling away for a moment to respond to the person. “i’m busy! if it’s not an emergency, come back later!” zayne barely let y/n’s response ring before he laughed, connecting their lips again. they were in their rightful place. with each other, loving each other, holding each other.

nothing in the world could top it.

✰happiness couldn’t describe all the feelings that zayne felt about y/n (and vice versa) ✰y/n made him so happy, in fact, that there’s a box containing a ring with a big, glittering diamond sitting inside zayne’s desk right now

my handsome man, zayne <3 2708 words

[teddybarebones]

There is little I love more than when Obi-wan gets to date the 212th, and Anakin remains incredibly oblivious to the most obvious of things. (Partially due to the fact that he thinks his master would NEVER form attachments for another person, let alone a whole battalion)

It goes like this:

Anakin is on call with Obi-wan, it’s nearing the night cycle and Anakin can hear another voice over the comm.

“Come to bed, General.” Anakin assumes it’s Cody, and he’s just worried about Obi-wan’s sleep schedule (not that the others were waiting for him to join the pile).

Then Anakin visits the Negotiator and trains with Obi-wan, noticing how a large audience of troops have gathered to watch. He thinks nothing of it, they’re looking for a show (not that they find Obi-wan’s duelling abilities extremely attractive, especially when they don’t have to worry about his safety).

Next comes from his own men, some seem nervous around the man, he’s heard a sigh or two when Obi-wan leaves after a joint mission, where Anakin assumes they’re a bit scared of his master (not that they are longing to be loved by the man like he loves the 212th).

He’s seen Obi-wan linking arms with a number of his men as they traverse the ship, each happy to chat with their General about anything and everything, but Anakin thinks of it as nothing more than a close friendship (like the one Obi-wan shared with Bail Organa).

It is Rex who spells it out to him, Anakin had complained that none of his men ever picked flowers to place in his hair, or collected pretty rocks for him to keep, or slept next to him when he was stuck in medical. It was then that he noticed Rex giving him an odd look.

“What?” He asked, feeling judged.

“Sir, you’re married.” Rex stated, as if that had anything to do with the conversation.

“So?”

Clearing his throat, Rex continued, confused.

“Sir, you’re not the type to cheat…”

Anakin was now equally confused as the Captain.

“It’s not romantic or anything, it’s just friendly gestures.” He struggled his shoulders, not liking even the implication that he was interested in cheating on Padmé.

Rex stared at the General a moment longer, before it clicked in his head. His General is really not the most observant person.

“Sir,” he began, “The 212th is dating General Kenobi, those gestures are done out of love.” He said as clearly as possible, speaking a bit slower than necessary.

Anakin’s bafflement was obvious on his face, eyes wide, facial muscles frozen in place. Rex gave him some time to digest the information.

His master’s flirty nature was well known, but Anakin had never really imagined him in a real relationship, being the code-abiding Jedi that he is…It was…mind blowing.

“Umm,” began the General, “How is he— uh…all of them?”

Rex was already beginning to feel awkward.

“I don’t know exactly how, sir, but it works for them.” He said with finality, he knew General Skywalker loved his men, but Rex was not so sure how he’d feel about so many clones dating his master.

“Oh.” Was the only response from the man.

Seconds passed in silence, before the knight spoke up again.

“The—uh, the attraction to Obi-wan, is it—uh,” the General waved his hand around vaguely, searching for the words. “Is the attraction like a clone thing?” He asked, confused, but being careful trying to not cause offence.

Sighing internally, Rex was forced to answer.

“It is not biological, sir, but we were raised to value good tacticians, the Jedi, and competence in general. So it is really no surprise why so many of us find him attractive.”

As he said it, he realized his mistake.

Anakin whipped his head to look at the blonde, incredulous once more.

“So many of us?”

Whoops.

He was really not looking forward to explaining this chaos to Cody, but it would provide a good opening for inquiring about General Kenobi’s availability.