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lustspren · 3 days ago

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IMPURITIES EP. 2 | Kirisute Gomen

Male reader x Sakura x Male character

word count: 8.3k words

tags: anal, face fuck, spitroast, dp

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For now, the incident in New York had remained just an anecdote; it hadn't affected your relationship with the girls, either positively or negatively. It had simply happened. Much of it was due to the fact that you were still on tour, and there was no time for trivial matters like that. «The show must go on». That's what you'd told yourself to avoid thinking about it.

Because if you were honest with yourself, every time you remembered that night, you got the urge to make it happen again. But your professionalism was stronger, as was your common sense. It wasn't you who should make that decision; it was them. And if they pretended for the moment that it hadn't happened, you would play along until they wanted it.

A week had passed since then. New York was followed by Washington, DC, and from there, the next stop was Atlanta. Your arrival had been at night. A relief for your body, as you were able to go straight to your room and sleep peacefully, with half your worries already resolved since you'd gotten ahead on your work during the trip.

But in the morning, the problems started.

You didn't know if it was the Atlanta air or something, but that morning everyone seemed to be in a bad mood. Including the girls. You weren't a person who got angry easily, but by midday, you were already feeling at your limit. The venue staff were all idiots. All of them. Not one was spared. And if that weren't enough, there were countless problems at the sound check that tested you as a manager, both your patience and your aptitude.

It didn't end there. The hotel staff were also incompetent idiots, and they also caused you more than one damn unnecessary problem. The most incredible thing was the fact that they had made a mistake in the room reservation, and it turned out Kazuha's room belonged to someone else. It was a huge fucking mess. The person, understandably, was as pissed off as you were. But when you discovered it was actually the Ritz-Carlton's fault, they were forced to solve the problem for you as quickly as possible.

The next day, thank goodness, the problems were minimal. The venue staff had taken note of every technical detail you'd pointed out and resolved them. They were still rude jerks, but at least they did their jobs well. Everything went wonderfully during the concert: impeccable sound, impeccable stage, impeccable logistics, and impeccable performances.

"Good job, yeoreobun!" you said aloud as the backup dancers and the girls left the stage after the encore, handing out bottles of cold water from a small cooler.

Everyone accepted the bottles and headed backstage after removing their in-ear microphones and the heaviest parts of their outfits. You stayed behind for a moment, talking with the production technicians and the setup staff to get everything settled before leaving the area and going backstage with the girls.

There was still a good while until your departure, since you had to wait for the entire dismantling process to be completed and for the girls to change and eat their respective snacks for that evening, as you always did after each concert. You had gone off to discuss some pending matters with the staff, and when it was getting close to time to leave, you returned to the girls.

"Hey, it's time gi..." You noticed something was off as you entered. One, two, three, four... "Uhm... where the hell is Kura?"

They looked at each other, and the common expression was one of ignorance. Of course, knowing them, you couldn't trust them. They already had a history of covering for each other. But it's likely that wasn't the case, and that she was just in the bathroom or something.

"Get your things together. I'll go get her."

The venue was a little bigger than you'd have liked for a search. It was a facility designed for theater productions, so the backstage area had multiple dressing rooms of different sizes at different heights, with the ones on the second floor being the smallest. Downstairs, there was no one, not even in the bathrooms. You hoped that with so many people circulating, someone had seen her, but apparently Sakura had inherited ancient techniques from her ninja ancestors and had used them to vanish. It was too strange, and you were panicking a little. Not too much. Just a little.

Upstairs, things weren't much different. The person you were asking was the person who had never seen a 5'11" Japanese girl, blonde, beautiful, and with a body to die for. And you no longer felt panic, but despair. Everything was empty. You only had one dressing room left, and you were already feeling like throwing in the towel and calling HYBE to get a scolding.

Desperate, you placed your hand on the doorknob and opened it. It was pitch black inside; the hallway light wasn't shining in due to the arrangement of the lamps. You squinted—purely out of instinct, not because it would make a difference—and felt along the right wall for a light switch. Nothing there, so you moved to the other one. This time you had better luck. When you flipped the switch, however, you instantly regretted it.

"Oh my fucking god," you sighed.

Sakura, who had previously been hiding very still in the darkness, was pressing her hands against the right wall, her plaid shirt on the floor and her baggy jeans halfway down. Adam, one of the backup dancers for the tour, was standing behind her with his hands on her tiny waist. The compromising position they were in automatically made your blood pressure rise.

"Adam, get lost," you ordered, pointing your thumb outward. "I know the idea wasn't yours."

Adam gave Sakura a nervous glance and let go of her to walk past you and out of the dressing room.

"Are you crazy or something?" you asked as passive-aggressively as you could, while Kura pulled up her pants and grabbed her shirt from the floor. "We're in a fucking public place. Have you lost your fucking mind?"

Kura snorted and rolled her eyes.

"It was just going to be a quickie!" Kura protested with a frown, walking toward you. "No need to make a big deal out of it."

You chuckled in disbelief.

"No?" You raised your eyebrows. "What do you think would have happened if someone other than me caught you? Like, I don't know, someone on the cleaning staff. Word will spread like a freshly lit fuse. Let alone if someone on the damn staff found out!"

"I know!" She snapped, palms down. "Have you ever thought about how I've felt this whole week? With so much fucking shit going on at once. I know my body! I know I need it because I'm a human being, and I need that kind of thing!"

"Kura, it's risky!" You unintentionally raised your voice a little. The stress was taking its toll on you.

"It's the only way!" Kura raised her voice back.

"And against the damn rules!"

Kura couldn't help but laugh as if you'd told a joke. You frowned in confusion as she raised her eyebrows at you.

"Against the rules? You can't be serious."

"I'm so damn serious, Sakura."

"I don't remember hearing you talking about rules last week, manager-nim," Kura took a step toward you, standing two feet away. "When you fucked Yunjin and Chaewonie. Or did you forget my room was next to yours?"

Shit. No, you hadn't forgotten. In fact, you'd been mulling over the matter all week. Anxious about the possibility that she'd heard absolutely everything. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy exhale.

"For God's sake, tell me Eunchae didn't hear anything," you said before opening your eyes again.

"She didn't; she went to her room early. But I did hear you," Kura took another small step closer to you. Now close enough to be able to see her eyes in detail. "Please forget your position and fuck me like I'm all yours," she mimicked Chaewon, with the same moans in between. Then she laughed.

Your cheeks grew hot.

"Sakura, that was a special case," you said, trying to pull your feet out of the mud. "They broke the rules first. They offered me to keep them out of trouble in exchange for..."

"Fucking them?" Kura finished the sentence for you. "You agreed. You could have easily said no, right?"

"Well..."

Kura placed a hand over your mouth and stared at you with those big, pretty eyes.

"You have no excuse," she said, then took her hand away from your mouth. "You deliberately decided to do it. It's your fault."

"Still, it doesn't make it right," you sighed. "I don't want what just happened to happen again, because next time it won't be someone as lenient as me who catches you."

Kura was silent for a moment, as if calculating her response.

"Well, I'm sorry to say, manager-nim, I might keep doing it," she said, and looked you up and down. "Unless, of course, you help me yourself."

For God's sake, not again.

"No fucking way," you shook your head and took a step back. "I won't fall for the same game twice."

Kura closed the distance again and grabbed you by the back of your neck.

"Would you rather be caught by someone I can't bribe?" she asked, tossing both strands of hair behind her shoulders and puffing out her chest so you could notice her beautiful tits beneath her white top. "Or would you rather be the one in charge of satisfying this tight little body?"

Your eyes dropped to her tits, beautiful beneath that tight top, and then to her toned abdomen, with two small moles next to her belly button. You were going fucking crazy.

"Kura..."

"Go ahead, touch."

Kura took your hand and placed it on her tummy. Still trying to resist the temptation, you didn't move your hand, just kept your fingers still as she had you rub her abdomen. Then she had you slowly raise your hand to place it on her right breast.

"Squeeze," Kura murmured.

"Sakura..." you repeated, wanting her to see reason. But from the convinced look in her eyes, you guessed it was too late.

"Squeeze, manager-nim," she insisted.

Against your own better judgment, you did so. But you didn't regret it. Her breast felt soft beneath your fingers, and with the first squeeze, you immediately gave it a second, slightly harder one. Kura's lips curved into a slight smile, and she lowered her own hand to the bulge in your pants to give it a gentle squeeze.

"Do you like it?" Kura asked, rubbing your cock up and down with the palm of her hand. "Well, if you want to have me all to yourself... you'll have to compete with Adam to see if you can fuck me better than him."

"You're in no position to set conditions, Miyawaki," you said, and released her breast. "I could just turn around, walk away, and pretend this didn't happen."

"You could, but you're not going to," Kura countered. "You don't want to. Besides, look how hard you are."

Kura removed her hand so you could see. Your bulge was prominent and hard, easy to notice since you were wearing sweatpants that day.

"Ah fuck," you groaned, annoyed. Sakura, isn't there a better way to solve this?"

"You want to nip this problem in the bud and prevent it from happening again, don't you?"

You pursed your lips, huffed, and stared up at the ceiling. For God's sake, what had you done to deserve such an insolent group of girls? It was as if they were competing to see who could test your patience the best and fastest.

"Your room or mine?"

Kura smiled.

"Mine. I'll tell the girls I'll be sleeping so no one comes near."

"You know Zuha's room is two rooms away, right?"

"That girl will be playing games or listening to music or something. She's the one you least need to worry about."

"Whatever. Let's get out of here. They're waiting for us."

You turned around, turned off the dressing room light, and left with Kura.

The excuse Kura had given the other girls—which you confirmed they indeed knew nothing about her escapade with Adam—was that she got lost in her search for a bathroom. You weren't sure how well the lie had gone down, but no one asked too many questions about it since the venue was large enough to be believable.

You arrived back at the hotel around 10 p.m.

"Girls, please make sure you get enough sleep," you said as you entered the lobby. "The flight to Dallas is early in the morning, and I don't want to see any bags under your eyes. The good thing is that in Dallas you'll have two days off."

The girls nodded without much protest, happy to sleep early since they were visibly exhausted. They went straight up to their rooms, while you stayed behind helping the staff unload things from the vans. From there, you went up as well and took a quick shower before heading to Kura's room.

Outside, right in front of her door, you took a moment to think carefully about what you were going to do. You had allowed yourself to get carried away with Yunjin and Chaewon because specific circumstances had arisen and it was practically impossible for you to refuse the seduction of those two vipers, but now you had time to think about it.

But as you did, you couldn't stop thinking about how good Kura's breast felt under your hand, and how firm and tight her tummy was.

Fuck it. You only live once. And you were already horny.

You knocked on the door twice.

"Come in!" Kura said after a few seconds.

You opened the door, and upon entering, your mouth immediately watered. On the couch directly across from the door and by the window, Kura was lying on her side, in nothing but a pretty cream-colored bra and panty lace set. Every corner of her body was insane: wide hips, tiny waist, beautiful legs, toned tummy, and even nicer tits.

"Hello, manager-nim," Kura said in a seductive tone, leaning on her elbow with her cheek resting on her hand. "Come here. Adam should arrive any moment."

Kura sat up and waited for you to sit next to her before straddling your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck, and crashing her lips against yours, not even giving you time to say or do anything.

As your lips became entangled in a fiery exchange of saliva that didn't cause you the slightest remorse, you left your hands on her small waist and gripped your fingers there. Kura ground her hips against you, rubbing herself against your growing bulge. Her right hand moved up to the nape of your neck and stroked the hair there, then slid both hands to your shoulders. Your cock hardened beneath her, and Kura placed a hand on your chest, lowering it and inserting it inside your sweatpants and boxers, firmly grasping your cock between her fingers to rub it.

"Hmm, you're already throbbing for me, manager-nim," Kura moaned against your lips. "I'm going to undress you. Can I undress you?"

"At this point, do whatever you want, Miyawaki," you replied.

Kura slipped her hand from inside your pants and used both hands to pull your hoodie over your head and off. She then climbed off your lap as you took off your shoes, and knelt on the floor between your knees to remove both your sweatpants and boxers. Her round eyes shone like two beautiful street lights in winter as she freed your cock.

"Oh wow," Kura gasped, and planted her mouth on the back of your cock to kiss and lick all the way to the tip. "You're bigger than you look, manager-nim."

"And you're sluttier," you countered.

Kura smiled, wrapped two fingers around the base of your cock, and swirled her tongue around the tip a few times while looking into your eyes.

"You're right about that," she said. "I may be small and nerdy, but I love a good cock in my mouth and in my pussy. Especially in my pussy."

With that, Kura took you into her mouth, moaning as she took the first few inches between her lips until she reached your midsection. Then she began pumping her head at a slightly rapid pace, pulling you out of her mouth every few seconds to lick and kiss around your tip. As the seconds passed, she sped up, until she was slurping saliva from your shaft.

"Mmm, you're delicious," Kura gasped, moving her hand down your cock and spreading her saliva over it. "Would you help me with my underwear, manager-nim?"

She didn't need to say much more before you stood up, took her hands, and helped her stand up. You wrapped an arm around her waist and laid her down on the bed. You positioned yourself on top of her and intertwined her hands with yours, planting kisses on her neck. From there, you moved wet kisses down her collarbone, and when you reached her breasts, you slid your hands under her back to unclasp her bra and free her very, very pretty breasts.

Without her prompting, you took one of them to your mouth. Kura gasped and placed both hands on your head. She twisted strands of your hair around her fingers, gently tugging as you swirled your tongue around her nipple. Moving to her other breast, you took as much of it into your mouth as you could and sucked on it, licking her hard nipple with the tip of your tongue. Kura, aroused, shifted subtly beneath you, arching her back and grinding against your body.

When you left a trail of saliva on each breast, you allowed yourself to move down to her tummy. Her tight, attractive, firm tummy. Kura moaned when you pressed your lips there and showered it with kisses you were sure you enjoyed more than her. You held her by the waist, moving your kisses down to her lower abdomen and moving closer to where the skin parted with the fabric of her panties, which you grabbed by the hem and slowly pulled down her legs.

"Are you going to eat my pussy, manager-nim?" Kura asked, a finger on her lower lip. "Adam isn't here yet. This is your perfect opportunity to get a little advantage."

"Say no more then."

You took Kura's legs behind her knees and spread them side to side. In front of your face, her beautiful pussy was glistening with wetness. It looked like a real delight, and you didn't hesitate for a second to plant your mouth there and taste it.

The sweet moan Kura emitted when you began licking and kissing between her soft folds sweetened your hearing. Her pussy was delicious. Instantly addictive. You breathed deeply, letting your hunger for her take over so that she would love every second you spent eating her pussy. Within seconds, the room was filled with moans from the petite Japanese girl, who had one hand stroking your hair and the other on her own breast.

"Fuck, you're incredible, manager-nim," Kura moaned, squirming her hips as you gave her clit quick licks.

Your only response was to keep going, looking up every few seconds to watch as you made her melt with pleasure. Kura gave you a harder tug, and she arched her back as you pressed her thighs back and attacked the sensitive spots her moans indicated.

"Right there," Kura sighed, her thigh muscles tensing beneath your fingers. "Oh yes, yes!"

Kura tightened her fingers in your hair and pressed you even harder against her pussy, practically suffocating you against it. Seconds ticked by, and she began to tremble. Until with a loud moan, Kura closed her thighs on either side of your head, arched her back, and came in a series of spasms that gave you an immense satisfaction.

And just then, three knocks were heard at the door.

Kura's thighs moved away from your head, allowing you to lift it. Kura turned sideways to face the door.

"Adam?" Kura asked aloud.

"Who else could it be at this hour?" Adam replied from the other side of the door.

"Come in!"

When Adam walked in and saw the situation you were in, his face turned pale. He quickly closed the door and looked down, embarrassed not by seeing Kura naked, but by seeing you naked. You also had a sneaky suspicion he had no idea you were going to be there at that moment after catching them both early.

"Not a single fucking word of this to anyone, or I swear I'll find out," you told Adam in a perfect English that you knew he understood. "And act like a normal guy, for God's sake. I won't make fun of you if you have a micro-dick."

Adam nodded silently and finally looked up at Kura.

"You're late," Kura said, kneeling on the bed to reach the edge and pull Adam up by his shirt. "Someone already got a little ahead of you."

Kura kissed him before he could excuse himself. Adam didn't protest and wrapped his arms around her. You stayed on the sidelines for a moment, lying on your side and staring only at her back and ass. You understood that the one in charge there wasn't you, but her. So you were going to limit yourself to acting only when she ordered it, directly or indirectly.

Adam's clothes were on the floor in mere seconds. Kura rubbed his cock until it was hard, lowering her lips to his neck and then his chest. She slowly moved her knees back, bending so she could reach his lower torso until she was resting on her hands, her ass raised and her knees apart.

When Kura took Adam's cock in her mouth and shook her ass, knowing you were watching, you knew it was time to get back into the action.

You knelt behind her and placed your hands on her buttocks, squeezing them both. Then you lowered your right hand between them and rubbed her pussy slowly before inserting a finger. Kura moaned with Adam's cock in her mouth. After a few pumps, you inserted a second finger, both with the tips facing down to stimulate her pussy walls as you moved your wrist.

Kura picked up the pace, pumping her lips against Adam's cock with her hands gripping his thighs. He just kept panting, one hand on Kura's head and the other behind his back. The guy wasn't paying you the slightest bit of attention, which you certainly appreciated. The last thing you wanted was to feel uncomfortable because he couldn't just ignore you being there.

Your cock throbbed against Kura's left buttock, aching from how much you needed relief for yourself. So after a few quick pumps with your fingers, you pulled them out and positioned yourself to replace them with your cock, slowly inserting it into her extremely tight pussy. Kura stifled a moan around Adam's cock and pulled it out of her mouth to look at you over her shoulder.

"How does my pussy feel, manager-nim?" Kura asked with a moan, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes as you took every inch inside her.

"Fucking unreal," you gasped, once you were all the way inside her pussy.

Unreal was definitely the best word to describe it. It was the second time in a week that you'd been inside one of the girls you managed, and you didn't know how to feel about it. All you knew was that those three pussies felt like heaven, and their naked bodies were beautiful sculptures that invited you to admire them all night.

And fuck them all night.

With your hands on her tiny waist, you began to move slowly, watching your cock go in and out of her grippy pussy. Kura brought Adam's cock back to her mouth, now moaning around it with each gradually faster pump, growing frantic as you went harder.

"Adam, fuck my mouth," Kura asked after a gasp, jerking him off as you moved with hard thrusts.

Adam gathered Kura's hair behind her head and held it in a ponytail with his left hand. A moment later, he began pumping his hips, close to the rhythm you were setting yourself. Kura couldn't take it all in her mouth, so she was soon gagging on his cock. Despite that, Kura seemed to be enjoying every second, her head still and her pussy clenching around your cock.

Your grip on Kura's waist tightened, and your jaw tensed as you doubled your efforts. A few seconds later, her buttocks became your focal points; you squeezed both of them as you pounded her pussy as hard as you could. Kura moaned again and again, her saliva spilling down her chin and onto the sheets as Adam added fuel to the fire.

