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#Something with legs??? In THIS economy?
reptiphoric · 4 months
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Went to an expo today specifically in search of these little gals - everyone say hi to Barbie, Barbie, and Barbie! :D
Let the lesbian clone gecko army commence. 😈
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jackalhadrurusluvr · 1 month
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they should just give me a job
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messylustt · 11 months
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Ok I absolutely love the way you write-
Imagine you decide to go back to school but like online classes and Miguel would have you cock warming him. And immediately after you hit that ‘end zoom’ or ‘leave classroom video’ he’s absolutely plowing into you like a animal in heat-
distracted in class — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). i cant do this anymore — thank you so much, my loveee.
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your lips are pressed tightly together, as you pretend to nod along to what the teacher is saying. something about the economy? you aren’t sure because all you can focus on is miguel’s cock buried deep inside you. your breathing is stuttering as you try not to move your hips. god, you just wanted to move. either up and down or completely off. because cock warming him like this was too much for your poor brain to train into the lesson on your computer.
you were on miguel’s thighs, the angle of the computer cutting him off, so all appeared innocent. miguel’s mouth was twitching in a snarl to move, because god did he want to just fuck you silly. your warm little hole kept clenching around him, making his grip on your hips tighten to the point of claw marks. “come on…cariño…let me move…i need to fucking move.” his low desperate tone was right by your ear.
“i — i have to focus.” you blink a few times too many, praying the teacher won’t ask you a question. “i cant…dios…i cant.” miguel’s hips had begun to try and move up into you. but with your weight atop of him you managed to not reciprocate. “i need to fuck you.” then finally you can see the lesson wrapping up, as other collage students dropped off the line. and as your hand shifted to tap the ‘end call’ button, miguel’s grip tightened.
“stay fucking still now...” miguel growled out as he thrusted up into your dripping cunt, making a small mewl escape you.
“yeah…that’s it…gonna fuck this pretty little hole that you’ve kept me from feeling…sliding up and down my cock—carajo.” his thrusts are animalistic and feverish, as groans leave him, his hands spreading your thighs further apart as his claws dig into your flesh. his hips movements are making you slightly bounce up and down on his dick.
“you have no idea what that just did to me…” his words are harsh, as he kept you at his mercy. “hours…of being in your pussy and I couldn’t even move…that’s not gonna happen again.” obscene sounds are filling the room, as your hips meet his — still on his lap. his teeth are by your ear as he nips at the skin. “no…next time if I want to be inside you — moving — i will be…and I don’t care if you need to focus, cariño…you just gotta be good and let me move you along my cock…”
“it’s study…i…i have to pay attention.” you manage as your legs shake. “that’s okay…” he coos. “you can be my dumb little slut…actually I’d like that…” he’s breathing harder as his cock twitches. “you can stay my dumb little pet, whose pretty head is filled with me and only me as you let me feel this hole for as long…as I please.”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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coryosbaby · 7 months
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ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ !
♡ content warning . dubious consent, mentions of drugging, sex work, breeding kink, cum play, weird usage of condoms, dom! Coryo
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You didn’t know how you ended up like this.
Being an escort wasn’t an easy job. There were times when you were completely disgusted at the men who approached you (if not all of them). Coriolanus was supposed to be a normal client— someone that would fuck and go. Even with his ranking, you never suspected that he would… keep you.
You had had a few weird clients— some asked for the most vulgar, filthy things. Some of them followed you around before your boss had told them off.
But none of them have ever took you home.
You usually weren’t this stupid, this hazy minded, but Coriolanus had scooped you up with his wit and his charm and a bottle of something you hadn’t had before the economy went downhill. You had heard of him— of course you had—- the powerful, handsome, and extremely intelligent, Coriolanus Snow. And before you knew it you were being tossed onto his king sized bed and his tongue was scraping against the roof of your open mouth. You didn’t even have time to gape in drunken wonder at his enormous bedroom— all you could think about was the cock gliding in between your legs, meaty and thick and wet. He had become completely bare to you, regardless of your opposing position. You were still clothed in your pink floral dress and your basic cotton panties.
Coriolanus’ lips grazed over your jugular, his tongue nipping at your skin. You had never been this hot for anyone, especially not a client. Your panties were soaking, your clit was throbbing and you needed to cum. What was happening to you?
“Cor…” you tried to slur out, as your eyelashes fluttered.
“I know.”
His voice was incredibly gentle, and his big hands groped your tits through your dress. He lifted up the hem, made sure to expose your panties to him, and groaned. You could feel his precum smear against your thigh as he ground his aching member against you.
“Can’t even say my name, can you?” Coriolanus continues. “I have an idea. You can just call me Coryo. Short enough for your little brain to remember, yeah?”
Coryo. It was a nice name. A perfect name.
You moaned out when you felt the cool air hit the peaks of your puffy and swollen nipples. Coriolanus—Coryo— was peeling your dress off of your body. When the fabric was thrown across the room his mouth latched to one of your nipples. You mewled, hands going up to grasp his blonde curls, your chest very sensitive all of a sudden. You could feel that familiar organ probing at your folds, and— when did he put a condom on? You didn’t know, but relief would’ve coursed through you if you weren’t so aroused that you were practically drooling.
“Want it,” you whined out, scraping his scalp with desperation. “Coryo. Please.”
Huffing out a laugh, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his shaft. He gave it a few tugs, made sure the precum pearled over and made a sticky white stain on the inside of the latex. He used the tip to part your pussy lips and find your hole. He pushed in, slow at first, but your pussy was so wet from whatever he slipped in your cup that it was almost easy. Even with his overwhelming size, your cunt accepted his cock greedily, sucking him inside your tight canal. Coryo groaned, practically going cross eyed at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy.
“Never had a cunt so tight,” he grunted against you. “even with all the men you sell yourself to, you’re still squeezing me like a fucking vice, sweetness.”
Your mouth dropped open, his words making you impossibly hornier. Usually you would be offended by such a vile statement, but his big cock was throbbing and wading through your walls with such precision that it had your legs shaking.
And Coriolanus had this charisma about him— something that made his words even more powerful than most. And after that statement, he just kept talking.
“Oh, Angel. My good, special girl,” his thrusts were impossibly fast now, the plap plap plap of his balls slapping against your sore and raw fucked pussy making you cry. “You’re mine now.”
His. His, his, his. Your fingernails dug into him, his chest touching yours sending tingles all throughout your body, and he kept spewing out dirty innuendos. You never thought being fucked could feel this good. His fingers reached down and rubbed your swollen clit, and it was like magic, the way your pussy spasmed and your orgasm washed over you. Seizing up, you mewled out his name as you came on him.
Coryo was mesmerized by your cunt squeezing him so tightly. Your pretty folds, lips spread out and wet, your hole sucking him in like he was meant to be there, like he was meant to fuck his cum into your womb, it was all so much. No amount of classism could keep him from you. Not after this. District or not, he would make you his gorgeous little wife. He would give you everything, love for you, kill for you. With the thought of this possession towards you, his hips began to stutter. Your eyes were closed, but you were still humping yourself against his awaiting thrusts. His balls drew taught, and he could feel his awaiting cum begin to flood the condom wrapped around his length.
No. No, no, no. This wasn’t right.
Not to Coriolanus. Not now— your pussy needed to be fucked full of his hot cum. You needed to be bred. And he was going to keep you and make sure of it.
Coriolanus watched your fluttering eyelids, the small smile grazing your features as his thrusts slowed. Something primal coursed through him, and he slowly pulled himself out of you. Watching your gaping hole made his cock twitch again, and he used his fingers to slowly twist the condom off of his cock. Full of his cum, he spread your lips with two fingers and turned the latex upside down. His spend dropped out of it and onto your used little hole, and you whimpered out as his cum splashed against your cunt.
“Coryo? What’r you doing?”
“Just getting you nice and wet for me, little bird. Close your eyes.. let me fuck you again.”
And like clockwork, his cock was probing your entrance for a second time— his sticky cum being pushed into your fertile womb by the tip of his pink mushroomed tip, his balls making more seed for your perfect pussy, and he was claiming your spent body with everything he had. <33
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spockandawe · 10 days
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And finally, more crochet! After I finished the rocky horror lips, I felt this vague urge to clear out patterns I'd acquired and never made, and when I looked at my ravelry stash, obviously shuttle the shongololo was the first thing to catch my eye. Yes, it was a free pattern, not money I'd spent going to waste, but come on. IRRESISTIBLE.
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I did do some modifications on the fly, because it's written for dk yarn (and a lot of it), and i have very little dk, but SO much worsted, including the variegated stripe yarn I was absolutely determined to use for the body. I think I multiplied recommended hook size by 1.5 all over and just went for it! Checking the gauge? In THIS economy?? But it was a huge success, even though I VASTLY underestimated how much material it would take and despite intending to use up my stash, I had to re-up on supplies multiple times (between yarn, stuffing, and breaking my hook, it was like. seven trips). I must inform you that there's so much material in this thing that when I tossed it onto this bed, it rolled off the other side and sounded like a body hitting the floor. It's huge, and it's HEAVY.
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But the results are undeniable! Holding two stands of multicolor yarn with the same gradient pattern and just making sure they never sync was SO cool. And the underbelly is a velvet yarn that's sooooo so soft, I love it so much. However, 132 legs. That was... unfortunate. But I'm a creature of fleeting memory! And when I recovered a little, I started thinking about the short pillbug version of the millipede, and I started thinking about my yarn leftovers, and, well, here we are. I used one strand of a different gradient yarn to mix it up a little, and also, to avoid even more shopping trips, but oh man. OH MAN. This pattern is something I probably won't do again, but it is very, VERY fantastic
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Nature vs Nurture (monster!Konig x fem!Reader)
The new world order - monsters on top, creating the perfect dystopia for humans. You are nothing but a pet to them, a breeding mare for their perverse desires…and now you've finally been claimed by their colonel. Good luck.
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Tags and TW: Dub-con, monster fucking, size kink, power imbalance, dumbification, pet play, dystopia, obsessive Konig, tentacle monster Konig, oviposition, breeding. AO3
It was supposed to be a supply run. Fast, quick, stealthy. In and out, the ruins of the abandoned store not so far from your hiding spot. Whatever you could find, some canned food – maybe, but not realistically. Some rubble and garbage that could be exchanged for food for triple the price it was – possible. Realistic. 
It was supposed to be a quick supply run. Like a rabbit out of her hole – but not really a rabbit, not even having the courtesy of strong legs and long ears that could spot anyone from a mile away. No, of course not – the universe wasn’t feeling particularly merciful when you were born a human in the age before monsters decided they didn’t want to be servants anymore. You think you remember going to the store like a normal person. Picking up a cart, hauling anything you could afford – not bothering about a lot of things. 
There are still stores, you think. Remesances of capitalism, working only for monsters – whatever crude economy they were building, it stayed in the cities. In the military bases, were filled with monsters even before the uprising. Not here, in the wasteland – it belongs to humans, as little as there were left. 
It was supposed to be a quick supply run for you and your friends – but you were dumb, but you were careless, but you grew accustomed to being the only one here, you didn’t even spot a patrol. Nasty fuckers, getting humans off the abandoned streets – you tried to fight and it didn’t work. Tried to run, and they were faster. Always faster. You should have been quicker, you shouldn’t have been a human – but you are, your soft self still not hardened by the life on the run, so you weren’t put out of your misery as you saw some other humans who got caught. Monsters took pity on you – or, perhaps, your submissiveness finally paid off. You were shown off the corner of a store – a human store, as you read, the words burning in your mind. You heard the stories about humans – attractive, soft people, mostly weak and obedient – who were snatched off the streets to do god knows what. Monsters can’t breed on their own, you remembered. 
You can hear the voices coming somewhere in the hallway, a good few meters away from your cage. You force yourself to stay as far from the bars as possible, not wanting to attract attention. Not even want to bother yourself with trying to see what your captors look like – monsters can take on human appearance and you’d rather live without seeing a human pet trader looking like someone who could have been your neighbor before the uprising. You curl in a ball, hugging your knees. Sobbing softly, quietly – knowing that there is no way out of here now. Not even other humans would help you now. “Just got new batch, colonel. Doesn’t look like a resistance member” “Ja, I heard that the last time. Schlampe killed all the hatchlings the second they were born.” “W…we didn’t know, sir! I promise, it was a…” “You can’t even breed them properly. There wasn’t any new humans in months, wolf” “Humans are…delicate, sir. They don’t want to breed in captivity.” “Make them then.” You hear something heavy shuffling around. You hear heavy footsteps that are making the flimsy flor of your cage shake. Even monsters have their disputes – but you can’t bother with caring when you hear footsteps approaching. Large shadow casting down on you. Making you feel even more small and miserable than you did before. Your head hurts. Your stomach hurts. Your everything hurts. 
Someone is staring at you. You see…someone. Humanoid silhouette – too big to belong to a human, at least 7 feet tall and broader than the entirety of your cage. You whimper when the creature tilts its head to the side, a surprisingly boyish tone of his voice grasping on your panicking mind. It isn’t the one that captured you but, for some reason, you can sense that he is even more dangerous. There is something on his uniform – some decorations, you think. Soldiers from the age before the uprising are all have quite high ranks in the new society – if they are monsters, that is. Large, droopy red tentacle falls from the guy’s hood. Definitely a monster. 
— Come closer, human. You whimper, trying to get up – only to get as far away from him as possible. You’re terrified, but he only hums in acknowledgment. A group of tentacles rising from under his hood, pushing you towards him through the bars. You were never more thankful for being locked away. 
— Disobedient. Or just dumb? 
— I d…don’t…
You cry, not wanting to give an answer – too disoriented, your nostrils are filled with the smell of sea and blood. You feel light-headed, dizzy, you’re hungry and dehydrated and you don’t know how could you even proceed to resist when one of his tentacles goes through the bars of your cage. Caresses your face, surprisingly gentle. Smearing cold slime around your skin, but even this is a welcoming feeling – you’d take everything that isn’t damp air of the human compound and the old sweat tattering your skin. You’d give anything for a bath right now. At least a few wet wipes, to wash the grime off your face – to stop feeling like an animal even though you know you’re already been reduced to one. — Just dumb, then. Gut. Monster caresses your face for a while, admiring your features. Salty tears feel like heaven on his tentacles – you can’t possibly see him, but he is grinning under that weird hood of his, adoring how obedient you are. It might be just exhaustion, but he missed humans like this – broken and abandoned. Soft and adorable, crying at the brim of a hat. König is going to have a lot of fun breaking you in – you couldn’t possibly be worse than the last wife he took. He wants to see you round and filled with his eggs. He wants you to see you cry for his cock, begging him to fill you up like the dumb, pathetic human you are. He wants to lay in the nest with you, pressing his body against yours – stealing the coolness of your body, covering you with his tentacles like a perfect chewing toy. He wants to… — Ah, sir. This is the new one. Just took her yesterday. 