Adam now moved to grip Kura's ponytail with both hands, both very close to her scalp, thus pulling harder. On your side, you gave Kura a light spank on her left buttock, making her grunt with pleasure. Her pussy suffocated your cock exquisitely, signaling that she was close to cumming. It finally happened when, after a few more pumps and spanks, Kura squealed with Adam's cock in her mouth and thrust her hips back, her body writhing in spasms.

Kura placed a hand on Adam's lower abdomen and made him stop once her orgasm went away.

"Switch roles," she said, panting. "And put in the effort. I'm testing you with every single thing you do."

Just what you needed. Years of studying and working hard to get to where you were, only for more fucking tests. Great.

Adam pulled out of Kura's mouth, and you pulled out of her pussy. Kura then turned around and lay on her back, her head hanging off the edge of the bed. You climbed off and knelt in front of Kura's face. Meanwhile, Adam climbed onto the bed and knelt between Kura's open legs. He entered her pussy, and you entered her mouth.

Kura took as much of your cock as she could, which was roughly a few inches past the middle of your shaft. You placed your right hand on her pretty neck, slowly beginning to fuck her mouth. Adam had her held behind her knees, both pressed against her body. He wasn't as gentle as you; he was going just as hard as he had been a few seconds ago, even though Kura must still be sensitive.

A little less than a minute passed when you decided to pump as the situation demanded, causing Kura to choke on your cock. Her lips were as closed as possible around your cock, but when she felt overwhelmed, she finally opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, allowing you to use her however you wanted.

Kura, being fucked hard by Adam, tried to moan around your cock, but only gagging sounds came from her mouth. Her saliva pooled inside, soon spilling out and dripping onto her cheeks. Then you increased your speed, fucking Kura's mouth with your clenched teeth and your hands gripping her tits.

Soon, everything reached a breaking point when Kura gripped the sides of your thighs and dug her nails into them as she came again. As Adam slowed down, Kura slapped your thigh a few times, and you pulled out of her mouth. She took a sharp intake of air.

"You're not allowed to cum inside me until I say so," she said, heavily gasping. "Go on, but do it outside."

When you came back inside her mouth, Kura squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt not to cough as you gagged her with your cock. Adam resumed his thrusts, now bent forward with his fists resting on the mattress. Focused on your own pleasure, you and he fucked both holes vigorously. You were the first to feel the tingling, and you immediately pulled out of her saliva-dripping mouth to stand up and masturbate over her tits.

When you came and your semen began to fall in long strips onto Kura's tits, Adam also pulled out of Kura to stroke his cock, aiming for the Japanese woman's tight abdomen. It took seconds for Kura to become a perfect canvas for the two of you, covered in cum on both areas of her body.

The scene seemed like the perfect ending to a night for many. You might even say it was dream-like. But you knew Kura wasn't satisfied with that, and that the fun had just begun. You confirmed it when she sat up, looked at her cum-covered areas, and looked at you as if nothing had happened.

"Get some toilet paper, manager-nim," Kura ordered, pointing. "I'm not done with you two yet."

Clearly.

In a show of unconditional obedience, you immediately turned around and went to the bathroom to grab the toilet paper roll, gather some around your hand, and throw it to Adam. A minute later, Kura's previously stained body was spotless again after a little cleaning. Just in case, you left the toilet paper roll on the nightstand to the right of the bed.

Anticipating Kura's next move, you and Adam both knelt on either side of her. Kura sat back on her heels and brought both hands to your sides to cup your balls and play with them, gently squeezing and massaging them. She went first to your side and carefully brought your limp cock to her mouth, sucking it slowly with a perfect use of her tongue that made you shudder. Then, while jerking you off with her hand, she moved to Adam's cock to repeat the process.

"Sorry if you're still a little sensitive," Kura lamented after removing Adam's cock from her mouth. "But I need these cocks hard."

Masturbating you both, Kura gently pulled you together and brought your cocks as close together as possible without touching, using her tongue to swirl around your tips while massaging your balls. After a few seconds, she took you into her mouth again. Just a little while each. Until after a few delicate sucks, both cocks were covered in a thin layer of saliva and throbbing.

"Manager-nim, lie on your back," Kura said, then looked at Adam. "You'll sit over there until I say so. You can touch yourself if you want. But don't you dare cum, or I'll send you back to your room with your balls tied with nylon."

Damn. That was messed up.

Adam got out of bed and sat right on the middle seat of the couch, while you lay down with your head resting on the pillow on the right side of the bed. Kura crawled on top of you, her knees on either side of your torso, and kissed you, her tits pressed against your chest. You wrapped your arms around her small frame, one around her waist and the other across her back, feeling her slightly sweaty skin beneath your fingers. Not long after, Kura grabbed your cock and impaled herself on it with a muffled moan against your lips.

Kura began to move her hips in her own rhythm: slow, deep, twisting her hips every time she went down. It felt incredible for you, but it must have felt even better for her. Her hands cradled your face as she kissed you, and you felt her breathing become heavier against yours. You prowled her body with your hands, running them up and down the sides of her torso until you moved down to her ass and squeezed it. Only then did Kura decide to go a little faster.

The need to moan louder made Kura break the kiss and hold onto your shoulders, moving her face a few inches away from yours so she could look into your eyes. Her pretty face was blushing again. She then straightened her back slightly, lowering her hands to your chest to bounce her ass against your cock. It was a skillful control of her buttocks that you certainly didn't expect from her.

"My god, since when can you move like that?" you gasped, moving your hands to her waist. Then you moved one to her right breast.

"I may not be an excellent dancer, but I know how to use my body to my advantage," Kura replied, and moved a hand up your collarbone until you brought two fingers inside her mouth. You sucked on them without hesitation, making her lips curl into a small, satisfied smile.

With her fingers still inside your mouth, Kura planted her feet on the bed and began bouncing on your cock, hard and fast to make it enjoyable for both of you. You noticed your cock making her tight belly bulge, which drove you wild. Kura bounced faster and faster, pumping her fingers in and out of your mouth until she pulled them out, grabbed your chin, and with a hard push down, she came.

Kura collapsed against you and kissed you again, muffling her moans against your lips as she slowly moved her hips up and down. Her tight pussy, contracting around your cock, made you moan as well, in the middle of the kiss. You squeezed each of her buttocks hard, helping her move until her orgasm passed and she climbed off of you.

"Adam, come here. Manager-nim, you know where to go."

Unfortunately, you did.

Reluctantly, you stood up as Adam returned to the bed. You went to sit on the right side of the couch, watching as Adam lay on his back in the center of the bed, stacking two pillows under his head. Kura straddled him, and followed the same process as with you before impaling herself on his cock.

Before Kura came while riding you, you already felt like you weren't going to last much longer, so you decided not to play with yourself too much so you wouldn't return to your room with your balls tied with nylon, just enough to stay hard while you watched the scene unfolding a few feet away from you.

Kura didn't start slowly like she did with you, now considerably hornier than she had been a few minutes ago when she was just refueling her engine. She was going at a slightly faster pace from the start, her hands on Adam's collarbone and her face buried in his neck, peppering it with kisses and hickeys. Adam had his hands around her waist, but didn't seem about to move them anytime soon. He, much to your chagrin, was as still as a mannequin.

But that was to your advantage. If Kura found him boring, you'd end up winning the competition.

Wait a minute, what the hell were you thinking? Were you really that eager to win the pseudo-competition Kura was setting up for herself? You were supposed to be more self-conscious about it; if you won, it would mean that woman would seek you out week after week for sex. That might have seemed ideal, but it wasn't all roses. Yunjin and Chaewon were also lurking hungrily. For now, you were safe, but as soon as you had some free time without worries, you were sure those two would hunt you down like an owl hunts a rabbit in the middle of the night.

And you were thinking of putting another predator on your neck? Had you gone fucking crazy?

No. The truth was, no matter how you tried to convince yourself—with convincing and more than logical arguments—that this was a terrible idea, you were letting your heart win over your brain, because it was impossible to resist those women. No matter how you looked at it. They were always going to win.

A louder-than-usual moan brought you out of your reverie. Refocusing, you saw Kura squatting on Adam's cock. Adam had his hands under Kura's thighs, somehow encouraging her to bounce harder. That was absurd. He thought he could twist the tables to try and gain some control, but Kura was very confident in what she was doing, making sure her body language made that clear without her having to say anything.

The big fumble came, in your opinion, when Kura brought her fingers to Adam's mouth, hoping he would suck them like you. But Adam hesitated and hesitated, until Kura gave up and grabbed him by the neck. She didn't say a word, and she bounced hard just the way Adam wanted her to. They both moaned in unison, and Kura was the first to cum.

You expected her to get off Adam once she stopped shaking, but she continued bouncing on his cock.

"Let me know when you're about to cum," you heard Kura mutter.

She kept bouncing, aiming to get Adam off as soon as possible. Adam gestured not long after, giving Kura the signal. Then, she quickly got off him and then off the bed. Adam frowned in confusion.

"H-huh?" Adam propped himself up onto his elbows, watching Kura walk around the bed to join you on the couch and sit on your right.

"Masturbate and cum on your own," Kura said, not looking at him, her tone of disdain implicit. "Consider it your punishment."

"Punishment for what?!" Adam demanded to know, watching Kura press herself against the side of your body, one thigh draped over yours.

"I don't know, you tell me," Kura replied, her eyes fixed on you, spitting into her hand as she brought it to your cock and stroked it quickly. You wrapped your arm around her body and grabbed her by the waist to hold her closer to you.

"Ugh, damn!"

Adam had no choice but to take care of himself, closing his eyes so he could focus again.

Kura had her full attention on you, her eyes carefully observing every tiny twist in your movements as she moved her wrist at full speed, making you tense your glutes and curl your toes. Her hand slid easily over your sloppy shaft, with practically no friction. You turned your head to look at her, and all it took was the sight of her biting her lip to make you explode.

You bucked your hips and moaned as Kura jerked you through your orgasm. Jets of cum shot out, staining both your abdomen and her hand. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear Adam moaning from the bed, probably having cummed too.

Kura kept moving her hand, amused by your squirming. She paused for a moment, only to resume keep moving it a second later. Seeing you squirming again, she let go of your cock with a giggle and settled back on the couch to bend down and clean you with her tongue herself, under the jealous gaze of Adam, who had also made a mess of himself but was forced to clean you with toilet paper instead of the tongue of a sexy Japanese woman.

After cleaning you, Kura took you into her mouth and finished the job, giving you slow, gentle sucks to leave your cock gleaming again.

Kura sat back on her heels and leaned closer to your ear.

"You're ahead by a landslide," she whispered. "All that's missing is a mere formality to cap it off. So don't screw up."

"Having a blast, huh?" you whispered back. "I've lost count of how many times you've cum."

"It's been a while since I've had this much fun, yeah. And that's your fault. So just accept the consequences."

"My fault? I'm just following orders. If it were up to me, I'd leave you all stranded in the rain," you joked.

Kura raised her eyebrows and let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Hey! What nonsense are you talking about?!" Kura nudged you in the shoulder, making you laugh. "Do you want me to kill you?"

"You're going to kill me from stress one of these days. No need."

Kura rolled her eyes, shook her head, and stood up to face Adam, arms akimbo, her weight on her right knee.

"You can continue, right?" Kura asked. "I hope you learned your lesson."

"Sakura, I still don't know what I did to deserve punishment," he replied, sitting with his back against the headboard. "And yes. I can continue."

"Great, because I have one last little surprise for you," Kura pointed to her backpack, leaning against the side of the bed. "Open the front pocket and take out what's inside."

Adam leaned down and opened the pocket. From it, he took out a small, unopened bottle of lubricant. The shape of the bottle made it look like a perfume.

"Oh wow," Adam raised his eyebrows, reading the label on the bottle. "Uberlube silicone-based lube…" he looked at Kura. "Very naughty of you."

"Give me that."

Kura took the bottle from Adam's hands and moved her legs apart so she could lie on her back on the bed. She spread her legs, her pussy facing you, and beckoned you with her finger. You did so, kneeling to her left. Adam did the same on the opposite side.

"You're going to finger me. Both of you. At the same time," Kura said, removing the cap from the bottle and pressing the spray bottle against her palm several times until it was full of lube. No one could tell you that shit didn't look like a bottle of perfume. "You can do that, right? Or do your fingers need a break too?" She then brought the lube-filled hand to her pussy, sliding her palm down to her butthole and back up.

"No, Miyawaki, our fingers don't need a break," you retorted, taking the bottle from her.

"Great. You'll take my ass," Kura told you, then looked at Adam. "And you'll take my pussy. Be good boys, and I'll reward you before we move on to the final act."

With the bottle of lube in your hand, you grabbed Kura's leg and hooked it behind her knee to the left side of your body. Then you filled your fingers with lube, tossed the bottle to Adam, and brought them to her butthole to play with it superficially, tracing the outline and rubbing it up and down. Adam did the same with his fingers, and unlike you, he put them directly inside Kura's pussy after a few brief rubs.

Kura moaned as the first two fingers entered her, followed by one more. You slowly inserted your middle finger into her tight butthole, moving it around to stretch the hole a little before adding your ring finger. Kura held your arm with her hand, her face slowly twisting in pleasure as both pairs of fingers began to pump in and out of her.

"Oh yeah, I can already begin to imagine how that's going to feel," Kura moaned, holding you both with your trembling legs wide open.

Adam finally did something good for his own neck and poured more lube between Kura's legs, making it easier for both of you. Soon the room was filled with the wet sound of fingers going in and out of those two wet holes at full speed. Kura began to squeal like she hadn't all night, overwhelmed by the new sensation.

"Yes yes yes! Keep going, don't stop!" Kura whimpered, arching her back. When seconds later she came between violent spasms, she looked up at you with teary eyes. "MORE!"

"Jesus, girl. Are you made of steel or what?" you asked, impressed by her durability.

"I haven't had orgasms this good in YEARS, so just shut up and keep going!" Kura demanded, digging her nails into your elbow.

More scared to death than anything else, you and Adam continued pumping your wrists nonstop until Kura came again, now with a few tears running down her cheeks and her whole body shaking.

"God... god..." Kura gasped, her chest rapidly rising and falling. "Both of you, stand at the edge of the bed."

Your fingers left Kura's body, and you stood where Kura indicated. The Japanese woman then turned toward you and leaned on her elbows, extending her feet toward each cock, rubbing them up and down. You also didn't find the skill she had with her feet surprising. But damn, she did an incredible job getting you hard in a matter of seconds, caressing your balls and tips until you were throbbing.

"Reward earned," Kura said. "Now come here and use both of my holes."

Adam was quick to move to the bed with her, lying on his back and pulling her on top of him. Kura positioned herself on top of him, her knees at either side of his waist, just as Adam grabbed his cock and guided it into her pussy. You climbed onto the bed as well, kneeling over Adam's left thigh so you could get a good angle behind Kura and, after lubing up your cock, press the tip against Kura's other hole. Her ass yielded relatively easily, swallowing inch by inch of your shaft until it was completely filled.

"Oh my god," Kura lay very still, her eyes closed, both cocks buried to their full length inside her. "Don't move. It feels... oh fuck. Use me. Fuck me hard."

You and Adam got to work, both of you pumping slowly at first. Adam had her by the waist, his fingers firmly pressed there, and you had your hands on both of Kura's ass cheeks, spreading them to the sides to watch on full display as your cock slid in and out in a deliciously hypnotic way from that ass, which was even tighter than her pussy. Kura went completely wild, not knowing where to hold on. Her moans weren't that loud, but you knew it was only a matter of time before she started making a scene. No sooner said than done, Kura began to scream as you and Adam began thrusting faster and harder, instinctively covering her mouth so as not to alarm whoever passed by outside the room.

Her beautiful platinum-blonde hair soon acted as your grip point. You pulled it into a messy high ponytail, pulling her neck back to slam your pelvis against her ass. Adam wasn't far behind and wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly and pumping his hips as hard as they could in that position.

"So good, oh my god!!" Kura groaned, clawing at Adam's chest. "Mmmgh!!"

Kura came in a violent maelstrom of spasms that made every part of her slim, toned body tense. More tears fell down her cheeks, more whimpers that evoked pure pleasure. She clung to Adam's shoulders, her hips twitching as you pumped considerably slower.

"Sw... switch holes," Kura managed to say in a small voice. "Manager-nim, stand up and carry me."

You pulled out of Kura's ass and helped her off of Adam, taking her hand as she climbed off the bed with you. Kura wrapped her arms around your neck and jumped up so you carried her in the air, her legs wrapped around your torso. Adam got off the bed and stood behind her, and then he entered her ass and you entered her pussy.

Kura's head fell back and her eyes rolled back as she began to be fucked in both holes again. Her fingers clutched at your hair, and you held her behind her knees as you slammed her pussy harder and harder. A few seconds later, with Adam now also mercilessly drilling her ass, Kura dropped back to rest her back against Adam's chest, her left hand clamped around your neck and her right hand on Adam's head. She came in record time, making it difficult for you to keep her still in the air.

"Cum inside me!" Kura whimpered in the midst of her orgasm. "Fill every corner of my tight holes, please, please!"

Those magic words were like music to your ears, because you'd been longing to do so for quite some time now.

Adam was the first, cumming inside her with a primal growl that made him sound like an animal. Kura's eyelids fluttered as she felt the first load inside her, and her eyes rolled back when, a few seconds later, you exploded inside her pussy with a loud moan.

"Oh yes..." Kura sighed, her head resting on Adam's shoulder, feeling you shoot your entire load into her sweltering pussy, which throbbed around your cock. "I feel so full... so good."

You and Adam pulled out of her pussy seconds later. Both of your thick loads fell to the floor, dripping steadily until they ended up in small pools on the carpeted floor.

Kura, still panting, raised her head to look at you and then at Adam.

"I... I need to sleep. Clean me up and leave me in bed," she said, her hair messy and sticking to her face with sweat.

You stepped back and led her to the bed. Adam and you grabbed toilet paper and cleaned up your respective messes. When Kura was clean and under her blanket, you both got dressed, ready to go. Adam left first after saying goodnight, but before you could, Kura grabbed your wrist and made you lean in to whisper something in your ear.

"Needless to say, you won, manager-nim" she said. "But you better get ready, because you just earned yourself a very thirsty Yokai. God bless you."

#lesserafim smut #sakura smut #izone smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #x male reader smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #x male reader

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kesujo · 19 hours ago

Text

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 limbs, 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?”

#kpop smut #smut #snsd #snsd smut #taeyeon #kim taeyeon #taeyeon smut #creamp1e #mommy k!nk #mommy Taeyeon #sugar mommy Taeyeon #this might be the fastest I've ever written almost 13k words holy shit #Taeyeon making me go feral for no reason

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figthoughts · 19 hours ago

Text

⟢ — thinking about DEAN needing to pull the impala over on the side of the road because you just can’t keep your hands to yourself .ᐟ

warnings: smut, semi–public car sex, oral (m. receiving), praise, est. relationship (softdom!bf!dean x gf!reader) 18+

𓂃ㅤ . ⟡ ㅤׄㅤ

“i said quit it,” dean muttered and switched off the impala’s engine, the rumbling sound dying out into a smooth silence. he turned to you, and a challenging grin spread across his face, “you just can’t control yourself, can you?”

a hearty laugh bubbled up your throat as he grabbed your wrist, his warm hand pulling it away from the now prominent bulge in his jeans, which strained against the dark denim. “come on, you just look so good today, dean. i can’t help it,” you said through your chuckles.

dean scoffed at your words, pulling you closer. “oh, yeah? you just can't help it? you’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

dean pinned your wrist to your chest, keeping your wandering hand hostage as he dove in and kissed you. you gasped, and dean seized the opportunity, slipping his tongue between your parted lips to tangle with yours, teasing and desperate as he dominated your mouth. his movements were demanding, and you felt the need in his kiss. the frustration.

he moaned wantonly, breaking the kiss and pulling back to look at you. his green irises had shrunk from his blown-out pupils, dilating with desire. he murmured quietly as his eyes searched yours, “in the backseat. now, baby.”

his voice was low, but biting with an eagerness that made your thighs clench. it took the pair of you less than ten seconds to reach the backseat, fervently finding each other’s lips again with ease. your teeth clashed and your tongues fought, the kiss eager and full of need, but not that either of you cared. he managed to pull you on top of him, leaving his hands on your hips, guiding you to grind down onto him. it was desperate and messy, from the need that coursed through both of your bodies, brought on by your incessant teasing and playing.

dean groaned at the feeling of you pressing against the line of his hardened cock, the rough denim rubbing against his angry red tip. fuck, you’d been such a tease. dean was right; you just couldn’t control yourself—your hands travelling up his thigh while he drove, moving in on his dick and palming it through his jeans, all while your eyes not once leaving the road the entire time you played with him, and that wicked smirk plastered on your face. you were evil.

“take this off,” he muttered against your lips, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. you slipped it off, no questions asked, as dean took his flannel and shirt off too, discarding the fabric on the floor of the car. he pressed hot open-mouthed kisses to your breasts through your bra as he undid your jeans and pulled them down. you lifted yourself up, helping him pull away the denim.

“yeah, that’s it,” dean grinned and slid his fingers over your clothed pussy as you settled back down into his lap, feeling the warmth of his skin press against you. “just what i thought. no wonder you were touching me like that. wet and desperate just for me, huh?” dean huffed through a smirk, pressing your soaked underwear against your folds.

“okay, yeah... maybe. so what?” you laughed along with him, grinding your cunt onto his fingers more. “can’t you just help me with it?”

dean's lips curled into a devious grin, one that made the heat burn hotter in your stomach, and you knew you were in for it. “course, baby. though i'm gonna have some fun with you first... s'only fair,” he grinned as you let out a scoff, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “payback’s a bitch, sweetheart," he crooned mockingly, his fingers not letting up on the teasing touches between your thighs.

you groaned at his words and overall demeanour, scrunching your face in frustration whilst he kept toying with you. “no, come on. i’m sorry, just—”

“nope. you’re gonna help me first. consider it… reparations for working me up so much when all you had to do was just ask for my help,” he murmured, his tone smooth but full of smug satisfaction from seeing you so worked up now.

“okay, okay…” you conceded and let your hands undo the button and fly of his jeans. you shimmied them down, along with his boxers too, as much as you could, before pulling out his painfully hard cock. you wiped some pre from his tip, giving his length a full pump. a hiss escaped dean’s lips.

“geez,” you chuckled, “this was all me?”

he huffed with a defeated smile and let his head fall back into the leather seat, soft little grunts leaving his lips as you moved your hand up and down his member.

“baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he managed to get out through rough breaths. his hips began to buck up into your touch ever so slightly, but his rubbing through your panties didn’t falter; he was teasing you, like you'd done to him, not giving you any proper stimulation that your body was so desperately aching for.

“i need more, dean. please, don’t tease me anymore,” you begged softly, continuing to pump his pretty cock, feeling it throb in your hand.

“mmm,” he pretended to consider your request, “no, i don’t know if you’ve paid your dues yet, my little tease. you knew what you were doing when i was driving.” he rubbed his thick fingers through your damp folds, purposefully pressing the fabric of your underwear against you. the friction felt good, but torturous at the same time; the stimulation just wasn’t enough. you let out a huff. you wanted more. needed more.

“fine.”

you took your hand away from his dick, shuffling back a little on the leather seats. you pushed dean back against the door and settled in front of him. a smirk grew on his face as you bowed down, wrapping your mouth around his cock, though the smirk quickly dropped and morphed into a contorted expression of pleasure as you began swirling your tongue on his sensitive tip, sending hot sparks shooting through his nerves.

“fuuuck… that’s it,” he groaned, trying to get his length deeper into your mouth with small thrusts.

you obliged and took him deeper, trying not to gag on his swollen tip as he thrusted further into your mouth, his head brushing against the back of your throat.

dean’s hands found their way into your hair, scrunching a handful and guiding you to bob on his cock. you let him move you up and down his length, feeling him twitch in your mouth. you wrapped your fingers around the base of his dick, squeezing softly, earning a groan from dean.

you tasted his salty precum, letting your tongue run along his slit. dean let out a deep guttural groan, and his head fell back again, his grip in your hair tightening. “fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. just like that. don’t stop,” he muttered out, his dick still twitching against your tongue. he let obscene words fly from his mouth as his brain began to lose touch with everything but you and the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him.

as he tensed against your tongue, you knew it was time to pull him out before he shot his seed down your throat. you pulled him out, earning a groan of protest from dean.

“please, can you just fuck me now?” you looked up at him with your best wide and pleading eyes.

“y-yeah. take those fuckin’ panties off,” he huffed, panting slightly as you sat up, his eyes locked on yours as you manoeuvred yourself to pull your underwear down.

a satisfied grin bloomed on dean’s face the second you flung your panties off. his hand immediately unhooked your bra and pulled it off you, discarding it with the rest of your clothes on the floor, before pushing you down against the seat. he climbed above you, taking in your breasts with a cheeky smile.

“hello, my favourite ladies,” he hummed and kissed your tits before meeting your eyes again, “well after you, of course, my favourite little tease.” he dropped a kiss on your cheek, finding your exposed heat with his fingers again, stroking at your clit.

you chuckled at his dorky comment and looked up at him, feeling his fingers rub at your core. “mmm, no, dean. i need you inside me…. please? i wanna feel you.”

dean nodded, letting his eyes flicker between yours. “yeah, okay. since you asked so nicely.”

he quickly pushed his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down and grabbed his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. he swiped his tip along your cunt, collecting your arousal on the head of his dick, before slowly pushing into you, earning a pleased hum from you as he stretched you out.

“there we go, baby. is this what you wanted?” dean grinned, bottoming out inside you, feeling your walls clench around him, trying to accommodate his size.

“yes… fuck, yes….” you responded breathily, your voice a little winded from the feeling of him finally impaling you.

he took a moment to just look at you, letting his gaze fall over your pretty parted lips, your now dishevelled hair, and your heavy-lidded eyes that met his with silent pleas to move, but also unspoken words full of love and trust. dean finally pulled his hips back before thrusting back into you. he let out a deep groan and continued to watch your flushed face react to the feel of him moving in and out of your cunt.

your jaw dropped as he began to pick up a firm pace. his dick pistoned into your puffy cunt, hitting all the right gooey spots that made you tighten around him. the car rocked with every thrust and filled with loud breathless moans from the both of you.

dean’s hand found your clit again, his thumb rubbing it expertly. he grinned down at you, taking in your face of pure bliss with his own lazy expression.

“mmm, look at you. taking my cock so well, baby. you’re so tight,” he groaned out, thrusting into you with a measured pace, his balls slapping against the fat of your ass.

his green eyes sparkled as he watched your tits bounce around from his quick thrusts; you could see him practically salivating at the sight. his free hand grabbed at your tits, squeezing and palming them with a stupid grin on his face.

“fuck, dean… you feel so good,” you gasped out as you rocked against the leather seats, your body now coated with a film of sweat. he picked up his pace even more, drilling you into the backseat. you couldn’t help the loud moans from flying out of your mouth or the way your hands had found their way to his back, clawing at it, trying to pull him closer to you.

“ohhhh, fuck… squeezing me like crazy, sweetheart,” he said, winded from the feel of his cock being smothered by the warmth of your tight walls. his hand sped up on your clit, desperate to get you off.

sparks flew throughout your body from his touch, and you cried out, “mmm, god… so close, dean! fuck!”

you felt the band snap in your stomach, and you came, gushing around him, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock from your sticky fluids. he thrusted into you even harder, watching you ride the wave of your orgasm as he chased his own.

“that’s it… that’s it, baby,” dean cooed softly with a smirk on his face. “that’s what you wanted, huh? to cum on my cock like a good girl? such a pretty girl like this. my pretty girl.”

your tight walls kept fluttering around him as you rode your high, the sensation driving him closer to painting your insides white. his thrusts stayed firm and deliberate, nudging against your spongey walls with expertise, building up that tight feeling in your stomach again without even really trying.

“oh, god... more, dean. please, i—” you sputtered out.

“more, baby?” he grunted with a grin, “you're a horny little thing today, huh?”

“need you to cum in me, dean…” you whined, looking up at him. his smirk grew as he leaned down and pressed open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and throat.

“i’m gonna fucking stuff you, baby, don’t worry,” he muttered against your skin, tasting the saltiness of your sweat on his tongue.

the car rocked back and forth from his harsh strokes. you were sure any passerby would immediately know what was happening inside, but you couldn’t find half the mind to care, not when you were so close to hitting your peak again.

“mmm, god…. sweetheart, you’re so— so beautiful,” dean huffed, still nipping and kissing at your neck.

you whined, unable to find the words to reply to his sweet praise. the car filled with the dirty smell of sex and the sound of him squelching in and out of your cunt.

“m’so close, sweetheart. you almost there?” he groaned, his warm breath tickling your neck.

the feeling of his thick member thrusting into you with quick and calculated movements, paired with his heavy hand on your clit, forced your back to arch up into him, your body begging for him to go deeper—to bury himself completely in your greedy cunt. your desperate hands kept clawing at his muscled back, leaving pink lines of broken skin, urging him to give you more.

dean moaned gutturally, “baby— baby, please. can’t hold on much longer.” his dick twitched inside you, and he kept plunging his swollen tip in as far as he possibly could, feeling your walls clamp around him, sending jolts of pleasure flying throughout his body.

“close. i’m close,” you sputtered out, your heat clenching as he rapidly pumped into you, making your core tighten with a fire that threatened to send you over the edge.

dean whimpered and gave you a handful of powerful thrusts, and his hand rubbed your clit vigorously, desperate to make you finish before he did.

“atta, girl. that’s it. i’m right here, sweetheart. i’m there with you. just let go f’me…. please, baby,” he moaned out, his brain wrecked; half focused on not spilling into you just yet, and the other half focused on pushing you into cumming on his dick again.

his practiced ministrations and soft words of encouragement worked you over quickly, bringing on your harrowing release. loud mewls and moans were ripped straight from your throat as your pussy gushed again, only making the wet filthy noises louder. you wailed dean’s name, unable to control your mouth or body as he fucked you through your orgasm.

dean let out a shuddered moan as you cried out his name and hit your peak, squeezing around him like a vice. his eyes clamped shut, and he gritted his teeth, shooting his load into your cunt. “oh, shit, baby— shit!” he groaned, opening his hazy eyes and looking down at your sweet face.

you felt his warm ropes coat your walls, and you hummed, returning his gaze. his dilated eyes flickered between yours as his movements came to a still inside you, his cock beginning to soften. “fuck… fuck, baby. you’re so—”

you smiled as dean’s post-sex spiel began, the action pushing up your flushed cheeks, making the corners of your eyes crinkle.

“jesus, so good…. so good,” he muttered through pants. “so beautiful. i’m so lucky— jesus, i’m so lucky.”

a quiet but mirthful laugh escaped from your lungs. “i love when you get like this,” you murmured earnestly, your features pulled into an amused expression as dean continued to babble out soft praises and compliments.

“sorry, i just—” he trailed off with a sheepish grin, collapsing on top of you. he buried his face into your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your sweaty skin.

“no, s’alright. i love it, really.”

“yeah? good… cause i can’t help but act a damn fool around you, babe. you make me crazy, i swear.”

a grin grew on dean’s face as he heard your scoff of amusement at his words. his curved lips against your skin sent butterflies down to your stomach, fluttering around from his praise.

“m’serious. i’m crazy for you— crazy for that pussy. she’s mine… all mine,” he murmured into your skin.

another amused laugh escaped you. “yeah, she is. all yours, baby,” you playfully conceded.

“mmm,” he hummed in agreement, then lifted his head to look down at you. your eyes met, and you could see glints of desire still dancing around in them. “no more teasing me now, yeah? we’re even?”

it was your turn to grin; the corners of your lips curled, and you nodded. “yeah, no more teasing, baby… for now.”

fig yaps: need my shit rocked in the back of his car tbh anyway you’re welcome for that gif btw !!!!!!!! i actually have it tattooed on my eyelids so i can watch it every time i close my eyes teehehe anyways this lived in my drafts for months and i still don't love it but yolo dropping this and probably dipping for a few days bc my brain is playing evil tbh

feedback and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ofc !! <3

⟡ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @jensenacklesballsack @minettacreekk @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @daylighted @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @starzify @littlesoulshine @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @freeluigihesbae @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids @lanasgirlfr @seven7lee @nymphet-quenn @rafessweetgirl @maeji-may @eternalssunshinee @blossomingorchids @benscumgluzzer @soldiersgirl @arcannaa @gibson-g1rl @vmiina @h8aaz + the rest in the comments sorry!

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crossoverfamily · 2 hours ago

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I feel the same, and for me, it's from the start that I had issues with it, because as Tony said himself: when Tony was making weapons, she had no issue supporting him, but when Tony decided to change, her first reaction was to try to dissuade him and threaten to quit.

Honestly, I feel like Pepper only loved whatever idea she had of who Tony could be rather than who he really was, or she only loved parts of him, rather than the whole person. And Tony, what hurt is that I feel like he just... didn't believe he could be loved as he is. So when Pepper showed love, yet rejected parts of him, he wasn't surprised. He was grateful that someone would love him enough to "put up with him".

He shows himself willing to try, but it was never enough for her, and she doesn't seem to try and make similar compromises for him. Even if she frames it as worry for Tony's life, what she rejects is a core part of who Tony is. What strikes me is how she seems to refuse to be wife and mother unless Tony pretty much completely push aside being Iron Man. And I don't feel like he fully wanted to, and when he does, I feel like its because loosing against Thanos destroyed Tony inside.

And I love Tony for how he chose to change course in life, and he strikes me as someone who deep down just want to be loved as he is, and it hurts me the narrative never truly gave him that. And had the audacity to present the sole long term relationship he had as "the one" without truly acknowledging its unhealthy aspects.

The sole thing I respect is that, maybe, in their head, their love mattered more so they stayed together despite where they conflicted, yet I feel like it would have been so nice if they acknowledge they weren't working out as a couple. They could have been amazing friends once they tried being a couple and realized it wasn't working out. They could have loved each other without having to be a couple, or have it remain romantic. That's why I love to portray them as actively falling out of romantic love and settling into platonic love.

I prefer that to them working things out, because I feel like one of them would have to change something fundamental to work out as a healthy couple, and sure, it can be a story to tell, but if I consider the story I wanted to see, it's one where they love each other enough to not force one to change something that is fundamental, and if this means its too hard to remain a couple, they break off to have instead a healthier platonic relationship.

I trashed all my suits.

#tony stark #(I will probably at some point make a post about Peter role in Tony life indepently to how you like to view them)#(but I wanted this to just be about why the canon relationship for Tony doesnt work for me regardless of everything else)

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youthguk · 2 days ago

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Parasocial | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, best friends with benefits, a little bit toxic, jungkook and reader are a little messy and ruin life’s of people around them

words: 2,3k

summary: Everyone in your circle knew that where there was you, Jungkook wasn't far behind. It was just your natural state of being - together. Your relationship had this beautiful, messy way of coloring outside the lines of typical friendship. But somewhere between algebra homework and growing pains, his protective streak went from "adorably concerned" to "intensely involved in literally everything."

"You're being dramatic," you sighed, feeling the weight of another argument settling on your shoulders.

"The cake should be brought out by someone who is the closest," Ren huffed, his voice dripping with barely concealed venom. "Not just some... friend."

Your birthday evening had started like a scene from a dream - a cherished midnight surprise from Jungkook (your ride-or-die since the awkward days of braces and bad haircuts), heartfelt wishes from your uni squad, and what should have been a perfect dinner surrounded by your favorite humans.

But of course, Ren had to be that guy. The one who couldn't wrap his head around the radical concept that guys and girls could actually be friends without ulterior motives. Revolutionary, right?

And yeah, okay, maybe you'd spent years defending your friendship with Jungkook like it was your dissertation. Maybe you'd drawn lines in the sand that said "this friendship isn't negotiable." But here's the tea - maybe, just maybe, Ren wasn't totally off base with his jealousy.

There were... reasons. Complicated, messy, beautiful reasons why your friendship with Jungkook was slightly more than your average childhood bestie situation.

Reason #1: Lose of virginity

"This is a bad idea," Jungkook loomed over you, blocking your path. His gaze was dark, almost threatening.

"Why?" you whined, genuinely confused. "Eric and I have been dating for six months now, everyone else had their first time at sixteen, and I'm literally the only seventeen-year-old virgin in our friend group!"

You bit your lower lip in frustration, wondering why you were even discussing your potential first time with Jungkook of all people.

But that's just how your friendship had always been - joined at the hip, consulting each other on every little decision. You'd even helped him pick out protection for his sixteenth birthday when he decided Sarah from the neighboring school would be the one. Of course, this was only after your thorough background check on Sarah's credentials.

Everyone in your circle knew that where there was you, Jungkook wasn't far behind. It was just your natural state of being - together.

And honestly? You lived for it - having someone who knew you better than you knew yourself, who loved you fiercely, looked out for you relentlessly, and accepted every messy inch of who you were... that was the real definition of blessed.

He always said you two were like parts of a whole - if one missed something, the other would catch it. Your relationship had this beautiful, messy way of coloring outside the lines of typical friendship. But somewhere between algebra homework and growing pains, his protective streak went from "adorably concerned" to "intensely involved in literally everything."

Take your first kiss, for instance. There you were, thirteen and dreamy-eyed about Matt from Bio class, when Jungkook swooped in with his "I can't let your first kiss be terrible" campaign. And you? Sweet, trusting you? You bought it hook, line, and sinker.

"These moments stay with you forever," he'd insisted, eyes burning with something you couldn't quite name. "What if he's awful and ruins kissing for you forever?"

So there you were, letting your best friend cradle your face like you were made of porcelain, his lips soft against yours. And because Jungkook never did anything halfway, it wasn't just a peck - oh no. He kissed you like he was teaching you a language only he knew, and god help you, you were fluent by the end.