A merchant smiles, slimy face spreading in a wide grin. Tentacles retreat from your face and shoulders immediately, only leaving a small trace of liquid over your features. If you were dumb enough, you could have sworn the monster was affectionate – but you don’t want to be dumb. Can’t survive in this world only on silliness, unfortunately. — I will take this one. — B…but it isn’t properly domesticated yet! You know how wild strays can be, colonel… — I thought you said all pets were properly obedient? 
— W…well, of course, sir, but… — I don’t need a trained slut to carry my eggs. This one would do nicely. Consider this your sacrifice to the order, ja? Before you know it, the merchant showed you in the hands of a giant man. Colonel, as you heard – not knowing proper military ranks, you wonder how high it can be. Or low. Monsters only value power and personal strength – and the merchant was fucking terrified of the tentacle creature who was holding you right now. Perhaps, you should have tried your chances of running away and being killed. Perhaps, you should have slowly died of hunger instead of coming out for supplies. `You’re held high in the air – too high for your liking. The monster presses you against his chest like he expects you to run away any second now – and you want to, really, nothing you’d love more but to simply jump off and run for the hills. But you’re too exhausted, the hunger sitting deep in your empty stomach makes you think that, maybe, for whatever reason this monster bought you for, he’d at least feed you. Maybe turn you into a pet – this is why there are stores for captured humans, right? Humans were treating their pets nicely, maybe the monster wouldn’t be too far off. Tentacles are swirling around your legs, around your hands – now you can’t even move your neck properly, cheek squished against a warm chest. This monster is a weird one – it’s like he can’t stop his tentacles from touching you, the cold tips of his tendrils spreading slime on the dryness of your skin. His body is warmer than any human would be, and his tentacles are cold – the contrast against your naked skin, barely covered by your torn clothes, is making you crazy. Making you think about weird things – like the monster reproduction again. Like your empty tummy, like the friends you left at the compound when you were supposed to go for supplies. Not getting captured by one of the monster higher-ups.
— You’re soft for a human. You weren’t even sure he was talking to you at first. You’ve been walking for a couple of minutes before you could finally hear some traces of civilization. Roaring vehicles. Gunfire. Laugh and groans – moans, too, to your surprise, not all of them very pain-induced. Your face is still pressed in his chest, you can’t see anything meaningful – but he stops in some corner, you think, covering you in his arms like a package he needed to deliver. You aren’t sure if you remember what the word “package” means. Something naughty, you think. — Quiet, too. 
You still don’t answer, and he hums. Pushes you on the ground, suddenly – you fall on your ass, yelping in pain and surprise as you lay on something softer than a concrete floor. It’s a pile of mattresses, you realize. You’re in a room, you realize – still too dizzy after everything that’s happened, you didn’t even notice when he entered the building and pushed you away from the sounds of life you wanted to hear so much of. You’re sitting on your ass on the pile of soft, rotten mattresses – a faint smell of decay builds up in your nose, but you can’t even concentrate. The tentacles are spreading your legs suddenly – you cry and whimper, your walls breaking down to reveal a soft center because the monster tears away your pants with ease. Your clothes weren’t much, to begin with, dirty and torn after the capture – still, you don’t want to be naked in front of him. You don’t want to be naked in front of anyone. 
— Spread your legs, human. You don’t want to, but you obey – you don’t wish to give him an opportunity to pry your legs open, to use force and make your life even more miserable. You know that being so obedient is kind of pathetic but, honestly, you couldn’t care less at this point. If being pathetic would save you from a broken leg, you will spread yourself open. Place each ankle on the side of the rotten mattress, not even caring that the thing fabric of your clothes – whatever little is left there – is slowly whiskered away by the tentacles. His hands are worse, somehow. He pushes your legs a bit wider, making you hiss from the stretch – and then he tears off your underwear. Not even letting you a chance to save your dignity – before you could cover yourself with your hands, at least, he is already launched at your cunt, smaller tendrils swirling around your core. You’re dry, obviously – and the monster tilts his head to the side. Acknowledging. Looking. He isn’t soft in his movements and the prying attention makes you embarrassed – if your legs weren’t in hid hold already, you’d try to close them. To save yourself. His motives are obvious, his intentions are clear – still, you sob and whine i his hold when his hand slowly presses on the button of your clit. The colonel – you try to remember this, it’s probably important –  is somewhat slow – he pushes your inner lips, spreads your hole as much as you can with a meager amount of fluid from the slime of his tendrils and, somehow, you find yourself getting aroused. Maybe, it’s his attention – he isn’t laying his eyes off you, and it almost makes you blush too much. He is adorable in this way if a monster of his regard can even be called this – and you’re freaking terrified when he goes closer, looks at you even more. 
His hand is making squelching sounds as your cunt becomes wetter by the second – it’s the first time in forever you had this kind of attention, and surviving the monster revolution didn’t exactly help with getting the edge off. You’re desperate for anyone to touch you – and the monster has beautiful hands. Big and burly, with tendrils sometimes running around to add even more lube – you know you’d never get anything like this with a normal human. — Need to check you first, Maus. The merchant keeps sending me infertile ones. You don’t know what he is talking about – but his hand lays flat on your tummy, putting you in place, and the larger tentacle – big, slimy one, with uneven structure with little bumps that made you wonder how it’s even going to fit inside – slowly creps to your sloppy, wet opening. It doesn’t hurt, you’re wet and open – something in the lube he extracted made you dizzy, dumb, you don’t even know when you spread your legs a bit more and welcomed the intrusion. It feels right, it feels wrong, it feels like the thing to die for – it feels like something that could kill you. He laughs and it sends slow rumbles right to the tendril penetrating your pussy. The pressure on your clit is too much – and your brain is to foggy to think that it reminds you more of a medical exam than actual sex. The tentacle inside is vibrating, twisting and turning, pressing on your cervix – it should feel painful, it can’t be this good but, somehow, you welcome the feeling of being this fucking full. You don’t buck your hips, but you cry and moan – and it’s enough of an indication of your pleasure. Monster laughs, his other hand goes to lay on your face – a surprisingly gentle gesture. Short-lived, but you could still feel the warmness lingering on your tattered skin. It’s hot and cold with him – you aren’t sure what comes next, but the tendrils are sliding in and out, probing at the entrance of your womb and, despite everything, you feel the knot in your stomach untying. The orgasm is a quiet one – build up is slow and small, and it doesn’t make you black out – but you whimper nonetheless, the tight embrace of his hands on your body feeling more like a cage than a normal hug. He is too powerful, probably not sure about his strength – you feel him squishing you like a fruit. The slime is leaking from your empty pussy, clenching around nothing. — Obedient. You’d be a good vessel for my eggs, human. You whine, turning away from him. He chuckles, pressing you in his arms again. Like a child with his favorite new toy – you feel squeezed and touched in various places, his tentacles having a mind on their own. Not an inch of flesh getting ungroped. — Ar…are you going to kill me? — Ach. You can talk after all. — Are you going to… — No. Have a much better way to use you. He chuckles in your hair, pressing his face in it. Inhales the scent – if he has nose, of course. This stupid hood conceals everything, not letting you know anything besides his rank. Which makes you think about…
— What is your name? 
A stupid question, really. You shouldn’t care about the name of a monster who bought you – still, you don’t want to refer to him as just “a monster”. This dumb part of your brain wants closure. — König. Remember it, little human. Oh. So his name is König. Somehow, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 
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astroboots · 1 year
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Rainy Night Patrol
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CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS
Summary: Miguel comes home after a night of patrolling with a lot of pent up tension to find you sound asleep.
Content: Somnophilia, panty-tearing practises (in this fucking economy?!??! I know gurl) jerking off with panties kind of? overprotective Miguel is our favourite Miguel. Rough sex. Multiple orgasms and overstimulation (cause do I evern write anything else anymore?). Implied violence against random street criminals.
A/N: Pre-established relationship with pre-established consent for somnophilia.
Word Count: 4,800
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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Rainy nights in New York are the fucking worst.
It brings out the worst in people. Stressed-out bankers who will push old ladies out of their way to get to a seat on the subway. Drunken assholes who piss everywhere, making everything reek, and alleyway mugging seems to increase by a disproportionate amount whenever it's pouring.
It surprises Miguel that street robbery even happens outside of comic books anymore. Do these people not have a computer? Cybercrime is a thing. A successful phishing scam targeting a bank employee can net millions overnight.
Yet here Miguel is, headbutting this public nuisance for trying to rob and assault a sorority girl on her way home, fists eating into the man's face. Even though it is evident by now that there is no way the man has a fighting chance, he refuses to stop. He's hissing and spitting at Miguel, lunging at him with the ferociousness of a rabid racoon.
The easiest solution would be to bite and paralyze and call it a night. But from the reek of stale sweat and copious body Axe spray coming off of this asshole, Miguel has no desire to put any part of this man's body into his mouth.
So here Miguel is, putting this bargain-bin Sylvester Stallone wannabe in a headlock and slamming his head into a street lamp in an attempt to knock the man unconscious, instead of where he wants to be: home, in your questionably sized apartment and lumpy feeling bed.
Christ, he hates this city.
By the time it's all said and done, and everything is wrapped up, it's already past midnight. As he slinks in through the window sill into your bedroom, you're fast asleep.
You're lying on top of the quilts, the bedside lamp still on, which means you've been up waiting for him, even though you're supposed to have an early morning tomorrow. Something, something about how it's year-end and you have to present... something or the other.
It's... endearing that you still do that, try to wait up for him every night, even though you should know by now that more often than not, he'll be home much too late for you to still be awake.
Climbing inside the bedroom, the post-fight adrenaline is still surging through his veins. He's riled up, irritated. There's heat brandishing under his skin that is pushing at the edges begging for an outlet.
He glances in your direction. You look so soft in the dim bedroom light, half of your face buried into the pillow.
No, tonight is not the night. You need your sleep.
With a shake of his head, he walks over to his side of the bed, letting the Unstable Molecule fabric of his suit recede until he's left standing naked in the half-darkness of your bedroom.
Dragging away the sheet, he tucks it over you, you hum and shift in your sleep. Leg swinging Akimbo over to his side before he's even had the chance to lay down. The oversized sleep shirt does nothing to disguise the curves of your body, falling completely off one shoulder and riding up to reveal the tantalizing curve of your bare thigh.
Shit.
His mouth waters at the sight, cock half hard just from watching you. It's not helped by the adrenaline still buzzing in his head. It wouldn't take much to get him the rest of the way there.
Miguel groans and rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the tension growing between his temples. How exactly is he supposed to be getting any sleep with you lying next to him, all soft heat and sweet little hums that make him want to grind up against you like a cat in heat?
The weight in the bed shifts as you roll back away from him. A quiet snore issues from where you’re digging your face deeper into the pillow, clearly exhausted. 
Fuck, guess he's just going to have to try. It'd be cruel to wake you now.
He slides into bed next to you, settling for the comforting warmth of you next to him, as he curls one arm around your waist and wraps himself around you. Burying his face into the warm nape of your neck and taking a deep inhale. The smell of your shampoo and soap that pleasantly lingers on his skin, washes away the memories of the stench of rain-soaked streets of this city, the disgusting smell of sulphur and piss.
New York throws a lot of stuff in his way. Muggers, arsonists, would-be murderers. It's nothing he can't handle. And he can handle what it throws at you too. Whether it is torrential rain or some freak force of nature threatening to put you in harm's way, it doesn't matter. He keeps you safe.  And despite all the close calls, you're still here. Still alive. Still his.
His hand slides over the curve of your thigh at the thought, needing to feel your warmth underneath his fingertips. Goosebump prickles your skin at his caress, and he watches the way your back arches, pressing into his touch, even in your sleep.
A slow steady warmth blooms in his chest at your reaction. It's a heady blend of protectiveness but also pride. The universe itself can throw any tantrum it wants. He'll protect you from it all.
Your eyes stay shut, still clearly asleep, but your mouth parts with a needy hum, and Miguel gives you what you want, easing your body back into his arms. Like clockwork, you snuggle back against him, and the slight wiggle of your ass brushing against his front ensures there's no half about how hard is dick is anymore.
Needy heat rolls off his back in waves, and he slides one hand under the hem of your shirt and up along the softness of your stomach. If you were awake, you would be leaping away and smacking him for tickling you. But now the touch just makes you stretch and let out a contented little hum, your nipples already drawn up tight and hard for him by the time he reaches them.
Why are you so reactive when you're sound asleep? Part of him thinks you must be doing this on purpose; there's no way you can't be when he feels you shift again, the soft lace of your panties brushing up against his aching cock.  He palms your hip, following the edge of the lace down over the curve of your ass, then hesitates.
You only pull out the lacey panties when you really want to rile him up. Saving them for special occasions because (as you never fail to mention while scolding him whenever he's ripped another pair in the heat of the moment) 'fancy underwear isn't cheap!' One of these lacey thrilly little things easily would set you back at $80 a pop. Miguel isn't exactly hard pressed for cash, but he sees your point.
Still Miguel doesn't know what he is supposed to do when you keep pressing back against him the way you are at the moment. He grits his teeth, jaw muscles protesting as he grinds them together, knowing fully well he's fighting a losing battle. It’s really only a matter of time. Miguel isn't a fucking saint, and right now the need riding the length of his spine is burning hot enough to incinerate him.
Oh fuck it!
Hooking a finger around the hem of your panties, he eases them to the side, and his hips hitch forward, rubbing himself against you. Sharp pleasure skitters along his back, and he has to bite down the groan in his throat. He draws back, and does it again, letting his cock ride along the curve of your ass. Letting his aching, leaking cock settle between your cheeks, the delicate lace trapping him in place against you.
You’re definitely gonna bitch at him later for stretching out the elastic. But that's okay, you'll forgive him, the way you always do.
He holds there, gently rolling his hips, doesn't go too forceful or too eager with his thrusts, some half-formed intention to not wake you. Thighs shaking as he savors the contrast between your smooth skin and the textured lace. He tells himself that he should take it slow and not disrupt your sleep. But Miguel's never been a patient man.
His hands are already moving, reaching, before his brain has anything to say about it, fingers hitching your panties even further to the side, and fuck the elastic, he'll buy you a new pair. Shit, he'll buy you twenty new pairs. A whole fucking store of panties if that's what you want.
He pulls back, presses forwards again, cock sliding between those plush thighs, the head, slick with precome, gliding smoothly against you.
And fuuuuuck.
He drops his forehead against your shoulder, eyes squeezing shut to ground himself. He can feel how wet you are, drenching his cock as he skims the hard length over and through your slick folds. You're warm and inviting and oh so fucking tempting. You may still be fast asleep, but your body is telling him it’s oh so very ready for him.