You floated on cloud nine afterward, convinced everyone must kiss like that. (Narrator voice: They did not.)

"You've already had sex," you challenged now, hands on hips, chin tilted in defiance as you tried to make your point.

His eyes traveled over you like a caress—taking in the way your black dress hugged every curve, how it whispered secrets about your waist, how the neckline played peek-a-boo with your cleavage. His gaze dropped to your stockinged legs, and something in the air shifted, grew heavier.

In truth, those stockings weren’t just a fashion statement—they were a secret pact between you and Jungkook, a whispered promise of wild desire. You both knew they ignited something raw in him, and if he got excited, then so would every other man who caught sight.

“So you’re doing this just to spite me?” he teased, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he licked his lower lip with playful intent.

“What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind? Snap out of it,” you shot back, dramatically snapping your fingers right before his eyes. “Did you bring what I asked for?”

A self-assured grin curved his lips as Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced a gleaming condom wrapper. Today was too significant to be marred by embarrassment—too important a day for you to be caught buying them yourself or relying on Eric to even remember. When you asked Jungkook to buy it for you, his response had been effortlessly clear: “Consider it done.”

You knew Jungkook grasped everything when you asked that favor, even though you knew how much he couldn’t stand Eric.

Eric was nothing special. You might have ignored him otherwise, but among all the boys at school, he was the only one bold enough to make a move on you, while everyone else cowered, intimidated by Jungkook’s very presence.

Reaching out for the coveted wrapper, your hand barely brushed the air before Jungkook pulled it just out of reach. Frowning, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t be childish,” you chided. This wasn’t the time for games on such an important day.

“With all due respect, I’m not a child anymore,” he grinned, the mischief dancing in his eyes. “Let me help you,” he said, teasingly waving the condom before you.

Incredulous laughter bubbled from you. “This isn’t funny, Jungkook,” you warned, making yet another feeble attempt to grab the wrapper as he deftly dodged, slipping further into your room like a shadow.

A heavy exhale marked your moment alone as you closed the door behind him—a familiar habit in moments like these.

“I’m not joking,” he murmured with unexpected seriousness, his hand gripping your waist with the firm tenderness of someone who knew your secrets. Guiding you onto your desk, he sat you down as your heart pounded in equal measure to your rising anticipation. Slowly, he eased your legs apart, positioning himself precisely between them.

“What are you doing, Jungkook?” you asked, your voice laced with disapproving wonder even as your heart thundered. An unfamiliar ache began to bloom between your legs, a desire both new and unwelcome in its intensity. What was it about him, simply standing there, that set your body ablaze? Damn.

In a hushed whisper, he replied, “I’m your best friend.” Leaning in closer, his presence made you arch your back, compelling you to lean into his tender gravity. You bit your lower lip in silent acknowledgment. He truly knew you better than anyone. “No one ever understands you like I do,” he murmured, his tongue etching a tantalizing, wet trail from your collarbone to your earlobe.

Your hips responded before your mind could catch up, arching in invitation as you yearned to feel him even closer. What was happening to you? Why did your body betray you with such raw, unbridled passion? Your pulse quickened, each beat echoing the promise of more—so much more.

“Jungkook, this isn’t right,” you murmured as you closed your eyes, throwing your head back to grant him more of your soft, exposed neck for his kisses.

“But the first time has to be unforgettable—a memory that lasts a lifetime,” he insisted, his strong hand tightening around your waist to pull you closer. As his arousal spoke its own language, you couldn’t help but notice the growing evidence of his desire, intensifying the ache that pulsed beneath you. “I won’t let that pathetic jerk spoil what should be your perfect moment.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, you opened your eyes, biting your lower lip to hide the undeniable excitement coursing through you. Jungkook, with a mix of care and audacity, lifted you and laid you gently on the bed. You watched your chest rise and fall in rapid, fervent rhythm as he stood over you, a vision of raw, impossible beauty.

He had always been attractive, undeniably so - every girl at school secretly wishing for just a taste of his world. You learned to duck your eyes back then, knowing one look in those mesmerizing orbs could unravel you completely. And now, with a slow, deliberately teasing reveal, he slips off his shirt to expose broad shoulders and chiseled abs that practically whisper seduction. Seriously, the guy is ridiculously gorgeous.

You lean back into the bed’s soft embrace, eyes glued to him as he unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans off until only his boxers remain. The desire radiating from him is almost a silent dare you simply can’t resist.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a cocky grin, edging closer until you can feel the heat rising between you. You gulp, nerves mixing with that undeniable pull. “Are we really gonna do this?” you ask, your voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and raw, undeniable longing.

“Chill, Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs, drawing you deeper into his orbit. “This is gonna be unforgettable, and you’ll never look back. I’m not just passing through—unlike that clueless high school guy.”

His nearly bare body presses you deeper into the mattress as you shift just enough to let him settle perfectly between your thighs. He leans in close and whispers, “I can stop anytime, just say the word,” sending a rush of heat straight to your core. Without hesitation, you loop your leg around his waist, pulling him even closer. His smirk tells you he’s enjoying every moment. “Good girl,” he rasps, eyes sparkling with mischief as his fingers begin to toy with the hem of your dress. You arch your back, eager for the barrier between you to disappear.

“Jungkook…” you moan as he wastes no time moving to your most sensitive spot, his tongue expertly exploring every curve as it nudges your black thong aside. Wild thoughts swirl through your head—friendship lines blurred, jealousy simmering, and an overwhelming craving for more. Who cared if he was your best friend? You tilt your head back, watching him with hungry eyes as your hips squeeze around his head, silently pleading for another taste.

He had everything you needed, and if anyone could deliver it, it was Jungkook.

You breathe out his name, your cheeks burning either from the confession or the heat of the moment.

“Jungkook, I want you… inside me.” Your admission hangs in the air as he keeps lavishing attention on your most sensitive spot, his tongue relentless. “Please…” you whimper.

But with a teasing glint in his eye, he responds, “Not so fast—think you can handle me right off the bat?”

Rising slightly, he hovers above you, and you catch sight of his arousal straining against his boxers. How could you even know if you were ready when everything felt so deliciously wet?

He chuckles, clearly amused by your unabashed stare, then leans in to kiss you, his lips still carrying the remnants of your shared desire. Your tongues tangle in a messy, passionate dance—your first real kiss as an adult. Your fingers dig into his hair like you can’t get enough. Breaking away briefly, he trails a string of kisses down your neck, and you arch into him instinctively. One hand massaged your breast, playfully tugging at your nipple, while his mouth worships the other, licking and nibbling in just the right way. Soft, stuttering moans escape you—damn, he was so good.

You simply can’t hold back any longer. Sensing your impatience, Jungkook lets a hand slip into your panties, teasing you with one finger before inviting a second in. You’re dripping with desire, teetering on the brink.

“Please…” you moan again, lightly tugging at his boxers, marveling at your own newfound boldness.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmurs, his warm breath mingling with yours as he skillfully opens a foil packet with his teeth. You watch, captivated, as he unrolls the condom along his length, and you instinctively spread your legs wider, signaling that you’re all in.

Jungkook slides his body onto yours, aligning himself perfectly with your entrance. “Mine,” he growls with a note of satisfaction, and you nod silently. In that charged moment, nothing else exists—you’re completely his, as if you always have been.

He enters you slowly, each movement smooth and deliberate, and you can hear his soft moan echo your own rising pleasure. Knowing you excite him as much as he excites you fills you with a satisfying warmth. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him in close as his rhythm quickens, filling the room with the wet, symphonic sounds of your passion—a duet of shared moans and intimate moves propelling you both to the edge.

Eventually, Jungkook collapses against your chest, both of you catching your breath in the aftermath. Rather than pulling away, you linger together in those blissful moments. Finally, propping himself up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a teasing glint.

“So, how was that?” he asks, running his thumb over your still-sensitive, swollen lips, inviting your answer.

“Not bad,” you manage a casual reply.

“Little liar,” he chuckles, sitting up, then adds, “But if you ever need a hand—or a friend, you know where to find me.”

Now you were painfully aware that you couldn’t meet Eric’s eyes after this. With Eric, things never went all the way, despite his half-hearted attempts when Jungkook wasn’t around to intervene. You’d always held back—just a touch here, a flirtatious finger there. Sure, there was a twinge of guilt, but with Jungkook, it never felt like cheating; it was him, your Jungkook. And the truth was evident: Eric was a terrible lover, each touch reminding you just how much better Jungkook made you feel.

That night sealed the deal. Far from any awkward afterglow, you and Jungkook grew even closer—if that was even possible. Hugging, cheek kisses, having him casually plop on your lap during movie nights, or simply cuddling in bed became your new normal. It drove Eric mad, as any boyfriend in his position would be. You broke up with Eric right after graduation, that summer before heading off to university with Jungkook by your side. A bold new life was on the horizon, and you stepped into it together, united by your little, delicious secret.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook ff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you

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invoncible · 1 day ago

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♡ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ... ! (CECIL VER.) cw. suggestive towards the end

— as requested. i've gotten a few asks for some cecil, conquest, and nolan stuff so i'm gonna make this a mini series! the next part will probs be conquest ? i imagine you're controversially young for them in comparison. because lets be real these guys are fossils. — i probs got him ooc IM SORRY

cecil is a private man. nobody knows about your relationship, and that's how he liked it.

you were a secretary at the pentagon, a well-to-do front line desk worker that loved your low maintenance job that allowed you great pay, easy hours, and lots of benefits.

the first time you met, he came in to work grumbling as usual about all the shit he had to deal with... until he saw your bright smile over the counter.

"hiii!" you sprung up from your seat, offering him a coffee. "director stedman, good to see you today."

his name and 'good to see you today' rarely coincided. being the guy that made all the hard decisions didn’t leave much room for camaraderie—no one got buddy buddy with the guy in charge (except donald).

he accepted the coffee on autopilot while scrutinizing you. you were a new face, at least to his knowledge. first day, maybe? wanting to make a good impression on the boss?

"thanks." he muttered, taking a sip and trying to hide his surprise when it was made just how he liked it. he was too picky for it to be a lucky guess, so you probably asked around... for information on him... interesting. he had to be careful with you.

he caught your eyes over the rim of the cup; you were watching him with an equal intensity, searching for any microexpressions that would affirm you did a good job. your lips quirked up in a smug little smile when you managed to pull approval from his facade, smoothing down your pants as you dropped into your seat again.

"have a good day, sir." you hummed, eyes flickering up to him as he walked away.

"yeah." he cleared his throat, more confused than anything.

he brushed it off as a fluke—again, he thought you were new and wanting to make a great first impression. which you did, by the way, but his intrigue grew when you just didn't stop.

every morning without fail, you had his coffee ready, a sweet little greeting, a warm smile. it became a comfort for him, but he didn't even allow himself to go down that road of ... affection. because you were you and he was him.

"so, how about that secretary, sir?" donald asked him one day.

"what about 'em, donald?" cecil sighed, but he was itching to talk about it, too. his thoughts drifted to you more often than he’d like, and it was becoming a biiit of a problem.

“nothing.”

“you brought it up. clearly you had something to say.” cecil pinched the bridge of his nose. “so talk.”

donald’s lips quirked up ever so slightly. “are you aware they only prepare coffee for you?”

no, he wasn’t aware. it’d become so normal that he hadn’t even considered that. he might as well be hyper-aware, now. breaking people down to their innermost desires and principles were his trade, and his analytical mind was not lost on you. and so, every morning without fail, he talked a bit. went beyond the ‘have a nice day’ thing you’ve both grown comfortable with.

you perked up in your seat upon seeing cecil walk in, another thing that endeared you to him. “director—”

“how do you like your coffee?”

you blinked, thrown off by the change in routine. “um… i like to try something different each time, i guess..?”

“if you had to choose.” he murmured, delicately accepting the warm cup from your outstretched hand. “humor me.”

that was where it started. from then on, he showed up with your coffee, performing an amicable exchange of sorts (he had ulterior motives, of course) and while you two sipped on the hot invigorating brew, you talked about how you ended up here, what you did outside work, places you’ve traveled… emphasis on you because he wasn’t going to spoil this slice of heaven with his troublesome past.

“it’s a good deal, you know?” you hummed, swirling the cup in your hand. “nice desk all to myself, easy admin work, no one annoying to handle for the most part.”

“for the most part?” he inquired, leaning over the counter.

you waved him off as you sipped from your cup. he frowned and chucked his empty cup in the garbage behind your desk.

“tell me.”

you laughed softly, tossing your cup along his, licking your lips of the residual taste. “mm. you have bigger things to deal with, director. things that needed your attention…” you trailed off, glancing at your screen. “what, an hour or so ago?”

“is it the end of the world?”

“no.”

“then the team can handle it.” cecil’s lips parted in a smug smile, his words holding a finality you couldn’t help but listen to. you couldn’t suppress the warm feeling pooling in your gut. “tell me. that’s an order.”

“oh?” you reacted verbally, your eyes widening, the firm command making your heart flutter. “since when do you give me orders?”

“since i care about harassment in my building.” he shot back before allowing himself to be impressed with your audacity. since i care about you.

you giggle softly and he takes a moment to commit the sound to memory.

“i’m just kidding,” you stand and jog your papers against the desk surface, preparing to make your rounds with the freshly printed documents. “you are my boss, after all.”

yeah… he is your boss. but with you, he often felt like you were in charge.

you’d be lying to say this wasn’t your plan all along. you saw him when you came in for your job interview and decided to try your luck. you didn’t expect it to work, much less work well. you had him wrapped around your finger! at first, it was just a fun way to pass the time at your desk; now it was something you looked forward to everyday.

“it’s just some analyst from upstairs that comes to bug me.” you shrug with a roll of your eyes. “just stands there and talks for hours.”

“isn’t that what i do?” the question left his mouth before he could stop it, and he instantly regretted it. the more he talked to you, the less of a filter he had, rarely thinking things over before speaking and impulsively saying what’s on his mind.

your lips spread in a small, mischievous smile, a glint in your eye. “you’re different. i like you.”

you’d become more and more forward and it was getting harder for him to dismiss the hints you dropped. the man’s been around, and he wasn’t so dumb to be blind to what you were doing. what you were trying to get him to feel. although considering that he was your boss, he was simply content with the song and dance you had right now.

he watched you walk away until you disappeared from his sight with a heavy sigh.

side note, you never saw that analyst again.

there was one day you weren’t at your desk, and your absence rang some alarms in his head. he’d been sneaking looks at your records and would know if you requested time off. more than that, you would have told him.

he was about to walk off when he heard the doors behind him burst open and the rapid clack clack clack of shoes racing across the floor.

he turned to watch you, looking deliciously disheveled might he add, with a raise of his brow. “y/n—“

“i’m sorry!” you stop in front of him to catch your breath. “i didn’t get your coffee today—“

“that’s fine,” cecil said lowly, his expression amused. “you run a fucking marathon or something?”

“—i got up late and… and… damn, that’s the first time i’ve sprinted in a while. fuck.” you bent over your knees, panting. “there was traffic and a whole line at the coffee shop—someone knocked it out of my hand when i was leaving—“

“hey.” he set your coffee down on the counter behind him, putting his hands on hips. “you don’t have to apologize. it was nice you even started to do that in the first place, doll.”

your eyes snap to the cup he got you, a frown tugging on your lips. “but you—“

“don’t worry about it.”

“okay, but—“

“i said don’t worry. that’s an order.”

you huffed a breathless laugh as you straightened up. “i’m beginning to think you just like telling me what to do.” (he did.)

your odd relationship with the director came to a head at a workplace get together. a rare moment of respite which was really a space for the entire department to wallow in their misery together rather than alone.

cecil never came to these things until he knew you’d be at them. he figured he’d drop in just to scope things out, and he wasn’t sure what he expected but he definitely did not expect you, and many others, to be piss drunk.

you recognized him through the dim light, brightening up as you usually do. you stumbled over, jostled by the packed bodies pushing and pulling you through the crowd.

“easy.” cecil murmured, coaxing the glass out of your hand. “damn, you’re wasted.” he commented more to himself than you, a short incredulous laugh slipping through his lips.

“mhmm.” you slurred, head thumping into his chest.

“okay.” he whispered, downing the rest of your glass and setting it aside to free up his hands. can’t let good wine go to waste. a thought passed through his head as he swallowed the beverage: this must be what you taste like right now. pump the brakes, loverboy.

he propped you back upright by your shoulders. “how ‘bout we lay off the drinks?”

“whatever you say, boss.” you hummed, a buzzed smile on your lips.

“you want a ride?”

your clumsy hands wrapped around his tie, pressing into him and tugging him forward by the loose fabric. “you offering?”

holy shit. his eyes flickered to your delicate fingers, the same ones he’s watched type away at a keyboard, walk up and up and up his red tie. “no.” he said curtly.

“‘nd i don’t mean a car.” you hiccup.

he paused, wondering if you realized you were talking to him, not some other co-worker. “i know.”

you sigh dramatically, leaning into him. “you should give me your number.”

cecil groaned, shaking his head. now he knew you needed to get some water in you and sleep your intoxication off. you were saying nonsense. “let’s get you out of here, kid, i’ll call you a cab.”

“no. m’serious,” you pushed, lips pursed in a pout. “i want your number.”

his steely blue eyes narrowed at you, searching your face even as you swayed from side to side. “no, you don’t.”

you scoffed and knocked your head against his shoulder, clinging to his arm for support as he walked you out of the gathering. “whyyyy…” you mumbled.

cecil dialed someone on his phone, holding it up to his ear as it rang. “you’re drunk, y/n. you’re not thinking straight.”

“i am!” you retorted petulantly, tugging on his arm and pulling the phone away from his head. “i’ve wanted it for a while, just took a little liquid courage to ask…” you trailed off, eyes drooping. “we have coffee dates all the time, what’s so different if—”

“woah, woah, woah.” he stopped you, “dates?” he echoed incredulously.

you bite your lip, peering up at him while his response buffered in your inebriated mind. after a moment, you nodded. “uh-huh.”

“those aren’t dates, kid.” this bitch was lying through his teeth. he considered them dates, too, but anything to keep a semblance of control over the situation.

“might as well be. ‘nd stop calling me that.” you scrunched up your nose in distaste. he’s never called you ‘kid’ before this and you’re beginning to think it’s his way of putting distance between you.

“i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want.” he snapped, growing defensive. he liked your little game, the fun will-they-won’t-they thing you two had going on, but now that it was becoming real to him… now that you were forcing him to confront the feelings he knew he had for you, he had to build his walls back up again—even if it pushed you away in the process.

“yeah? cuz you’re my boss?” you managed to shoot back, still gripping onto him for support.

“look at that, you got it. was that so hard?” he scoffed, turning away from you to prevent himself from caving. your shiny eyes in the darkness and tinted lips from the drinks made him want to throw caution to the wind. “i know you think you want something from me… trust me, sweetheart, i’m doing you a favor.”

you roll your eyes. “cuz you’re so noble like that.”

cecil’s eyes narrowed, getting into your space. he walked into you, unintentionally guiding your back into a wall. “mock me all you want, doll. the moment you lie in bed with me is the moment you’re erased from existence. i won’t allow anything to happen to you, and i’ll do everything to prevent that from happening.”