God you feel so fucking good.
Angling his hips, he slides the sensitive head of his dick against your slick folds, notching himself against your entrance, gritting his teeth against the way your pretty pussy clenches at the threat of invasion. He holds himself there, breath hissing between his teeth as he teases you both, with tiny, incremental movements forward, in, and back.
Pleasure swirls through him, hot and heady, his ears buzzing with electricity. He's lost in it, but not so far gone that he misses the noises you're making, your reaction. Those little sounds of dissatisfaction, the way your back arches, pressing your hips back against him.  All of it telling him the same thing.
He presses his mouth to the corner of your shoulder. Has to hide the feral grin threatening to break out, because for all his vague intentions of letting you rest, part of him has been waiting for this. Part of him has been aiming for this exact outcome.
You. Awake. Fully ready to take him.
He presses forward again, just far enough that the head of his cock slips inside you, and is rewarded by your body clenching warm and wet around him.
Fuck, you feel too good. You always fucking do. It punches the breath right out of his lungs, needy heat singing through his veins and along every nerve ending in his body until he goes dizzy with it. There are advantages and disadvantages to enhanced senses, and right now, he's fully feeling both. Needs to get on with it, because he intends to have you coming on his cock at least twice before he's done.
Hooking an arm around your waist, he cups your mound. He stays there, pressing with his fingers and the heel of his palm, until he's rewarded by your hips hitching forward into the pressure, then rocking back again, causing you to sink down further onto him. A gasp and a small soft moan falls from between your lips.
He does it again, encouraging you to rock forward and then back again, taking him deeper each time. Inch by brain wracking inch, you take him in. He can feel your tight little pussy stretch around him, adjusting to his cock, as he presses your hips back and back and back until you're taking him all down to the root. Until he’s buried as deep as he can go.
Somehow it's not enough. Not when he's waited this long.
He centers three fingers over your clit through the lace of your panties, resting the heel of his hand just above your pubic bone, and then he presses down.
Your pussy clenches tight, and you jolt hard against him, gasping awake with a breathy 'oh' that does funny things to his brain. Makes rational thought skitter away from him, and when he hears his name on a long gorgeous drawn out moan everything inside him roars to attention.
"Miguel."
Satisfaction thrums under his skin. You’re awake, and he wants you awake for this. Wants you to know exactly who is about to fuck your brains out.
"That's right, nena," he croons, easing his hips back, and skimming his lips up from your shoulder to nip at your exposed neck, careful not to break the skin, relishing the sound of the perfect little gasp of yours. "I'm right here. You ready for my big cock, baby?"
"It– mmmmmm– It feels…" you mumble, voice still stumbling and sleepy.
He slams back into you just as you're trying to find your words, taking a bit too much pleasure in interrupting them when he hears you whine out a breathy, "Fuck, fuck!"
"What's that?" Miguel raises a hand to your chin, cradling it in his palm, tilting you back until he can press his lips to the edge of your jaw. "What does it feel like, tell me."
"Fee-feels like– ngh– like I'm already– taking your big cock." Your words are staggered, stuttered out each time he fucks his cock into you, and Miguel smiles.
"You are," he tell you, "You're taking me so well, nena."
It's a struggle for him to get the words out smoothly. He’s rolling his hips at a steady pace, fucking you in earnest now that you're awake to appreciate it. Every slick slide into your needy little pussy has pleasure burning sharp and insistent through his nervous system, overwhelming and inescapable.
He pauses, moving his hand away from your clit for a second, and grins when you whine and clutch at his arm.
"Patience," he scolds you "I've got you. I'm just gonna..."
He tucks his hand under your panties, and you stiffen against him, making a sound like an outraged cat. He knows exactly what you're going to say even before the words leave your lips, so he ignores you, sliding his fingers along the boundary where you're stretched so wide around the base of him, getting them nice and slick.
"You didn't take off my panties!? Miguel, these are my good wuh– oh fuck."
The words cut off when he locates your hard little clit, settling two fingers over it this time, one on each side, the way he knows always drives you crazy.
"What was that, nena?" he bites back a smile, "Something you wanted to say, huh?"
You suck in a breath, but he doesn't give you a chance to answer, fucking into you hard, and wastes no time resuming his former rhythm. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken moan.
"Sorry, baby," he teases, "I didn't quite catch that."
You don't answer. There's no way you're going to, not with the way your body is drawing up tight, gasping for breath as if he's driving every last ounce of oxygen from your lungs.
He knows your body as well as he knows his own, and he has you caught now, like spider with a fly in its web. He keeps holding you tight against him, hips angled to drive up against just the right spot inside you, the one that has you sobbing and clawing at him with every thrust, each one forcing you forward against the fingers he has bracketing your sensitive little clit.
No more words from that smart mouth of yours now, only gasps and whimpers and cut-off moans that might be the first syllable of his name.
You're clawing at his forearm, breath stuttering in and out of your lungs in staggered gulps. Your heart beating loud and fast and alive in your chest, and he can tell that you're close now. He can feel it in the way your tight little pussy clenches and quivers around him, clutching at his cock like it wants to hold him close, closer, closest.
"Mi– Mi– Mig–" The sound stutters out of you in time with his thrusts, high pitched and desperate—cut-off moans that might be the first syllable of his name, more whine than words. Pride swells in Miguel's chest at seeing you, hearing you like this, strung out and stuttering on his cock, begging him for your pleasure.
Pleasure that only he can give you.
"That's right, nena." He fucks into you hard. Can feel you clench around him relentlessly.
"I'm right here."
You're squeezing him so goddamned tight.
"Fucking you."
It takes everything in him to hold to the same angle, the same pace. To give you just what you need, the way only he can give it to you.
"Making you come," he bites out.
You writhe against him, whining louder now, sweet noises growing higher pitched.
"Come for me, nena," he demands, and you shudder against him, your voice rising into a wail.
Your hot little cunt clamps down tight, fluttering around him, and bright spots of pain bloom into pleasure as your fingernails dig into his arm, drawing blood. Your pretty eyes flutter shut as the whole of your body tenses under him.
Fuck, you're coming.
"That's– fuck– That's it," he grits out, slowing his thrusts, rocking against you gently to help draw out your orgasm. To buy himself a freaking second so you don’t take him over the edge with you. He keeps the soft rolling rhythm until the wracked shivers seizing your body settles. Counting down the seconds until the grip of your nails into his biceps is easing, and then…
"Again," he demands, snapping his hips forward, fucking into you hard, "Come for me again, nena."
Miguel locks his arm in place, holding you at the angle that will let him hit that perfect spot inside you every time, the one that makes your eyes roll back in your head, and he intends to have you seeing stars. He hears your breath leave you with a strangled noise, feels your pussy clench tight and perfect around his cock, and grins through gritted teeth.
If he times it juuuust right, he can send you over the edge a second time. He's done it before, forcing you into another orgasm before you've even come down from the first, and he’s not above using his enhanced reflexes to make you do it again.
And right now? The way you're writhing against him, hands and arms and pussy clutching at him, like you're trying to pull him closer—pull him in, despite the fact that he's already fucking you as deep as he can go. All of that tells him his timing was spot-fucking-on today.
It doesn't take long. It never does when he makes you come this way. And thank fuck for that, because the feel of you clenching around him is almost enough to take him over the edge with you. He has to grit his teeth as he slows to the gentle rocking rhythm you like best when you’re coming. His free hand fisting in the bed sheets, claws digging into them in a way he knows will earn him another scolding later. But R.I.P. your damn linens. Better them than him. You may have come twice, but Miguel's not ready to be done with you just yet.