“okay?”

he put his hands on his hips. “i don’t think you understand. i don’t do anything half-assed.”

you giggled drunkenly. “and that’s supposed to be a threat?”

“you know i love when you talk, but shut up for a second,” cecil closed his eyes like he was trying to gather himself. you always had a knack for undermining his authority. but in retrospect, he made it way too easy to do so. when he looked at you again, something had shifted.

“this isn’t a game to me,” he muttered, voice quieter now, but no less intense.

you blinked up at him, suddenly realizing how close he was—not just physically, but in a way that made your heart stutter. you were finally on the precipice of what you’d been building up to since you met him.

cecil exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face like he was trying to keep himself in check. “i’ve spent months convincing myself i should keep you at arm’s length.” his hand curled around your wrist, not hard, but firm enough to make your breath catch. “if you push me…” he trailed off, leaning in closer… and closer… his nose brushed against yours and that singular touch sent a jolt of clarity into him.

he pulled back, stepping back and shaking his head with a click of his tongue. “this is reckless.”

“cuz you’re my boss?” you offered, finally finding your voice, your mind no longer occupied by his proximity or the scent of his cologne.

“uh-huh. and i can’t be your boss if i’m with you like that.” cecil adjusted his tie and shirt. “also. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not that drunk.”

“drunk enough.” he shot back with a raise of his brow.

“cecil.” you step towards him, reaching out to him. your heart swelled when he didn’t try to evade you. your hand fastened around his wrist. “i’m telling you i’m not. scrub me from your records for all i care. keep an eye on me. i know you do that already, anyway. the only thing that’s changing is that we’re both getting what we want. i don’t want you to just be my boss.”

he groaned, turning away from you despite the tether you had on his arm. “don’t say that shit.”

“what? that i want you?”

“will you stop?” cecil turned to you, a scowl on his face.

your lips split into a grin. his instructions never really worked on you. “do you want me to?”

cecil rolled his eyes. obviously the answer was no. “...fuck.” he cursed before dragging you outside, storming across the parking lot.

he stood next to his car. “last chance to back—”

“fuck no.” you scoffed with that stupid grin of yours and cecil wasted no time ripping the back door open and shoving you into the back seats. he quickly followed you inside.

his breath hitched as you clambered onto his lap, hands landing on your hips. for a brief moment, he hesitated—just a fraction of a second before he kissed you.

it was rough and desperate and months in the making, like he couldn’t get close enough, like he couldn’t pull you in fast enough. his hands slid down the curve of your ass, pulling you up further on his lap as he let his legs shift apart. your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him deeper.

“you’re so fucking annoying,” he growled against your lips, his grip tightening around you contrary to his declaration.

you laughed brightly. “you're taking me to coffee tomorrow. but for now... still up for that ride?”

#invincible #invincible x reader #invincible x gn reader #cecil invincible #cecil stedman #cecil stedman x reader

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milessunflowers · 3 days ago

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welcome back to bear does role reversals!!

twitch streamer!lando norris x f1 driver!reader :P

-bear

twitch streamer!lando makes me so happy omg

twitch streamer!lando norris x f1 driver!gn!reader

synopsis: nobody realizes that their favorite twitch streamer is dating their favorite f1 driver until they show up in one of lando's streams

author's note: guys i actually wrote something other than headcannons?? holy shit?? i feel like a small blurb or whatever it is called (can't remember for the life of me) fit this vibe more than anything so yeah! hope you guys like it

finally, it was winter break. you had had a long season, ending it in third overall for the world championship. sure, it wasn't ideal, per say, but you were incredibly proud, and so was lando. in fact, the two of you went out on a last-minute date, sharing a nice burger before heading back to the hotel.

with the season finally over, you now had all the time you could wish for and more to spend with your boyfriend. most of the time, you and lando attempted to make dinner, had movie nights, and oftentimes played whatever games lando wanted with each other. it was a nice break from the high stress of driving cars at upwards of 375 kilometers an hour. plus, you had gone pretty much off the grid to detox from the heavy drama and rumors swirling around your career.

with lando, you could just be you without the stress of pr or the looming presence of your contract. lando was a breath of fresh air, even if he was a bit intense and chaotic at times. you loved him more than anything.

tonight was more or less normal. you were sitting on the couch, waiting for your food to arrive, and watching the tele. lando was in the home office, streaming like he usually did on friday nights. he was screaming and laughing, chatting with max while they shot insults back and forth at each other. you found it hilarious, especially since you teased them for acting like an old married couple.

behind lando was your collection of helmets and trophies. of course, people knew you lived together and somehow never put together all the puzzle pieces. you thought it was quite funny as it was blatantly obvious. you never hid your relationship from public view, nor did you ever want to. your fans and his just never seemed to connect the dots.

you hadn't minded, though. it was nice having a more private relationship, even if it wasn't exactly private. lando, and you were always openly affectionate with each other in public. especially lando, who is constantly hanging off your arm and kissing you.

you are snapped out of your thoughts when the doorbell rings, signaling your take out has arrived. you thank the delivery woman, tip her extra for being so kind, and enter the apartment once more. you set everything up before calling your boyfriend.

"lando! babe, dinner's here!" you call to him, hoping he can hear you over his high-pitched giggling. you wait a spell, seeing if he will come out of his cave as you have come to call the office. "babe!" you shout again before sighing and heading towards the office door.

you open it to find lando bright red from laughing. "lando, babe!" you say, approaching him, in view of the camera, and pull his headset off. "dinner's here." he looks up at you, annoyed before he smiles.

"why didn't you call me?" he asks, turning to see the chat blowing up eith question marks. he giggles again before looking back st your half annoyed expression.

"i called you at least three times, baby," you tell him, rolling your eyes at the cheeky look he was giving you. you gently shove his face away and laugh. "c'mon, love. gotta eat before it gets cold."

"can you pretty please bring me a plate? today's the longer stream, and i can't end it," he tells you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. you close your eyes, throw your head back, and sigh heavily.

"fine, but only if i can eat in here with you too," you respond, leaning down to give him a short kiss before going to grab him a plate of food. lando cackles when you leave as his chat is absolutely shocked with your relationship.

"chat, don't be so surprised. i've been with them for years," he tells his chat, rolling his eyes. "and yes, i have been to their races. it literally says 'twitch streamer and y/n l/n's partner' when i'm shown on the tele. are you guys actually that dumb?!"

"well if they watch you, mate-" max starts before lando is yelling again, causing max to cackle as well. you barely step back into the room before you are met with the hynea sounds that assault your ears.

"what the hell?" you announce, handing your boyfriend his plate, your reaction unfortunately making him cackle louder. "never mind, just eat." and he does. he eats and chats and laughs with you and max. that stream later goes completely viral, and finally, after years together, the world has finally pieced it together how insanely in love you guys are.

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius

#oli's 100 event #f1 x reader #f1 x male reader #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x male reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x male reader

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brawberryz · 22 hours ago

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⎯⎯ㅤStupid detective

Batfam Yan! × L Lawliet! Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language

TW / yandere behaviors, obsession, isolation, murder, violence, toxic relationships

L Lawliet! Reader, who is one of the family's best detectives.

L Lawliet! Reader, who is scolded daily for her diet of nothing but sweets. Several times they forced you to change your diet to a healthier one, but you simply refused.

Sweets were the best thing for you, and you weren't going to let anyone take that away from you.

L Lawliet! Reader, who spends most of her time in her room solving cases. You had surpassed the entire family in how far you could go without sleep.

Your dark circles were enormous and adorned your eyelids. Your family still wonders how you're still alive.

L Lawliet! Reader, who instead of using the shower or bathtub like a normal person decided to bathe in the washing machine. Alfred could still remember when he found you spinning naked in the washing machine.

Your excuse was that it was more comfortable. From that day on, your family's eyes never left you, afraid you'd do something stupid and end up dead.

You really didn't care. As long as they didn't bother you while you were sorting things out, you weren't bothered by their overprotectiveness.

L Lawliet! Reader, who began to obsess over a particular case, Kira. It was a case of a new serial killer tormenting all of Gotham.

Bruce offered to solve it, but you stopped him and told him you'd take charge. He trusted you in your abilities, but he believed this case was more dangerous than it seemed.

L Lawliet! Reader, who one day found you with a boy handcuffed to your wrist and a very loud blonde girl.

Apparently, you had found the culprits, but you didn't have enough evidence to blame them, so you literally stuck to them, refusing to leave their sides.

You can already hear Alfred preparing the guest room. They knew you weren't one to give up, and they knew you'd do anything to prove you were right.

And if that meant keeping two "innocent" people locked in your room and technically interrupting their lives to prove you were right, you would do it.

Fuck, of course you would.

L Lawliet! Reader, who can feel the murderous glares her family was giving their "guests."

They couldn't believe what you did. How dare you let strangers into the mansion and stick yourself to them!?

They hated how the blonde girl named Misa touched and hugged you. Who did she think she was, touching you like that?

It made their blood boil that someone other than them would touch you or spend time with you. Ever since those two people arrived, all your attention was focused on them.

Are they supposed to be your family? Why are you ignoring them now?

The no-kill rule trembled in each of them every time they saw you with Light or Misa.

They had to get rid of them NOW.

L lawliet! Reader, who ended up getting into a fistfight with Light after an argument, was surprising in that even though you were handcuffed and technically glued to him, your movements were skillful and quick.

Maybe your body seemed weak, but you weren't; you had been trained by the whole family to be perfect.

If Dick hadn't interrupted the fight, I could swear you could have killed him.

Although he wouldn't mind if you killed Light either; it would be one less problem on the family's to-do list.

L Lawliet! Reader, you have shitty posture. You could easily have some muscle problems when you're older.

Sometimes they wondered if your back or some muscle didn't hurt because of your posture.

L Lawliet! Reader, who is aware that she is surrounded by yanderes and murderers, you had realized this a long time ago.

You weren't stupid; you weren't the best detective for nothing, maybe better than Batman (although that would be too much of an ego boost for you).

You just hoped that your family's yandere-like behavior didn't interrupt your investigation into Kira.

My obsession with Death Note has returned. Omfg how I love that fucking show.

Maybe I'll do a Light and misa

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 2 days ago

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Chronic Sonic pt 6

Close call.

1. Sonics aggressively green eyes are a result of the massively unhealthy amount of chaos coursing through his body. His eyes get brighter and brighter the more he's exposed and the more it eats him up. Once the inhibitors are on the access to that power is cut off he loses that glow. He doesn't really like it. (Points to whoever noticed I colored his eyes way dimmer than usual in pt 4)

2. Going super gets increasingly dangerous for Sonic but not for the obvious reason you might think. Yeah, its dangerous because its unrestrained chaos doing more damage to his already messed body. But the real danger comes because going super feels good. There's no pain, he's not lethargic, he's as fast and as strong as he ever was, there's no heavy inhibitors slamming doors in his face; it's addicting. It's the quick fix, the insta-pain relief, and the longer he stays in it the more damage it does to him, the more he wants to use it. The more he uses it, the less likely he is to stay in one piece without it. And the worse it gets outside of it, the harder it gets to give it up.

3. Sonic and Shadows relationship is a bit strained. While Sonic knows the inhibitors are good for him, l discomfort of wearing them and the rush from going super make it hard to want to wear them. Shadow is ready to fistfight him to make sure he keeps them on as often as possible and hes the one who got Tails the info to make em so Sonic starts to associate Shadow with... that. Shadows fine with Sonic looking at him less, he's busy making sure he doesn't get worse, he will punch him through a wall when he's down if thats what it takes, he doesn't care what Sonic thinks of him as long as he stays alive.

#KNOX ART (me)#Chronic Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Shadow the Hedgehog #long post #sonic feeling more like himself when hes super while hes actually gradually becoming even less and less like himself? crazy #okay ive spent way too long typing this all out time to post n run

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lascvitae · 1 day ago

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❀༉‧₊˚ telepathy ── kim minjeong!

── minjeong has been distant lately and you have no idea why. she’s also been blushing way more around you lately and you still don’t know why.

pairing. spider!minjeong x fem!reader genre. fluff, comedy, angst but not too much bc i wanted to keep it minimal 😓 (happy ending dw) warning(s). cursing, horrible attempt at comedy, i want a natty and i want a julie

word count: 4.4k

feat. natty & julie of kiss of life, yeonjun of txt & ryujin of itzy.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ katty ᥫ᭡: a birthday gift for the og camp @jjjaliyah happy birthday pookie <333 also let me guys know if you want a part 2 bc i left so many openings for one (on purpose) BTW i tried a new layout i hope you giys like it OKAY I’M DONE YAPPING BYE

masterlist.

“if you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?” you asked, setting down your cup of strawberry ice cream and turning to face your best friend.

minjeong brought her knees up to her chest, tilting her head as if she were contemplating an answer to the question.

“mm…” she hummed, concentration etched onto her pretty features.

it finally clicked and she averted her gaze to you, scooping up a spoonful of ice cream. “i would choose telepathy.” she decided, bringing the spoon up to her mouth. “so i could read people’s minds.”

you nodded, leaning backward on your hands. “that’s a good one.” the sun had begun to set and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

“what about yours?” she returned your curiosity, tongue darting out to swipe up the ice cream that settled on the corner of her lips, coating a bit of her piercing.

“probably telepathy too.” you agreed. “i want to know what people think of me.” that wasn’t lie, even if your mind constantly wondered what only minjeong thought of you. “it would be nice to know what the judges think of my performance.”

the blonde-haired girl laughed at your reasoning, shaking her head as she continued to devour her cup of ice cream. “that’s such a y/n thing to do.”

you raised an eyebrow, slightly offended. “and what does that mean?” her smile widened at the sound of your offense, playing with her snake bites with a humorous gaze.

“of course you’d use your power for that.” she began. “you’re so worried about this talent show. don’t you know that you’re already gonna win first place?”

“you don’t know that.” you argued. “mrs jung could select some critical judges.”

“i do.” she answered quickly. “i know you better than you know yourself.”

typically another strong remark you could come up with silence her for a bit further but you accepted defeat this time around. something you rarely did but with minjeong, you didn’t mind it.

so with a sigh, you picked up your cup of ice cream and began to work at it again. “what would you use your telepathy for then?”

a quiet giggle escaped her lips. “to know what you’re thinking.” she spoke rather bluntly. this caught you off guard and frankly confused you. this wasn’t something minjeong would normally say.

“so i can think of easier come backs. that way, you won’t ever have another win under your belt.” she concluded, making you roll your eyes in a good-natured manner.

“i should have known.” you took a spoonful of ice cream to your lips.

this was becoming a daily routine — hanging out in the trunk of minjeong’s car and watching the sunset while eating whatever the two of you had craved that day.

the summer heat left no other option but ice cream to cool the two of you down, and lucky for you, minjeong knew the best ice cream spot in town.

so these conversations weren’t uncommon for you two. it had been something that she suggested as soon as she had gotten her car in sophomore year.

and now, nearing the end of senior year, it was a staple in your friendship. not only that alone, but it was one of the main reasons why you fell for minjeong in the first place.

the small moments added up to unforgettable moments and everything in between, deepening your relationship with her. the fact that you both could go anywhere and never run out of things to talk about was something that you required in a partner.

from the time that you met her in third grade to now, there was really never a dull moment with minjeong. it was always full of smiles.

but something about her seemed off as of late.

it worried you deeply because it was something that you had experienced before with your ex-girlfriend ryujin.

ryujin would be late to dates that were arranged even weeks prior, and she was always prepared with a lame excuse underneath her belt.

minjeong looked down at her apple watch, setting her cup down soon as it was empty. “we should get going now. didn’t you say that you wanted to practice some more?” she glanced at your form. “even though you don’t need it.” she mumbled.

you were honored that she remembered, holding onto your cup as you stood up from your spot. “i did. what time is it?”

“seven.” she responded quickly, following in your steps. you waited for her to toss the cup into one of the nearby garbage cans at the park, walking towards thepassenger door as you saw her coming back.

sbe practically teleported to your side with how fast she made it there, opening the door for you. and she wasn’t even out of breath.

“you know you don’t open doors with me around.” her tone made you feel as if she were scolding you, even if it were supposed to be more of a reminder. but the smirk on her lips didn’t go unnoticed.

rolling your eyes playfully, you climbed into the seat and buckled your seatbelt. she closed the door, walking over to the other side.

with a quick button press the trunk began to close and she started the car, driving through the city because she knew how much you enjoyed the view.

that wasn’t the only reason why, though. the scenic route allowed you to spend more time with her.

her playlist began to start on shuffle, serving as the perfect background noise while you let your window down.

the lights of the city illuminated your face beautifully as minjeong traversed through the streets, breeze assisting in cooling you off with the coldness of your unfinished ice cream.

the billboards flashed with a multitude of bright, beautiful colors and different advertisements but there was one that was always consistent whenever you two took a drive. or a theme that was consistent, rather.

it was anything spiderman. man, did this town love the fact that they had gotten a superhero. you couldn’t see all of the hype surrounding him, honestly. he was a superhero, yes, but some of the attention was a bit excessive.

but you pulled out your phone, snapping a few pictures of the beautiful before you. and little did you know, minjeong was desperate to do the exact same thing.

once you clicked the frame in the tiny corner you were met with nothing but blurry pictures, disappointment etched onto your face as the car stopped at a red light.

so you took the opportunity to capture a few photos now that the car wasn’t in motion anymore, earning a quiet laugh from minjeong.

“what?” you scoffed, making her head shake from left to right. she had been staring at you the whole time, and you hadn’t even noticed.

you shivered a bit, unsure if it was because the amount of cold coursing through your veins now or because of the intensity of minjeong’s gaze.

either way, she didn’t hesitate to toss her jacket in your direction. “we come this way almost every single time and you still have pictures to take.”

you huffed, stubbornly wrapping the jacket around your body and snuggling into the dizzying scent of her perfume.

“when a view is pretty you don’t get tired of taking pictures.” you answered matter-of-factly, scrolling through your most recent ones.

minjeong hummed as the light turned green, stepping on the gas as she made it her top priority to get you home safely.

“well i guess you’re right.” she muttered, watch making a weird noise before she checked it.

“but i have to cut the tour short.” she spoke, voice with a slight roughness to it now. she made a quick left turn, taking the backroads to your home.

you sighed.

this wasn’t anything new. whenever minjeong got a certain notification on her watch, she was quick to leave you and disappear for about an hour or even sometimes more.

you were used to it, though. she had made it a habit ever since junior year and you were too afraid to bring it up.

“you’re driving kind of fast, jeongie.” even if it were true or not, you just wanted to get her attention back on you. or at least have one last conversation before she would leave for who knows how long.

“i’m doing five over. that’s legal.” she didn’t spare you a glance, eyebrows furrowed slightly. you couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or lost in thought.

you decided to leave her alone, finishing your ice cream moments before she pulled to the side of your lawn.

“same thing tomorrow?” you unbuckled your seatbelt, ready to get out of the car.

she nodded, and once you began to step out her hand gripped onto your arm to prevent you from doing it.

“wait.” she called out, face tinted a light shade of red.

you would find her cute if she hadn’t been blowing you off for the past year.

“um. can we do something different tomorrow?” she asked, reluctantly releasing her grip on you.

your eyebrow raised, clearly intrigued. “like what?”

“a date?”

you freezed up, blinking a few times at the sound of it. you almost believed that she was just joking before you saw the tug she did on her piercing that she only performed once she was nervous.

“yeah. sure.” you nodded, fighting back the smile begging to dance across your lips and squeal out loud. “as friends?”

but you lost the fight as minjeong smiled, leaning back in her seat with a shrug. so you just squealed internally.

“i don’t know. maybe more. how is five pm?” she suggested and you could only nod.

“then goodnight, y/n. get lots of rest so you won’t be tired.” you giggled quietly, shutting the door after a brief moment of silence.

she made sure that you got into the house safely, closing the door behind you and locking it with a soft click.

you sighed, tossing your ice cream into the trash before walking into your room and taking off your jacket, pitching it onto your bed.

that was when you realized.

that wasn’t your jacket.

shit, shit, shit. you thought to yourself, grabbing it and speed-walking to the front door so you could avoid confrontation from your sister and catch minjeong in time.

to your surprise she the car was still parked in the same spot, not even had moved by an inch.

so you sprinted towards it, jacket in hand. only to be met with no minjeong.

your smile instantly faded, examining every inch of the car to see if she was just in the backseat or something along the lines.

but there was no minjeong. her shoes were tossed in the backseat and so was her bag.

she had to come back, though — how else would she get home?

you wanted to leave the jacket on the top of her car or somewhere else but you feared that someone would take it so you just stepped back inside with it in your hands.

tomorrow came rather quickly and so that meant your date with minjeong did as well.

you gathered everything you needed into your bag as the final bell rung, signaling that it was time for dismissal.

usually minjeong would drive you home after school but you weren’t sure if your nerves could handle seeing her before the date, so you were pitching a ride with some of your other friends this time around.

“are you ready for tomorrow?” julie found you at your locker, sipping from her stanley as she locked arms with you. “they’re gonna love your performance. i already know it.”

you smiled, letting her lead the way to the school parking lot. “i really hope so.” your heart began to race at the thought, anxious at all of the possible outcomes of tomorrow evening.

“hey! girl, none of that!” she nudged you playfully upon noticing how you quickly your expression had changed. “we’re all gonna be there. me, natty, and minjeong. we’ll get front row seats and —“

as the two of you continued to walk, the person who you resented locked eyes with you.

shin ryujin.

but it was different this time.

she looked like she wanted to reach out for you. like there was something she was begging to say. time seemed to slow as you walked past her and yeji.

“ —but hopefully a fire doesn’t like break out and some supervillain attacks the school or something. but i would i’ll be recording so i wouldn’t mind! maybe we can even catch spiderman on camera.” julie concluded, giggling before taking a sip of her stanley again. “hey, you listening?” she asked.

you hummed, instantly snapping your head to the side to look at her again. “oh, yeah. thanks for cheering me up, juls.” you offered her a smile and she returned it generously. “you know i’m here for you.”

you opened your mouth to speak but her gasp stopped you from speaking any further, fingers combing through her hair. “act natural! yeonjun’s looking over here.”

you rolled your eyes as she sipped from the stanley again, giving the male a wave.

“he wants me sooo bad.” she sighed and pushed the exit door open, unlocking the doors to her car. “ugh why can’t he just ask me to prom already!”

“like i know he likes me! he sat beside me in —“ and she was ranting again.

you climbed into the seat while listening to her, buckling your seatbelt.

“and he’s been checking me out hella recently. he would take pictures of me when i’m not looking and stare at me and call me pretty and stuff. and girl, he asked me out on a date! like we’ve been hanging out almost everyday and —“

“wait, you have a date with him?” you asked. the situation was beginning to sound a bit familiar. “when?”

“this weekend.” she answered, starting a random playlist. ‘espresso’ by sabrina began to blast through the speakers and just like that, julie was distracted for another three minutes.

once you arrived to your house and waved julie goodbye, you were greeted by your older sister, natty.

“hey, stranger.” she quirked an eyebrow due to seeing you home so soon. “you’re a few hours early.”

“i have something to do.” you excused yourself awkwardly, desperately trying to avoid any further conversation from the older.

she let out a scoff of disbelief, chasing behind you throughout the halls as you gradually sped off. “y/n! i just have a question!”

you stopped as you reached the doorway of your bedroom, turning around to face her. “i charge five dollars per question.”

“of course you do with your cheap ass.” she crossed her arms and you gave her a fake smile before closing the door in her face, locking it swiftly after.

“i’ll just find julie’s instagram some other way.” you heard her say from on the other side of the door, face contorting into one of disgust.

“eww! leave my friends alone!” you yelled with a shudder. after not receiving a response you decided to voice your distate in her choices once more.

“she has a boyfriend!”

five pm came around quicker than you could blink and you lay face up on your bed, waiting for minjeong to inform you upon her arrival.

you mindlessly scrolled through tik tok for a few minutes, trying to distract yourself from the growing aching sensation in your chest at the thought of minjeong standing you up.

no, she wasn’t like that. you knew her. she wouldn’t do that.

but lately, you weren’t sure of what to believe. she was ending hangouts early, putting you on the back burner. and she always had an excuse for it. it reminded you of someone.

and the realization of that stung your soul, and soon so did the tears sting your eyes.

minutes quickly turned into hours and there was no sign of minjeong. your phone buzzed multiple times with news articles but none of it was who you wanted it to be.

you accidentally clicked on a news article, grumbling quietly as you sat up.

‘spiderman saves the day again!’

you tossed your phone to the side, sitting down on the chair positioned in front of your piano. honestly, you were grateful that the town had a superhero to count on now but you couldn’t care less about him if he couldn’t fix your relationship.

the piano keys became increasingly wet as you practiced the song you planned to play for the school talent show, ‘let you break my heart again’ by laufey.

minjeong’s lack of effort recently made you question a lot of things, especially how she really viewed you.

she wasn’t the type to show anyone up and even once upon a time, you were her main focus. there wasn’t a thing in the world she would choose over you.

but recently, that just didn’t seem to be the case.

music was your refuge. it had always been. but it was just nearly impossible for you to focus on anything but minjeong.

“you okay?” natty knocked on the door lightly, voice laced with concern.

you cleared your throst before quickly wiping your tears away. “yeah, i’m fine.”

there was silence aside from the last few notes you played of the song, shoulders slumping as you finished. but you didn’t hear any retreating footsteps so you knew that she was still there.

“i got julie’s number.” she spoke in a rather annoying tone.

you laughed through the tears, shaking your head but still grateful that she could get you to show any kind of happiness in your current state.

“ew. go away.” you smiled, standing up and focusing your attention on your phone that was buzzing with a flurry of messages.

jeongie 🧍‍♀️

i’m sorry y/n

jeongie 🧍‍♀️

my mom made me help her with dinner so i couldn’t come out tonight :(

jeongie 🧍‍♀️

i’ll be at the show tomorrow, i promise

you sighed, feeling the familiar ache creeping into your chest once more. but how could you even be upset?

‘it’s okay, things happen ❤️’

was all you typed in response.

you swore that you heard the message sent noise from your window, eyebrows knitted together as you opened the window to investigate it.

as you saw that there was no one and nothing there, you knew that it was time for bed.

but what you didn’t know is that minjeong was there, watching you with a heavy heart.

she was just too scared to say anything.

you paced back and forth in the back of the stage, chewing at the inside of your cheek.

there were all kinda of different noises that emerged from the practice rooms and wings of the auditorium, making you even more anxious.

“y/n, you’re worrying for nothing.” natty took your hand into her own, running soothing circles onto your knuckles.

your breath was shaky, checking your phone almost every two minutes.

“minjeong still isn’t here.” you spoke with an unsteady voice, inching closer to your sister to receive more of her comfort.

natty sighed, wrapping her arms around you for a gentle hug. she caressed your back in attempt to calm your nerves more. she wasn��t one hundred percent confident of what was going on between you and your best friend but she had an idea.

“she’ll show up.” with that sentence she broke the hug, caressing the sides of your arms and fixing your hair. “you look so beautiful. mom would love to see you right now.”

you took a deep breath, eventually giving natty a courageous smile with the motivation of her words. “okay.”

“you okay now?” she double checked, and even though you nodded you didn’t feel okay yet.

“i’m gonna get some fresh air.” you infotmed her.

“be quick. they’re about to start and you’re the third act.” she warned, following you off the stage to catch the seat that julie was saving her.

on the way out you received a concerned look from her as yeonjun practically begged for her attention, only being shoved in the shoulder by her stanley. you stifled a laugh, pushing the heavy doors open and being met with the fresh air.

it was calming if you ignored the occasional sound of loud music, sirens, and car horns.

they grew progressively louder with each passing second and you couldn’t help but grow curious, taking a few steps so you could get a proper look at the scene.

you squinted to really see what was going on, walking further into the scene when you abruptly saw a car get launched into a strong man with a green suit on.

your eyes widened as it flew past you, making your first instinct to run as the ambulance had begun to be manipulated as well. all you heard was someone yelling out your name before everything else happened to quickly.

a silent scream left your lungs as you were suddenly lifted off of the ground and in the arms of spider-man himself, with the superhero and supervillain taking a newfound interest in you.

“are you insane?” the masked superhero asked you, making you furrow your eyebrows while you tried to process what just happened.

the green suit man seemed to grow jealous of how much attention you were receiving from his foe, making you his new target. “is that your girlfriend?” he spoke in a mocking tone.

the hero groaned, ignoring your protests to swing you to a nearby rooftop and out of everyone’s sight before setting you down gently.

then they shot out a web, saying one last thing before disappearing. “just stay here, okay? please. i can’t lose you.” you were extremely confused but who were you to refuse what the superhero was telling you to do?

you were y/n, of course.

“who are you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“i’m spider—“ within milliseconds the hero was gone again, swinging through the city and leaving you with the loud fan that overpowered your thoughts.

“this stupid ass superhero. i have a talent show i can’t miss.” you grumbled, walking to the door so you could enter the building.

it ended up being locked, and with pure determination you tried to bash your way inside with no avail.

“i hate spiderman.” you crossed your arms, looking around for any other chance to get out. you had left your phone with natty so there was no possible way to phone anyone for help.

but the sake of figuring out their secret identity, you stayed put. this was someone that cared about you from what you deducted.

and in less than ten minutes the hero was back, relieved to find you in one piece where they left you.

“who are you?” you demanded again, not even giving them a chance to speak before asking your question.

they laughed, crossing their arms. “what happened to ‘thank you for saving my life spiderman?’ civilians are so ungrateful these days.”

you rolled your eyes, clearly not amused by their lame attempt at humor. “answer my question.”

they continued to stall, trying to find any excuse to beat around the bush. “you look like you’re dressed for an occasion. what is it? birthday party or funeral?”

you grumbled, pursing your lips into a thin line and crossing your arms. “no!”

“grocery run?”

“no.”

“school talent show?”

“no — wait, how did you know?”

“cause i’m spiderman.”

“ugh, i know that already!” you groaned. “take your mask off. i already know who you are anyway.” you bluffed.

“you… do?”

“um, yeah.”

“fuck.” you heard them whisper. you had to fight back the laugh pleading to escape your throat, committing to the lie.

“so you might as well take the mask off.” you spoke in a convincing tone, shrugging your shoulders in a nonchalant manner.

it was deafening silent and when you looked back up the mask was off, revealing the person you would’ve least expected to see.

“minjeong?”

her cheeks were flushed a light tint of red. “you said that you knew who i was!”

“i was lying!” you argued.

she sighed, playing with the piercing using her teeth. this was the hard part for her.

“i apologize, y/n. i wanted to tell you for a while now but i just couldn’t find the right time.” minjeong’s voice trembled slightly.

this scared her. she wasn’t sure how you would react to the news or if you would even still want anything to do with her after this conversation.

“i don’t know what i thought. i didn’t know why you kept disappearing but i would’ve never guessed this.” you replied.

“i don’t want to hide anything from you anymore. i’ve been hiding too much from you.”

“…this isn’t the only thing?”

she stayed silence for a moment, avoiding your gaze and swallowing the lump in her throat.

“my biggest fear is putting you in danger.” minjeong started. “putting you in danger and losing what we have. you’re my best friend and i’ve loved you for so long that i — i was just really scared.” her hands were trembling slightly.

the look on her face told you that she was terrified but you just smiled a bit, feeling the giddy sensation in your stomach.

“you love me?”

minjeong bit her lip. “yeah?”

you laughed shakily, a soft yet vulnerable smile dancing onto your lips. “so you did really want a date.”

“i still do.” your contagious smile triggered her own. “i mean, i’m down to reschedule if you are…”

“promise you’ll be on time and won’t stand me up this time?”

“yeah. i promise.” minjeong grinned from ear to ear.

“i guess, then. but i’m still mad at you for keeping this a secret and standing me up.”

she let out a light chuckle. “that’s fair enough this time.”

“speaking of on time, i believe you have an event to make it to.”

your eyes widened, a gasp escaping your lips. how could you have forgotten so quickly?

“it’s a shame that you don’t have a ride… or a swing.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re so impossible.”

she walked over to you, taking your hand into her own before bringing you close. “am i really impossible for trying to protect my favorite person? i just don’t want to lose you. ever.”

you brought your arms to her middle, making her blush at the close contact.

“you won’t. i’m not going anywhere without you.”

minjeong smiled, slinging out a web and examining your facial expression. “ready? i’ll be gentle this time, i have precious cargo.”

“less talking, more swinging.”

taglist — @saysirhc @aedollie @prologue-ae

#telepathy — kim minjeong #aespa #aespa kim minjeong #aespa x fem reader #aespa imagines #aespa minjeong #aespa winter #kim minjeong #kim minjeong x reader #winter x reader #wlw #kpop gg x reader #kpop imagines

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dollbrbie · 23 hours ago

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♡ ⸝⸝ THE BREAKUP

cw. fratboy isagi, so so so angsty, isagi really gets his feelings hurt :(

“i think we should break up.”

isagi gives a slight huff, “it’s not funny when you say things like that.”

you breath in, “i’m not joking, isagi.”

he turns around to face you, currently sat on his bed with your brows pinched together slightly. it was clear you had been thinking about something.

“what’s going on, baby?”, he asks, his tone more concerned.

you debated telling him the truth, making yourself look like a fool and having isagi so easily convince you that you’re wrong. he’s too reassuring like that.

ever since you heard everyone say you weren’t good enough for him, that you were too mean, too much for someone like isagi, it just kept playing on your mind like an endless loop, causing you to second guess yourself over and over.

because as much as you hate to admit it, they were right. you were mean, way too mean for a guy like isagi. he’s so sweet and genuine with not a nasty bone in his body. he deserves to be treated like a king, to have a girlfriend adore him just as much as he adores you.

but were you really that? are you really giving him everything he truly deserves?

“i just don’t think.. we’re really working out.”, you sigh.

he frowns, “you don’t think that at all. why’re you saying this?”, the hurt evident in his voice.

and that hurts you.

“isagi, stop.”

he doesn’t.

“no. tell me why you’re saying this. you’re not throwing our whole relationship away because in your eyes we’re suddenly ‘not working out’.”, he explains with air quotes, “you don’t get to say that without some explanation, it’s fucked up.”

you wish he just made it easier for you, to just accept this. but now having to rip the bandaid off you say, “fine then. i just don’t want to be with you anymore.”

there’s a long pause where isagi just processes what you say, “you don’t mean that.”, he whimpers, his eyes glossy.

of course you didn’t mean that. god, the look on his face hurt you more than anything, your own heart heavy. that’s when you knew you had really hurt his feelings and that’s the last thing you ever wanted to do. but, this was in isagi’s best interest.. right?

“i do.”, you whisper, you eyes down as you fiddle with your fingers, sat cross cross on his bed.

“why? what did i do? i can fix it, baby. whatever i did, i can fix it.”, isagi pleas frantically, scurrying closer to you by sitting on the edge of his bed, “please, just tell me.”

“you can’t, isagi. just stop it, okay?”, you sigh, getting up from his bed before grabbing your bag and packing up the few essentials you had in his room, “we just aren’t working, that’s it.”

“no- i just, i don’t understand what i did.”, he swallows, “i thought- i thought you loved me. i love you.”

you feel your bottom lip tremble. this felt like kicking a sweet puppy who kept running back to you.

you don’t say anything, in fear of losing composure and crying your heart out. so, you carry on packing your things, muting out isagi’s frantic pleas and breaking voice despite how hard it was, before rushing out of his room to get back to your own dorm, leaving him alone where everything felt too silent besides his thumping heartbeat.

and that’s when he felt the tears fall from his eyes, and down his cheeks. isagi wasn’t a crier, not at all. but, here he was, crying over you as you leave him with no closure, no nothing. without the answers you couldn’t give him, all he could do was wonder what the hell went so wrong. what the hell made you leave him so suddenly?

with all of his thoughts going rampant in his mind, isagi mutters, “fuck, man.”

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stellamarielu · 2 days ago

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late night visits

michael robinavitch x female reader

summary: somehow your neighbor is always finding himself at your front door hoping to find relief through casual hookups, but you both can’t deny your feelings any longer

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, mutual pining, oral f!receiving, mention of an age gap because i can’t help myself, just dr robby having a realization of feelings while going down on you

author’s note: told y’all i was gonna write some dr robby smut!! like usual, it didn’t feel right to jump right in with nasty jaw dropping smut so here’s a little fluffy— but still saucy, hookup drabble with the hunkiest emergency doctor i know

Michael Robinavitch was your neighbor.

Your apartment doors faced each other which lead to many casual exchanges and brief interactions.

They started off innocent; shy waves and polite smiles.

Then, they turned into conversations about what each of you did for a living and how long you’d lived in the city— just a culmination of small talk and harmless banter that took place in the little hallway of your apartment building.

But then, after weeks of coy chitchatting outside of your front doors, your exchanges escalated.

Your conversations with Robby had turned into hushed moans and deep throaty groans as his hands gripped furiously at your hips while he thrusted into you after an exhausting day at work.

The first time you tested the waters of shared desire was a little over a month ago. You spontaneously invited him over to join you for dinner as he was getting home from work. Neither of you thought much about it. It felt like a simple invitation to get to know a new-ish neighbor. Just a friendly meeting over a quick meal, but it turned out to be something entirely different.

That evening ended with his calloused hands greedily sliding up your body with your back pressed against a wall.

Both of you were stewing with pent-up frustration and using the other for an easy thoughtless release.

The next time you found yourself underneath his body was just as unexpected but far more impassioned.

He had knocked on your door, his expression unsure yet somehow laced with anticipation when you answered.

He started trying to make up some excuse as to why he was interrupting your nighttime routine until you pulled him into your apartment, meeting his lips with your own in a hurried and desperate kiss.