This time, when you come down, he keeps things slow and gentle until you go loose and boneless. Forces himself to slows further until every muscle in your body melts under his grip. You sink down into the mattress with a little sigh, like you're ready to drift back off to sleep just like this, safe and snug in his arms, his hard cock still buried inside of you.
And if he wasn't so hard up, skin crawling with need and desperation, maybe he'd let you.
But that’s not happening tonight.
Unfortunately for you, Miguel's too hungry for you. Starving. Wants to lick and bite and swallow you down to the very marrow of your bones. 
He's been good. He's been patient. Has held himself back while he made you come. Twice. Satisfaction burns bright in his chest, almost as bright as his need for you. Two fucking times he's gritted his teeth, holding back his own orgasm by the skin of his fucking fangs as that pretty little pussy came around his cock, squeezing him so tight that for a second he was sure he'd black out and see god behind his eyelids.
Miguel is out of patience. 
Any intention to go easy on you because you need the rest is gone. Any consideration for your early morning tomorrow has flown the nest.
Hands on each side of your hips, he rolls the two of you, easily flipping you forward onto your stomach and drags you down along the bed. You stay limp and relaxed, as you let him move you like a ragdoll, positioning you the way he wants, head and chest resting against the matress, ass in the air.
Once he's got you where he wants you, he takes just a second to admire you, taking in the way those pretty lace panties highlight the curves of your ass but do nothing to conceal your slick center, pulled to the side as they are, leaving your pussy fully exposed, all pretty and puffy from how well he's fucked you and glistening in the low light.
You shiver under his heavy gaze, and he can see the way your pussy clenches, can see how wet you are, shining slick, halfway down your thighs.
Miguel must've taken too long with his one second. A soft inquisitive "hmmmmm?" emerges from where your head is buried in the pillow, and you rock your hips gently side to side.
His dick jerks at the obvious invitation. Precome oozes from the tip, and he takes himself in hand, lets himself stroke once to spread it along his length, as though he wasn't dripping with you already.
"What's that, nena?" he bites out. He's so fucking hard for you, cock aching from holding back, but even now, he can't help but tease and goad you. "You want more? You didn't get fucked good enough already? Does that pretty pussy want my cock?"
"Mmmmm.... yes," you say, one hand outstretched behind you, making a 'gimme' motion at him.
The gesture is ridiculous, but he can't help the way it makes his chest pull tight. You're always so ready to have him, no matter how much he tires you out. Suddenly, he can't wait another fucking second to be inside you again. 
He starts to line himself up, the wet heat of you just kissing the head of his dick when you tense up and make a sound of alarm. Fear stings his spine, and he freezes.
"You okay, nena?" he asks, pulling away from you, suddenly terrified that he's hurt you somehow.
Miguel has always been big—even before the "accident" that changed him—and he's bigger now, exponentially stronger.  He’d thought he was being careful, but fuck, it'd be all too easy for him to let his strength get away from him, to go harder than you can handle.
"Are you hurt? Was I- Was I too rough?"
Because he forgets sometimes. Forgets that others don't heal at an accelerated rate like he does. That your body isn't protected by enhanced endurance that lets him walk off falling from a building, barely feeling the six broken ribs and fractured arm that results.
It's why he needs to protect you. 
Always. 
Unlike him, you can be hurt. Can be broken, can be killed. And if he’s hurt you, then he–
You make a negative sound, shaking your head.
  "No, you big doofus," you mumble out into the pillow, and Miguel's heart slowly starts to ease its way out of his throat. "The panties. Take them off first. Don't want them to tear."
He stops, blinking in confusion as his eyes narrow down at you.
Your. Fucking. Panties!?
Really? His mouth curls down into a peeved frown. That's your fucking priority right now? After he's fucked you silly, made you come twice the way only he can?
"You want me to take your panties off, nena?" he demands, tone low and harsh, edging forward on the bed until he’s looming over you.
"Yes," you confirm. "They’re my last good pair." You’re nodding your head energetically in a way that tells him he hasn't done nearly as good of a job of tiring you as he thought. He’ll have to fix that.
With a snarl, he lances the crotch of your panties with a single claw, ripping them off your body.
"Miguel!" you squeak, clearly not expecting that, your voice pitched with disbelief, "Did you just–?"
"They were in the way," he manages to rasp out, lining himself up and pressing forward, unceremoniously shoving inside.
The tight, hot clench of your pretty pussy is blindingly good. It always fucking is. And just like always, Miguel is lost to it. He holds there, buried as deep in you as he can get, shuddering against you. He's damn lucky that extraordinary stamina comes bundled along with super-senses, or he'd probably come every damn time he slips inside you. It'd be all over at the first thrust.
Fuck, he has to move. He pulls out, and you gasp and claw at the sheets, shuddering under him as he starts to fuck you again. Obscene wet, squelching sounds fill the room, along with the echoing slap of flesh on flesh as he fills you over and over and over. You’re so fucking wet, so fucking perfect. He grits his teeth, trying to get a handle on the feeling, but it’s overwhelming. 
Your hot, perfect little pussy clenches and flexes around his dick, and a blissful burn sears against his spine, streaking white and hot with pleasure. A tell-tale sign, warning him of what's to come if he doesn't stop. He sucks in a breath, trying to stave it off, barely hanging on to his control by the tips of his claws because he wants to feel you come around him one more time.
Because twice isn’t enough. Three times won’t be either. Nor would four, five, ten. Miguel’s greedy for you. Selfish. No matter how much you give him, it will never be enough. He will always want more of you.
More of your soft body pressed up against every inch of his. More of your eyes looking back at him, glazed over as if you have no coherent thoughts left in that pretty head of yours. He wants all of that and more. Another orgasm. Another fuck. Another kiss. One more breath. Just more, more, more.
He curls his hand around your throat, feels the chaotic race of your pulse under his fingertips.
"Come for me, nena," he demands, "I need it. Need to feel you." 
He tilts your face up, your back arched like a bow towards him. So fragile. So trusting, that you let him do this to you. 
He dips down to claim your lips, snapping his hips into yours faster now. Ramping up the pace as he chases his inevitable climax, forcing you to yours. 
You whimper and keen with each thrust, eyes rolling wildly. Your mouth hangs open, panting out sweet, stuttered moans that he swallows in a bruising kiss. Your whole body tenses under him, going rigid, then your pretty pussy starts clenching down around him as you come again.
This time, Miguel can't hold himself back. Doesn't even try. Lets himself succumb to the sight, the sounds, the smell, the feel of you surrounding him, coming for him. His stomach draws in tight, toes curling into the sheets, as he can feel his balls drawing up, cock swelling further as he manages a last few ragged thrusts. Then he’s tumbling over the edge with you, burying himself as deep as he can as the unforgiving bliss rises and spreads, blotting out everything else.
It's endless. Pulses after devastating pulse that won't stop. He comes and comes and comes, emptying himself inside of you until he's lightheaded, barely able to hold himself.
No amount of supernatural stamina can help him in this moment. Not when he can feel his spend filling you to capacity and more, so full that it starts leaking out of you, down the line of your thighs and onto his. His strength gives out, and he collapses into the bed, bringing you down with him.
The two of you lay there, trying to catch your breath. You’re trapped under his weight, your small back heaving under his larger chest, sweat slicking your skin to his. He has no desire to move. Shifts slightly to the side, a concession to your need to breathe, but refuses to go farther than that. He wants to keep you right here, covered and cocooned by his body. 