It continued like that for weeks, late night visits full of eager touches and sinful craving.

The exact nature of your relationship was unclear. You just found one another for physical connection, never getting in too deep or finding meaning in your dubiously satisfying meetings.

But, of course you had feelings for the guy, he had his dick buried in you on a nightly basis. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

You couldn’t help but assume he saw you as a quick fuck— an easy way to detach from his day in a bout of vulgar connection.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Sure, the first time had been because Robby needed a distraction. You were just stood there, cooking a meal for him and listening intently as he told you about his profession. You were completely enthralled with him, your lips turning up into a cute little smile, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that; let alone a beautiful woman nearly half his age. It was almost criminal how fast he gave into temptation, letting himself get a taste of you through hungry kisses and tainted intentions.

After that he became addicted to you.

He even found himself thinking about you at work— a place that didn’t allow more than a sliver of space in his mind to think about anything other than the task at hand, yet you occupied nearly every corner of it.

So he kept showing up— kept seeking you out in hopes that he could stay high on your presence long enough to stay satisfied before getting the next inevitable taste.

You seemed to enjoy the unspoken arrangement. He didn’t want to ruin anything with the complication feelings and exclusivity. Plus, he was a busy man, relationships never seemed to work well for him, so maybe this situation was for the best.

But now, his face was buried between your legs, and he peered up to find your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen something so picturesque. So undeniably perfect.

“God, You’re beautiful.” His voice was a hum against your skin as he stopped to place a sloppy kiss on the inside of your thigh along with his words.

Your fingers tightened into his hair as his mouth hungrily worked at your core.

You opened your eyes to glance down at him, unsure of how to take his compliment while he was busy doing such lewd things to you.

He caught the silly grin on your lips at his words— so pure and gentle. The innocent curve of your mouth only made him want more. He gently grabbed at your thighs, spreading them even further.

The soft moan of approval slipping from your tongue had an involuntary groan breaking from his chest.

With every sweet sound off your lips he dived deeper into you. His mouth was expertly working you toward your release, and just as you felt the pressure getting ready to snap, he pulled away.

He rested between your legs, his torso propped up just enough to get a good look at you.

“Let’s grab a bite to eat after this.” His statement came out in a breathless whisper. It seemed more like a question with the way his eyes were looking up, watching intently.

You tried to hide the giggle that at your lips as a small smile took over your expression.

What on earth prompted him to bring this up while he had you on the verge of coming undone on his tongue?

But also, why was it so sweet? The way his words held such sincerity felt extremely intimate.

“Just- I want to take you out somewhere.” His grin was wide as he watched you react to his ill-timed inquiry.

He knew it was late and maybe you wouldn’t be interested, but he couldn’t help but ask.

Watching your back arch under his touch and hearing your sweet whimpers fill his ears had him losing his patience.

He needed more of you.

Needed it so badly that he was stopping himself from tasting your sweet release just to ask for more of your time. The two of you were only ever together in a dimly lit apartments under bed sheets, he wanted to go out with you; somewhere different, somewhere new. He wanted to take you to grab a coffee down the street at that place that stays open until 2am. He wanted to ask you questions about yourself and watch you smile while you talked— to see the sweet curve of your lips that he'd grown so attached to.

Maybe he wasn’t much of a relationship guy, but he couldn’t deny the feelings he harbored for you.

“Like a date?” You were leaning back on your elbows with your eyebrows raised subtly at his suggestion.

“Yeah, a date.”

“Ok Robby. I’ll go on a date with you.” Your smirk met his idiotic grin as he dove back down, satisfied by your answer.

He resumed his previous actions with a fervor of victory.

“Perfect.” The word was messy as it left his lips and landed directly on your core.

It wasn’t long before your body was tensing, and mumbled profanities filled the room at your release. Even though you had just finished on his tongue, you weren’t done. You wanted to let him fuck you into the sheets, to repay him for getting you off, but he refused. No— he was determined to follow through on his promise.

The two of you walked side by side to grab a coffee at nearly midnight; you laughing and him watching, as he got to know you outside of the walls of your apartment.

#i feel like this is something he would do idk #a date (and a fuck) with dr robby would cure me #man of my dreams fr #michael robinavitch #the pitt #dr robby #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch smut #dr robby smut #the pitt fanfiction

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2cupids · 20 hours ago

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cw! pervert!satoru, semi-public, cumming inside, assplay. mdni (17+).

pervy yoga instructor!gojo whose bright and outgoing personality has brought him a large following. pair that with his good looks and it’s made him one of the most followed yoga teachers in the country. his classes are always in high demand, with people coming from all over just for one class. it’s not uncommon having to book a class months in advance sometimes and wait in the queue for the next available spot, especially in the spring and summer months.

but masked behind his good looks and charm, lies a twisted mind of perversion. he’s constantly trapped in a room with women of all shapes and sizes; it's like he’s a kid in a candy shop who can take his pick from the wide ranging selection whenever he wants without the risk of ever being caught.

his sharp eyes pick up any and everyone whose form is improper while watching the women get in position, quickly walking over to each one to fix it. his smooth voice flows through the room as he speaks into the mic next to his mouth, instructing people to tighten up their form, now noticing the even larger number of women who are doing it wrong.

of course no one bats an eye at what looks to be gojo just being a helpful and attentive teacher as he goes around to help and he knows it. but his true intentions are much deeper than just placing a hand on a woman’s lower back to help adjust her posture.

what no one knows is how excited he gets as his fingertips gently touch the material of her yoga top or pants, and if he’s lucky, sometimes her exposed skin. any position where a woman’s ass is in the air or that exposes some cleavage is undoubtedly his favorite. and he always manages to conveniently position himself at the front or back of the room during these positions, wherever the view is the best from honestly.

obviously many women throw themselves at him, from bored housewives to young college students, even the older women who come to keep their bodies healthy. he always politely declines, much to everyone’s dismay, which earns him many groans and displeased looks thrown his way as he gives them that handsome smile and thanks them for finding him attractive.

satoru gojo isn’t looking for a relationship or even a fling, at most he just wants a one time thing. if he’s being honest though, he’s far more content with continuing to appear as an unassuming man to hide his deeply rooted deviant mind. a man that goes home and fervently fists his cock while flipping through every perverted memory and thought.

that is until you come around. now he wants nothing more than to feel your body against his, no matter what it takes.

you’re a fresh face he notices in his class one day but he tries not to pay you too much attention, knowing how sad he’ll be if you happen not to come back and he doesn’t get to ogle that beautiful body of yours anymore. so when you begin to make regular appearances, he’s more than just thrilled, he’s ecstatic.

during class, his eyes not only flicker towards you more than any other woman in the room as he speaks, but they linger on your body longer as he makes his way around the class, too. often times he’ll find any excuse to touch you even though your form doesn’t need the slightest bit of fixing. the women with keen senses pick up on the small details that most normal people would overlook when it comes to gojo and his attention. you’re suddenly given unwelcomed looks of spite from them, completely unaware that they’re jealous you’ve caught the hot yoga instructor’s eye instead of them.

it’s not until one day as you’re rolling up your mat that you’re suddenly aware of the special liking gojo has taken to you. you’re the last one left in the room with him and he approaches you, appearing to make small talk with you, but his glances at your breast don’t go unnoticed. after a few minutes, he lets you go and wishes you a nice afternoon, but not before he lets his hand go to your back as you’re about to walk away.

the next few classes go by without incident and gojo starts to think he won’t get his way after all, maybe he should’ve just given into one of the other dumb broads in the first place. he’s starting to feel dejected and seeing you regularly only makes him feel worse. soon, he’s back to his usual self though, showing every woman in the class an equal amount of attention again, telling himself to give up and forget you.

weeks later, you find yourself to be the last one to leave class again today.

now, the way everything went down from that point is up for debate, depending on who’s asked, gojo or yourself. the only thing that’s not up for debate right now is how gojo’s got you pressed up against the mirror in the studio with your back nicely arched as satoru digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass which is sure to leave marks, keeping your cheeks spread wide so he can watch his cock disappear into your juicy pussy with each thrust.

condensation fogs up the area of the mirror where your face is pressed to the glass, eyes shut as gojo’s deep voice tells you all the dirty thoughts he’s had of you. an opaque white ring clings to the base of gojo’s pale dick, a result of your juices leaking onto his shaft from the constant friction. deep blue eyes glance up at your pretty and fucked out face, taking in the sight of you.

you’re really all his at this moment. submitting your entire self to him, letting him use you to his liking just like a fuck toy. without even realizing it, his hips come to an involuntarily halt as spurts of hot cum shoot into your pussy making your soft walls flutter around him.

gojo doesn’t go soft, he’s still extremely hard and ready for more, so without another thought he wastes no time in maneuvering both your bodies onto the floor, manhandling you into a perfect position for fucking that he’s taught in class before.

the fat tip pokes at your slick lips for the second time as he starts round two. he spits on your puckered asshole before slipping his thick thumb inside while roughly snapping his hips into your supple flesh.

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bjwmastermind-writes · 1 day ago

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his assistant ~ harry castillo x f! reader

A/N: I had this idea about him and it completely stopped all my uni reading so I put away the pdfs and got to writing this beauty. I was kicking at my feet giggling and screeching aaaaaaaaa

warnings: age gap (early twenties reader, mid forties older boss harry), workplace relationship / power dynamics (boss × assistant), alcohol, smut, fingering, oral sex (f! receiver), unprotected sex. Let me know if I've forgotten any warnings so I can add them.

minors dni ~ minors do not interact with this fic or my blog. I am not responsible for your consumption.

do not copy, translate or claim this story as your own.

Your day consisted of running after Harry. He was a busy man—and by extension, you were a busy assistant.

You’d landed this job thanks to a mentor’s referral letter, and you were forever grateful. It had changed your life: no more night shifts while trying to finish your bachelor's degree.

Harry was a reserved man, at first he didn’t talk much, but he had a sharp sense of humor. Over time, you’d learned how to read him, and together, you'd become a solid team.

He thought your work was exceptional. You were dedicated—sometimes too dedicated. If he stayed at the office all night, you stayed too, just in case he needed something. He told you more than once to go home, but you rarely listened.

Lately, he'd started dating again. That meant working out a lot. Sometimes you'd catch him right after a run, sweatshirt soaked through. It was hard to focus on your notes when he looked like that.

He didn’t need to work out. He was already unfairly attractive—but of course, you didn’t say that. Not your place.

You tossed a towel at him, which he caught midair. He peeled off the drenched sweatshirt, revealing the results of his dedication. Either he was too comfortable with you now, or he'd forgotten you were still in the room.

“Fucking hell.”

He turned toward you, raising an eyebrow.

You quickly held up your phone. “This thing just froze. Fucking hell.”

He nodded, and you prayed the earth would swallow you whole.

But he knew what you meant.

__________________________

It was late at the office. The only two people left were you and Harry. He sat at his large desk, fingers flying across the keyboard, though he kept glancing your way.

You were focused on your phone, scheduling appointments, replying to emails. He liked watching you when you were focused—your scrunched nose, the way you bit your lip when you made a mistake. How you always tucked your hair behind your ear like it helped you concentrate. To him, it just gave him a perfect view of your neck—like a subtle invitation to that sweet spot close to your ear.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked.

You looked up, caught off guard. “Uhm... no? I had an oatmeal bar a few hours ago.”

He frowned. He hated how often you skipped meals because of work—because of him.

“Don’t worry,” you added. “Go home. I’ll grab a salad or something later.”

“I was thinking,” he interrupted, “we could get dinner. Together.”

You blinked. “You want to have dinner... with me?”

“We spend the whole day together. Don’t see the issue with having dinner, too.”

You hesitated. “Wouldn’t that get me into trouble? I mean... HR?”

“I’m the boss,” he said. “You won’t get into any trouble. It’s a friendly invitation.”

You considered it. Honestly, you were starving—and if you waited any longer, your stomach would probably start growling audibly.

“Sure. Why not,” you shrugged, grabbing your jacket and slinging your purse over your shoulder.

You followed him into a fancy restaurant. The kind with low lights, gold accents, and a wine list thicker than a Bible. You resisted the urge to take out your phone for a picture.

A waitress led you to your table before disappearing. Harry pulled out your chair for you. You murmured a shy thank-you to which he hummed.

He sat across from you and you observed how he got comfortable taking off his jacket.

Harry handed you the menu, but you were too aware of everything—the ambient jazz, the soft clinking of cutlery, still trying to process this entire situation—being out with him, in public, like this. It’s not like you hadn’t been in public with him before, you were constantly in public but the dynamic was different. you weren’t there holding his jacket while he had dinner with someone else, or sitting at the bar or a different table to keep an eye if needed. No, you were sitting with him at the fancy restaurant.

Moments later, a tall brunette waitress appeared. Thin smile. Sharp eyes.

"Can I get you something to drink while you decide?" she asked, not once looking in your direction. She flipped her hair as she awaited his response.

Your brows lifted slightly. Harry noticed.

He didn’t blink. “We’ll take the house Cabernet. Two glasses.”

That’s when she looked at you—finally. One long, assessing glance. Then a bright smile aimed only at him.

“Oh,” she said innocently. “Is she even of legal drinking age?”

You stiffened. Your hand tightened around the edge of the table.

You were ready to correct her. “Actually, I’m his—”

But Harry’s tone cut through first. Calm. Controlled. No smile.

“She’s my partner, actually.”

The waitress blinked. Her face held a flicker of something before she masked it with another sweet smile.

“Right,” she said slowly, lingering a second too long. “I just—thought she was your daughter at first. That’s all.” She gave him a wink like it was a private joke.

You opened your mouth, fully ready to set her on fire with words— Are you always this unprofessional, or am I just lucky tonight?

But Harry reached across the table, fingers brushing your hand lightly. Just enough to anchor you.

“She’ll have the same wine as me,” he added firmly, not breaking eye contact with the waitress. “Thank you.”

The message was clear: You can go now.

She hesitated—then turned, heels clicking sharply as she walked away.

You looked at him. “Partner?” you whispered, incredulous. “Castillo, what the fuck was that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry—would you rather I let her mock you as my child or my assistant?”

“But I am your assistant.”

“And I wasn’t about to let her reduce you to that. Not when you’re sitting here with me.”

You opened your mouth again—then closed it. Your cheeks burned.

“Just say thank you,” he added, voice low. “Or gracias.”

“…Gracias,” you muttered, still glaring at the now-empty space where the waitress stood.

A few minutes passed in silence as you both read the menu. Then you snorted.

Harry looked up. “What?”

“Sorry, just—the idea of being your partner,” you said, covering your mouth to hide your grin. Good joke. Will never happen.

“Why is that funny? Am I that bad-looking?”

“No! It’s just... me? Being with you? Me?”

“Well, you’re not bad-looking either. I don’t see the humor.”

“Thanks... I guess.”

“I mean—you’re gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. Hell, I’d be lucky, if I wasn’t older.”

You blinked. Thought you’d misheard. But before you could ask, he was waving the waitress back to take your order.

She returned a few minutes later, two wine glasses in hand and a bottle tucked expertly in the crook of her arm. This time, she had no choice but to acknowledge you.

She set Harry’s glass down smoothly. Then yours, with a forced politeness that made you want to laugh.

"Well," you said under your breath, watching her walk away stiffly. "She doesn’t seem like quite a fan of me."

Harry smirked. “You think?”

“She looked like she wanted to throw the wine in my face.”

“I wouldn’t let her waste the good stuff.”

The wine ritual followed, soft and flirtatious. He swirled his glass and held it near your face.

"Swirl first," he said softly. "Let it breathe. Then smell. But don’t shove your nose in like a rookie.”

You chuckled. “So you’re a sommelier now?”

“No, I just have taste.”

You mirrored him. Swirled. Smelled. Sipped.

“Any notes?” he asked, lips curled in amusement.

"Yeah. Grapes," you deadpanned.

He laughed, eyes crinkling—and for a second, it felt like there were no titles between you. No roles. Just two people. Sitting across from each other. Maybe on the verge of something stupid, or something real.

The wine helped. So did the food.

The waitress returned with two beautifully plated dishes and the thinnest layer of civility. She set Harry’s plate down with practiced ease, then yours with stiff politeness. Her jaw was tight. She didn’t say a word this time.

When she walked away, you finally exhaled.

Harry raised his glass slightly toward you. “To surviving the service industry.”

You clinked his glass with yours, managing a small laugh. But your mind wasn’t really on the food. Or the wine. Or the waitress.

It was still on him.

Specifically: “Hell, I’d be lucky… if I wasn’t older.”

He said it so casually. Like it wasn’t a confession. Like it wasn’t driving you quietly insane.

You watched him from across the table as he cut into his steak—calm, focused, unbothered. How was he always like this? Controlled. Grounded. Like nothing ever rattled him.

You bit your lip and stabbed at your salad.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a moment.

“I’m eating,” you replied, a little too fast.

He raised a brow. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

You shrugged, trying not to overthink it. “Just... still running through what she said, I guess.”

He studied you for a second. “Let it go. She’s not worth that much space in your head.”

“That’s not—” You paused. “It’s not about her.”

Harry leaned back slightly, his eyes still on you. “Then what is it?”

You hesitated. Then took a sip of your wine, buying time.

“If I wasn’t older…”

That’s what it was, that damn line.

You swallowed, not just the wine, but the way your heart seemed to lurch every time you replayed it.

“It’s stupid,” you said finally. “Forget it.”

“I won’t,” he replied. “You don’t usually get this flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” you lied.

He smirked, tilting his head. “Right.”

You poked at your food again. Then quietly you proceeded “So what did you mean?”

He looked at you, serious now. No smirk. No tease.

“I meant what I said.”

“About the age thing?”

He nodded. “I try not to think about it, but yeah. Sometimes I wonder if I’d cross a line just by wanting more than I should.”

Silence.

Then, softer: “And what happened on Monday didn’t help.”

You stared at him confused. “What happened on Monday?”

He held your gaze. “You tossed a towel at me. I took my shirt off. And you said, fucking hell.”

Your eyes widened. “I said it because—”

“I know why,” he said. Still calm. Still steady. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind.”

You stared at your plate, the flush spreading to your neck.

He added, voice barely above the hum of the restaurant

“I think about it too. You. More than I should.”

You didn’t answer.

But you didn’t need to.

Because when he reached across the table—just for a moment, just to brush your hand with his fingers again—you didn’t pull away.

_____________________________

The air outside was cooler than you expected. Or maybe it was just the heat still clinging to your skin from the conversation.

Harry walked a few steps ahead, hands in his pockets, silent. He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk near the curb. The night stretched around you both—quiet, electric.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, not facing you. “If I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You blinked. “What?”

He turned, finally looking at you. “At the table. I shouldn’t have said that—about thinking about you. Or the age thing. It wasn’t appropriate.”

You stepped closer. “Harry—”

“If it put you in a weird position, I—”

You didn’t let him finish. You closed the distance, grabbed the lapel of his coat, and pressed a kiss to his lips. His mustache grazed your skin, warm and soft and just rough enough to make your breath catch.

He didn’t kiss back at first. He just froze, lips parted under yours, like his brain hadn’t caught up yet.

Then, slowly, his hand came up—fingertips grazing your waist as if to make sure you were real.

You started to pull away, panic bubbling in your chest.

Shit, shit! What did I just do?

But he caught you and kissed you back. Not rushed. Not messy. Just steady, grounded, certain. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been holding back for too long—and now, the dam had cracked.

When you finally broke apart, you stayed close, your breath still caught between you.

He looked at you like he was trying to piece together what just happened. And you looked right back. Not saying anything, just holding his gaze.

Yes.

That happened just now.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d crossed a line,” he murmured. His voice was low. Honest.

“I crossed it for you,” you said.

His lips twitched—barely. Like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how to yet. He stared at you like you were some puzzle he’d never expected to solve.

Then, without another word, he took a step back and held out his hand.

You didn’t hesitate.

_______________________

The silence in the car wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Full.

You sat there, lips still tingling, eyes on the window. The city blurred past in soft golds and blues.

Neon signs flickered. A woman smoked on a balcony. A dog pulling its owner across a crosswalk. A man hailed a cab. Life was still happening—but all you could feel was him.

His presence beside you. His warmth in the space between the seats. The echo of his mouth on yours.

You tilted your head, eyes tracing the curve of the moon through the window. It followed you quietly, like it knew. Like it saw everything.

Every red light glowed too long. Every block felt like a held breath.

He gripped the wheel tighter than usual. Jaw tense. He checked his mirrors often, but it was clear he wasn’t really seeing anything. His jaw worked silently, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview, like any movement might pull him out of the moment.

You kept quiet. Let the silence stretch.

Finally, his voice broke through the quiet. Low. Controlled.

“I meant what I said.”

You turned your head slowly. “Which part?”

He glanced at you, just once.

“All of it.”

You held his gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then looked away, smiling just a little.

“Good.”

You finally made it to his building. He pulled into the underground garage, the soft hum of the engine echoing off the concrete walls.

He parked in his usual spot. You recognized it—you’d been here before. Dropped off folders, laptops, contracts he forgot in the office. Walked these exact halls with purpose, never pausing. Always professional. Always business.

But this time?

This time you didn’t have a file in your hands. You weren’t on a clock. You weren’t his assistant.

You were just you.

And that changed everything.

He turned off the engine, but neither of you moved for a second. You could feel the air shift. Not heavier—closer.

He got out of the car without another word, the door shutting quietly behind him. A few seconds later, your door opened—and there he was, standing beside you like it was nothing.

He looked at you. “You coming?”

You nodded once. “Yeah.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t moved.

You were still sitting there, fingers lightly pressed against your thigh, your body catching up to what your heart had already decided.

He didn’t rush you.

Just waited. One hand resting on the open door, the other in his coat pocket, his eyes on you like he could see the entire storm happening behind your stillness.

You exhaled slowly. Then you stood.

His gaze followed you as you stepped out of the car, close enough to feel the warmth of his body in the chill of the garage.

No words. Just the soft click of the door closing behind you.

You followed him to the elevator.

________________________

The elevator opened into the apartment directly.

You stepped in first. You’d been here before, of course—several times. Late-night contract drop-offs. Files he forgot in the office. You knew the layout by heart, knew the scent of the place, even the way the light curved in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

But you’d never walked in like this.

Not without an agenda or a deadline.

Not as a guest.

And suddenly, the space felt different.

It wasn’t sterile or cold like you used to tell yourself. No sleek, lonely bachelor energy. No leather-and-glass cliché.

It was warm.

Low lighting. Art on the walls. A worn leather chair near the window, a record player spinning soft jazz in the corner. Shelves with actual books, not props. A thick wool throw draped over the couch. A scent like cedarwood and something expensive lingered in the air.

“Wow,” you breathed, almost instinctively.

Harry loosened his tie. “You’ve seen it before.”

You looked at him. “Yeah, but not like this.”

He held your gaze a second longer, then nodded. “Fair.”

He disappeared into the kitchen briefly, came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. This bottle looked different—older, deeper colored.

“Private collection?” you teased.

“Something like that.” He poured carefully, then handed you a glass.

You swirled it. “Swirl, breathe, smell... sip?”

He smiled again, slower this time. “You remembered.”

You sipped. You could feel his gaze linger on your mouth.

“It’s really good,” you said, clearing your throat.

He stood in front of you, not close enough to touch—but enough that you felt it. The gravity of him. The silence stretching between you again.

He stayed standing across from you for a moment, sleeves rolled up, the top buttons of his shirt undone now. You watched him, your glass warm in your hand.

Neither of you said a word.

But everything was being said.

You stepped toward him at the same time he stepped toward you. The shared gravity was inevitable.

He reached out first, not to kiss you again, but to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His knuckles grazed your cheek, and it made your breath catch.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He smiled, something half-there. “Not sure.”

You were close enough now that you could feel the heat of his chest through the thin barrier of space left between you. His hand lingered at your waist. Yours found his wrist, thumb tracing the veins beneath his skin.

You weren’t sure who moved first this time. Maybe both.

The kiss was quieter now. Slower. Less urgent, more intentional. Like you were both realizing there was no clock ticking. No one to interrupt. No need to hold back.

When he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you kept your eyes closed. Let the silence wrap around you.

“I wasn’t planning this,” he murmured.

“I know,” you said. “Me neither.”

But neither of you moved away.

You barely noticed how close you’d gotten until your glass tilted slightly, the wine catching the rim. A splash landed on his shirt, dark red soaking into crisp white.

“Shit,” you whispered, pulling back. “I didn’t mean to—”

Harry glanced down. Then up at you, completely unfazed.

“It was coming off anyway,” he said simply, already working the buttons open with one hand.

You stood frozen for a beat too long, your wine forgotten.

He peeled off the shirt and tossed it onto the back of a nearby chair. His torso was lean, toned in a way that only comes from quiet consistency—not vanity, just discipline. His skin was warm under the golden lighting, a scattering of freckles across his shoulders.

You cleared your throat, trying to remember how to function.

He looked at you again, this time slower. “You okay?”

“I will be if you stop looking at me like that,” you murmured, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like you already know what’s going to happen.”

He stepped closer again. “I don’t,” he said softly. “That’s kind of the best part.”

He took your glass and set it aside—carefully—then turned back to you.

His eyes were darker now. Focused.

He wanted your full attention.

He gripped your waist and pulled you closer, his touch no longer tentative. Confident. Sure. With one movement, he shifted your weight, guiding you until your legs wrapped around him instinctively.

He walked—slow but deliberate—until your back met the wall.

The kiss broke for only a second, just long enough for you to catch your breath.

Then it came crashing back—furious now. Hungry. His mouth on yours like he’d been waiting all night to be this unrestrained.

Your hands tangled in his hair, fingers tugging just hard enough to make him groan against your lips. He pressed into you, anchoring you to the wall, one hand exploring the curve of your hip, the other trailing along your ribs, steady but searching.

He kissed like he knew you—like every inhale, every tilt of your head, was familiar already. Like he didn’t want to stop.

And neither did you.

He pulled back just long enough to catch your breath—his lips parted, his chest rising with yours in sync.

And then he moved.

He didn’t say a word, just adjusted his grip on your thighs and carried you across the room. You tightened your legs around his waist instinctively, fingers still tangled in his hair as he walked the two of you toward the bedroom.

You weren’t sure when your shirt came off. Somewhere between the hallway and the doorway, between kisses along your neck and soft, breathless gasps you couldn’t hold back.

He dropped it on the floor like it had never mattered, and by the time you reached the bed, all that was left between you and the sheets was skin and heat and a thousand quiet yeses.

He set you down gently. Like he knew this wasn’t just about desire—it was about something else. Something you both hadn’t dared name yet.

But right now?

You didn’t need a name.

You needed him.

He laid you down gently, like he didn’t want to rush—like he wanted to memorize every second of this.

And then he hovered above you, just for a breath. His eyes swept over you—bare skin, flushed cheeks, your mouth still parted from the last kiss.

You felt his fingertips brush the side of your neck, slow, reverent. His gaze followed the motion like he’d traced this path a hundred times in his head.

And then he leaned in.

His lips brushed just beneath your jaw first—soft, careful. Then lower. Warmer. His breath fanned over the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and your pulse jumped.

You felt it coming before it happened.

That spot.

That one spot—right behind your ear, the one he always glanced at when you’d shift your hair during long office days. The one that always felt too exposed when you wore it up.

He found it.

And kissed it.

Not quick. Not teasing.

Slow. Open-mouthed. Intentional.

Your fingers tightened against his back, your breath caught, your whole body arching slightly beneath him.

“Been wanting to do that,” he murmured against your skin.

You shivered. “Yeah?”

“Since the first time you tucked your hair back,” he whispered. “Drove me fucking crazy.”

You smiled. Then gasped—because he kissed it again, deeper this time, his hand sliding down to your hip, anchoring you to him like he couldn’t risk letting you drift too far.

And from there, he took his time.

Your moans were like music to his ears.

He’d imagined this—more times than he cared to admit. But he never let himself get too far. He’d always pulled himself back, always shut the door on the thought before it became too real, too dangerous.

But this wasn’t a dream.

This was real.

And he was here. With you.

No phones. No appointments. No schedule, no glass wall between you.

Just the two of you. Skin to skin. Breath to breath.

His mouth moved across your collarbone, your shoulder, your chest—slow, devoted, like he had all the time in the world. And for once, maybe he did.

You reached down between your bodies, fingers trailing over his torso with reverence, until you found his belt. You unbuckled it with practiced ease, metal clicking softly in the quiet room. You pushed his pants down, your breath hitching as he helped you.

“Fucking hell” you blurted as you caught the sight of his hard and heavy cock.

He stroked himself slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched your reaction—your gaze locked onto his cock, pupils blown, breath hitching. A bead of precum formed at the head and you gulped. There was a fair chance that he could split you in half, not only because of his cock but his size as a whole.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and he crawled onto the bed, his face inches from yours. His hands slid to your sides, fingers warm and sure against your skin.

He mirrored your movements, trailing down your waist until he reached the waistband of your pencil skirt—the one he’d seen you wear so many times. The one he’d fantasized about taking off, but never dared to touch.

Until now.

He didn’t hesitate.

He slid it down slowly, eyes locked on yours the whole time. The tension between you stretched, thick and warm and crackling.

And when the skirt hit the floor along with your panties, and he saw you like that—laid out for him, flushed, eyes dark with want—he exhaled like he’d finally, finally let himself breathe.

Your hands cupped his face, guiding him back to your mouth, and he settled between your thighs like he belonged there. Like he always had. Harry removed your panties tossing them across the room.

His fingers rubbed along your folds, feeling the wet pooling in your cunt before curling inside, his lips neared your clit, kissing it softly before licking across your entire cunt, He lapped on your clit, groaning onto it. The feeling of his tongue and his mustache caused an electric shock down your spine, driving right onto his face.

“I need you so bad” His voice deep as he added another finger, his mouth still on your clit making his words vibrate against you.

You struggled to respond, breath catching in your throat—but you managed, voice low and trembling with want.

“What’s holding you back? We’re already in this.”

He looked up at you, mouth still on you, hands gripping your thighs like he needed to anchor himself to something.

Your words hit him like a match. The final green light.

And just like that, restraint vanished. Neither of you cared how this would turn out—how messy, how complicated, how reckless. Consequences could come later. Right now? You just needed each other.

Desperately.

He gripped your thighs tighter, stretching your legs wider as he pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched at the sudden movement. He aligned himself holding his heavy cock to your entrance and using the wetness to lube himself up before entering you. Your eyes locked as he pushed into you—slow, steady, deliberate.

His gaze didn’t leave yours, not even for a second, like he wanted to see all of it—your reaction, your unraveling, the way your mouth parted with a breathless moan.

Your face contorted with pleasure, head tipping back as the stretch overtook you. One hand flew to the sheets, clutching them tight as your body arched, trying to take more, feel everything.

He slid in fully, deep, until there was nothing left between you. Just heat and breath and that dizzying sense that everything had just shifted again—and this time, there was no going back.

He finally moved—slow at first, steady, dragging his hips back just enough before pushing in again. Then he found his rhythm and hovered over you groaning against your neck, the sound low, guttural. Every thrust hit deep, every shift of his body pulled another breathless sound from your lips. Your hips rose to meet his, chasing every movement, matching his pace—desperate, shameless, hungry for more. You didn’t care how it looked or how it sounded. It was true.

There were no sharp sounds, no declarations. Just soft gasps, broken moans, fingers digging into skin like you were afraid to let go. Afraid this was a dream. Afraid you’d wake up if you did.

“Harry… fuck,” you whined, digging your nails into his hair as you got closer to the height of pleasure, your walls spasming around himpulsing in tight, desperate waves that pulled a groan from deep in his chest. He wasn’t far behind.

“Shit–“ he breathed, jaw clenched, his rhythm stuttering as your release crashed over you, coating him.

Shudders wracked your body, hips arching into him as the pleasure overtook you. You felt it—wet, warm, everywhere—coating him, slick and overwhelming.

He tensed inside of you and followed with a rough, broken sound, thrusting deep one final time as he came undone inside you. Your cry was caught in his mouth, swallowed between kisses and the sound of skin against skin.

Your nails raked down his back, your legs tightening around him as the release wracked through you, relentless and blinding.

He groaned against your lips, his rhythm faltering as he gave in too—lost to you, to the feeling, to the way you came around him like your body had been waiting for this moment, and only this.

And when it was over—when the last shuddering breath passed between you, and his lips found that spot behind your ear again—you felt something settle in your chest.

Like this hadn’t just been inevitable. It had been waiting.

Everything about him felt real—the weight of his body, the warmth of his breath, the way he moved with you like he already knew you this way. Like maybe, he always had.

Every stroke, every kiss, every whispered breath between tangled limbs felt like a quiet confession neither of you had dared speak aloud. You were wrapped in him—in his scent, his voice, the slow, grounding pressure of his body against yours.

You shivered again—even in his warmth.

This wasn’t just crossing a line. This was burning it.

Then, without a word, he shifted beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gently turning you onto your side. His chest pressed to your back, steady and warm.

You felt his hand settle low at your stomach, fingers curling softly against your skin like he wasn’t ready to let you go. Like he wouldn’t.

His arm was heavy—comfortably so. It grounded you, pinned you in the best way. You couldn’t have moved even if you wanted to.

You didn’t.

Just his breath at your neck. The quiet hum of the city outside. And sleep, finally pulling you under.

__________________________________

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, painting long golden stripes across the sheets. You stirred before he did, blinking against the light, the warmth of it settling over your bare skin. The sheets were soft. His bed smelled like clean linen and cedar, something calm and clean and unmistakably him.

Turning your head, you found him beside you—still asleep. Or maybe just pretending. Either way, you took the moment. Let your gaze linger on his face, softened in sleep, free from the tension he always wore like armor. He looked younger like this. Softer. Still Harry—but not the boss version. Just him.

You didn’t move. You didn’t want to.

But your phone buzzed somewhere from the living room, and it pulled you back into reality like a hook.

He opened one eye slowly. “Don’t answer it.”

You turned back toward him. “It might be important.”

“Then let it be important later.”

You laughed, burying your face into the pillow. “You’re not helping me keep my job.”

“I am your job.”

You groaned. “You would say that.”

He reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear again, fingers trailing lightly along your jaw before settling at your shoulder. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just looked at him, his eyes still soft with sleep but awake in a way that said he was fully here.

“Do you always wake up this smug?” you murmured, voice low and a little rough.

“Only when I’ve earned it,” he said, smiling faintly.

You shook your head, pressing your face into the pillow to hide your own grin, even as your leg brushed against his under the blanket. The air between you was warm but stretched—hovering in that space between comfort and the edge of a conversation neither of you had dared touch yet.

A quiet beat passed.

“So… what happens now?”

He looked at you for a moment, the question lingering in the space between your bodies. Too big for right now. Too real.

He exhaled. “Let’s get coffee first.”

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re really gonna dodge the question with caffeine?”

“I’m not dodging. I’m delaying with style.” He sat up, stretching slightly. “Priorities. Coffee first, emotional unraveling later.”

You slipped out of bed a moment later, legs still a little unsteady, and padded toward the doorway, grabbing the first thing you saw—a folded Nirvana tee left on the edge of a chair. It smelled like him—clean, warm, something like cedar and sleep and skin. You tugged it on, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs as you walked barefoot into the kitchen.

Harry was already there, sleeves rolled up again, hair slightly messy, standing by the stove with a French press and two mugs on the counter. The smell of coffee wrapped around you like a second shirt.

“Hey,” he said, voice still rough with sleep. “I wasn’t sure how you take it, so... I went basic. Milk and sugar are there.”

You sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, tucking your legs up beneath you.

He chuckled softly and slid a mug toward you. “Make yourself at home.”

You took a sip, eyes on him as he leaned back against the counter, his own mug held in both hands. It felt oddly natural—like you’d done this before, like waking up in his apartment and drinking coffee together was part of some soft, familiar routine you’d already built in your head.

Except it wasn’t. This was new. Dangerous. Beautiful.

You stared into your coffee, letting the warmth settle into your palms, your shoulders beginning to loosen in the stillness between you. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was gentle, even comforting. The scene felt like it belonged. Him. You. Coffee. Morning light stretching across the floor.

It fit too well.

And then, like something small tugged loose, the comfort began to unravel. Your breath caught in your chest. Your thoughts sharpened at the edges. This wasn’t routine. This wasn’t safe. You’d slept with your boss. You’d crossed a line and blurred it so deeply there might not be a way back.

Your fingers tightened around the mug, your body going still again—not frozen, just quiet, the kind of quiet that comes when a thought hits too fast, too sharp. He noticed. His voice softened when he spoke, like he was already reading the shift in you. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just set his mug down and stepped closer, resting one hand on the back of your chair—not quite touching, but close enough to feel. “We don’t have to name it,” he said, calm and even. “But I meant everything I said. And everything I did.”

You held his gaze, heart thudding, your breath catching somewhere between your ribs and your throat. “I meant it too,” you said quietly. “All of it.”

It wasn’t a full spiral. Not regret. Just a flicker of panic—the kind that comes after something good, something real. The kind that makes you question if maybe you dreamed the whole thing. But he caught it. And he soothed it. Not by promising anything, not by fixing it, but just by being steady. Present.

Because it wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t a mistake. And he knew that.

He nodded once. “Then we don’t panic.” His voice was calm, certain, like a soft line being drawn in the quiet. “We go to work,” he said simply. “We don’t pretend it didn’t happen. But we don’t have to define it right now either. We just—go slow. If that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. He reached out, his hand brushing lightly along your arm before resting there—warm, grounding. Not pulling you closer. Just there.

Neither of you moved after that. You sat quietly, shoulders barely touching, hands around your mugs, the sun crawling across the floor like it had all the time in the world. The coffee cooled slowly.

No pressure. No rush. Just a shared breath in the soft quiet of something beginning.

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