You tilt your head until you can peek over your shoulder at him. There's a look in your eyes, one that he has only ever seen on you. One just for him, filled with exasperated fondness, heat and loving familiarity. One he wouldn’t give up for anything.
"You're getting me new panties."
A warm huff of laughter escapes him. The bright warm glow in his chest spreads outwards, filling him with contentment.
"Sure, nena."
"And coffee in the morning," you add.
He hums in agreement because that's fair. You're going to be in zombie mode otherwise.
"And cupcakes for breakfast," you finish triumphantly.
Miguel turns his head to observe you, the way you're trying to hide that satisfied grin into the pillow to not betray how fucking over the moon you are right now after he's fucked you silly.
Smartass. Always pushing your damn luck. But it's not like he's going to ever say no to you is it?
He puts on a show of sighing loudly with mock exasperation. "From Gladis, yeah?”.
You nod into your pillow.
"Mmhmm."
He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, circling his arm around your waist, easily pulling you to his side.
The rain is still pouring down outside, but here in bed with your warm body pressed up against his side, the sound of it pitter-pattering against the window is almost soothing. He can feel his eyes slipping closed as it lulls him off to sleep. 
The rain isn’t so bad when you’re warm and safe in his arms. Nothing is, as long as you’re here with him. 
He’ll keep you safe. 
Always.
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Credits and Dedications: I have to give so so so so much credit to my clown-in-crime @thirstworldproblemss poor woman doesn't even go here, and spent the whole of her evening writing porn to me in my DMs. 90% of the porny parts have been written by her. So for all those who enjoyed this, please go to her inbox and send her much deserved love!!!
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likeumeanit9497 · 22 days
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in the clouds | m.s. |
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matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: matt is taking y/n home to boston to meet his parents for the first time, and y/n would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. but once they've been in the air for a few hours and boredom begins to get to them both, they find a way to occupy themselves.
warnings: smut; established relationship; mutual masturbation; p in v; dirty talk; a little fluff if you squint; unprotected sex; 18+
notes: i wrote this suuuuper quick so def not my best work, but it's been a while since i posted something so i wanted to get something up here. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
“Have a great flight.” The lady at the terminal gate said to me with a smile as she handed me my scanned ticket. “Thank you.” I replied before walking towards my boyfriend, Matt, who was waiting for me a few feet ahead. Once I reached him, he grabbed my hand and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “You ready?” He asked, to which I inhaled a deep breath and nodded apprehensively.
Matt and I met at a party about eight months ago, and had hit it off right away. I had been drawn in by his sunken blue eyes and withdrawn behaviour that night, but grew hooked by his kind nature and complex personality once we began speaking regularly. We made it official less than a month after meeting, and had been inseparable since. Our relationship developed into something quite serious rather quickly, but things still somehow felt new and exciting everyday.
Today, we were flying back to his hometown in Boston, where I was going to meet his parents for the first time. Although he had reassured me countless times that MaryLou and Jimmy were going to love me, I couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by meeting two of the most important people in Matt’s life. Not only that, but I had also never been in a relationship that grew serious enough to meet the parents of my significant other before now; so the unknown territory made the whole ordeal all the more daunting.
Matt’s triplet brothers Chris and Nick had left for Boston the day before, as I had to stay in Los Angeles an extra day for work. This added another unsettling element, as I had grown so used to the presence of the other two on a day-to-day basis. However, what that meant was Matt and I had a good excuse to buy first class tickets instead of the usual economy tickets. This brought me some relief, as I had never sat in first class before and knew that I would be able to relax much easier than I had on previous flights.
Arriving at the front of the plane, we were guided by the flight attendant to the fifth row of seats and I gasped. In front of me was a spacious row with just two large seats. The seats were joined together — separated only by an arm rest — but both had a ridiculous amount of leg room, and there was even a privacy curtain available to use at the end of the aisle.
“Oh my god Matt, this one row is almost as big as my entire bedroom at home!” I exclaimed excitedly before hurrying into my window seat. Matt chuckled before following me into the row and getting comfortable in his own seat beside mine. “I take it you like it?” He asked sarcastically, though I still nodded my head like an enthusiastic toddler. “Well, get settled in baby. We’ve got a five and a half hour flight ahead of us.” He leaned over the cushioned arm rest between our seats and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I sighed at the reminder before investigating the small gift bundle beside my seat. There were a few snacks, some travel-sized toiletries, and a pillow and blanket; I couldn’t help but squeal from excitement. “Holy shit Matt! Look at this stuff!” I quickly unfolded the blanket and wrapped myself in it as he did the same. “I know, it’s cool right. And it doesn’t stop there, watch this.” Matt smirked before reaching under his chair, when suddenly his seat reclined all the way back and transformed into a bed.
“WHAT?” I exclaimed before searching under my own seat for the recline handle. I giggled as my chair fell back and I was suddenly horizontal. “Oh my god, I am in heaven.” I sighed blissfully, stretching my arms above my head in bliss. “And look,” Matt continued, reaching for the arm rest and pushing it back so that it became flush with our beds, “Now we just have one big bed to share.” He giggled before scooting closer to my side while simultaneously grabbing my waist and pulling me into him. I laughed and rolled over so that I could face him; propping myself up on my elbow and gazing down at him. “Thank you Matty.” I said before planting a gentle kiss on his eyelid. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/n,” He chuckled, “I just can’t wait for my parents to meet you.” My heart fluttered from his words, and I repositioned my body so that I could curl into his.
“I can’t wait to meet them, either. I mean, I’m nervous as fuck but I really do want to get to know the two people who created you three weirdos.” I closed my eyes, feeling my body relax as the plane began moving down the tarmac. Matt mindlessly rubbed my back as we laughed, just waiting for the unmistakable sensation of the plane taking off.
Once we were finally in the air, I rolled over to fetch my air pods from my backpack. “Let’s listen to some music, I can’t stand all this white noise in here.” I said, handing the left pod to Matt and keeping the right for myself. Once they were secured in both of our ears, I scrolled through my Spotify account to find mine and Matt’s shared playlist before hitting shuffle. I fell onto my back and closed my eyes as the music played in both of our ears; growing more and more comfortable as my eyes grew heavy and the sensation of sleep began to overtake me.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
I was awoken from my deep sleep by the sound of a baby wailing a few aisles behind me. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I woke with a startle before remembering that I was on a plane. Slightly disoriented, I checked the time on my phone to discover that we had been in the air for four hours. I was shocked that I was able to sleep that long on a flight, since usually in the economy seats I would struggle to even get 45 minutes of true rest. I looked to my right at Matt’s sleeping figure. He was lying on his stomach with his peaceful face turned in my direction — very clearly having as deep of a sleep as I was previously having. His dark eyelashes fluttered slightly every now and then, and due to the way his face pressed against the small pillow, his pink lips were squished into an exaggerated pout.
Admiring his undeniable beauty, I had to resist the urge to lean over and pepper him with kisses. Instead, I went on my phone and began scrolling through our music playlist. After queuing a few songs, I moved onto my camera roll to kill some time as I felt boredom begin to overtake me. I felt like the biggest loser ever as I scrolled through the countless photos I had taken of Matt and I over the past few months with a corny smile plastered to my face. We truly had spent nearly every single day together since that first night that we met, and I had been sure to capture as many memories on camera as I could.
I continued to scroll for a few moments before coming across a particular memory that caused me to audibly gasp. It was a video that Matt and I had made about a month before. Our first and only sex tape. Before playing the video, I snuck a glance at Matt to make sure he was still sleeping and turned the volume down to zero so that it wouldn’t play through the air pod that was still resting in his ear. Cautiously, I hit play on the video and watched from Matt’s angle as he pounded into me from behind. To be completely honest, I had totally forgotten that we had taken that video and hadn’t even watched it before, so I stared in awe as our bodies collided again and again. The only issue was that I so badly wanted to hear the audio as my curiosity notoriously got the better of me in situations such as this. I was curious to know what I really sounded like during sex, and knew that listening to the audio was one of the only ways that I could.
Suddenly, I had an idea that would not only allow me to listen but would also have the potential to wake Matt up. Looking at him once again with a smirk across my face, I started the video from the beginning; this time with the volume about halfway up. Instantly, my right ear was filled with the unmistakably erotic sounds of our sex; body parts smacking against one another, loud moans, and the occasional dirty phrase falling from one of our mouths.
With the brightness on my phone turned down low, I watched intently at our moving bodies on my screen. I could only pull my eyes away to take a quick glance at Matt, who was beginning to shift around slightly under the blanket. I watched him for a moment, noticing that his eyes were still closed and he appeared to still be sound asleep. Growing frustrated that he still wasn’t waking up, I turned the sound on my phone to maximum volume just as the recorded version of him and I were reaching our climaxes. The crude noises became more and more erratic as the volume increased, and suddenly Matt’s blue eyes shot open.
He scanned the area frantically, obviously disoriented and confused by the sounds swarming his ears. When his eyes finally met mine and he noticed the playful smile on my face, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Y/n, what the fuck are you watching?” He asked through a chuckle before leaning towards me to take a glance at my phone screen. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” He added once he caught a glimpse of the two of us in the video; falling onto his back and covering his eyes with his crossed arms.
I collapsed into a fit of laughter before innocently replying, “What?”, fluttering my eyelashes and softening my voice. He simply shook his head, but I could see his lips curling into a smile behind his protective arms. “Don’t get me started, baby. Get some rest.” Was his reply, and I grumbled internally. I was far from tired, not only because I had already slept for four hours, but because I had just worked myself up for the past few minutes by watching that video. Still, I reluctantly obliged by hitting shuffle on our playlist once again before finding a comfortable position to attempt to get a bit more sleep.
My eyes were closed, my breathing was steady, but my body was wide awake; so I felt the shift that came from Matt sitting up in the bed. I was laying on my side with my back facing him, but through the soft music playing in my ear I could hear the privacy curtain slide across its rod. My eyes stayed shut as I felt the warmth of his body pressing up against me. I pretended to not feel his hand gently gliding across the curves of my hips, or his hardening member nudging against my thigh. However, once his lips pressed against the sensitive spot on my neck, my body began to fail me in its pretend ignorance. He delicately sucked on my thin skin, and my pulse began to quicken. His cool breath tickled my neck and I shivered in anticipation. His hand slowly traveled from my hip down my stomach, before finally reaching under my waistband towards my core, and I released a shaky breath.
I felt his lips upturn into a smile against my neck at my clear response. “Oh, so you are awake.” He teased, moving his hand away from my heat and resting his chin in the crook of my neck. I opened my eyes to a squint and looked at him. “What are you doing?” I asked with a slight whine in my voice. He scoffed dramatically. “What, you think you could play a video like that and expect me not to get worked up?” I smiled shyly before responding. “I just wanted to wake you. I was bored.” He scooted himself even closer to me, so that now our bodies were pressed tight against each other. “Oh yeah?” He placed a kiss to my neck again, this time tugging lightly at the skin with his teeth. “And what did you want to do to try to counteract this boredom?” He whispered, and my breath hitched as he brought a hand under my shirt and began fondling my sensitive nipples.
I closed my eyes before turning my body so that I was now facing him. “Matt, we are on a plane right now.” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper by the end of my sentence. He smirked before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “That’s what the curtain is for, sweetheart.” My eyes shifted to the space behind him, where the curtain was shut and properly secured by a hook near his head. My focus was brought back to him as I felt his hands gently begin tugging down my sweatpants. “You just have to be quiet for me, okay?” I gulped nervously before nodding my head mindlessly, already growing distracted by the arousal beginning to form in my panties.
Matt pulled me closer to him before placing a soft kiss against my lips. His hand gently ran up and down my inner thigh, just barely grazing my heat with each stroke. He placed another kiss against my lips, this one longer and deeper than the first, and he put his right leg between my knees to prop them up and apart. Our mouths moved against each other in sync, and my hands began to travel through his hair, over his shoulders, and finally down to his stomach. I hissed when he finally cupped his hand over my heat, his thumb just barely resting on my clit. Even through the thin layer of fabric that was my panties, the contact was intense. “Mmm, baby, you’re already so wet for me.” He mumbled gruffly against my lips, causing me to squirm.
“Touch me Matty, please.” I begged softly, my eyes pleading as my core began to throb. He chuckled, our teeth clanking together gently, before attacking my neck with his mouth. “So needy, huh? You want these fingers?” He cooed, sliding two of his fingers — now hooked under my panties — up my slit to collect my juices. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my bottom lip as I nodded frantically. “Mhm.” Was all I managed to get out in response to his question. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He was taunting me, both with his words and with his fingers as he toyed with my outer folds. I squirmed again, shifting slightly so that I was more on my back so that I could widen my legs easier. “N-need your fingers baby.” I managed to groan out, doing my best to keep my voice low so that our actions could go unnoticed by everyone around us.
Now leaning over me slightly, he looked down at me with hooded eyelids and a matching smirk. “That’s my girl.” He replied before finally rubbing circles on my swollen clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I became engulfed in the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation. I opened my eyes to find his traveling across my face. He had clearly been watching me in my state of ecstasy, and his blown out pupils and parted wet lips were clear signs that he was liking what he was seeing. Suddenly, a sharp moan escaped my lips as he plunged two of his fingers into me, and he quickly planted a firm hand over my mouth to prevent any more noises as he curled his fingers in and out of me mercilessly. The sensation became almost too much once he connected the base of his palm to my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his other movements, and almost without thinking I began clawing at the waist band of his sweatpants; desperate to feel more of him.
I pulled his sweats and his boxers down in one swift movement, and immediately began toying with his rock hard cock. Looking up at him as he continued his movements, I brought my hand to my mouth and allowed my collected saliva to drip onto it before bringing it back to his member. I began milking the tip of his cock and immediately noticed a change of pace in his fingers on my cunt. I watched his face as his eyes fluttered shut momentarily and his ears began to grow red. “Fuck, Y/n.” He moaned softly, his words alone enough to drive me crazy. I continued to stroke him, feeling each and every vein along his sizeable shaft, as I felt the familiar tingling sensation of an orgasm fast approaching.
“I-I need more of you Matty. Give me your cock please.” I was really begging now. My legs were beginning to shake and I was close to losing all control, but I wanted to cum around him. I watched as Matt’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as his dick twitched in my hand, a clear sign that my words had an impact on him, too. “Turn on your side.” He commanded, and I immediately obliged. Once I was facing away from him, he wasted no time in lying down beside me — one of his arms wrapped across my chest and massaging my right tit — and sliding his cock into my soaking wet pussy.
We both couldn’t help but release small moans at the satisfying feeling that came from him bottoming out, but he gave me little time to adjust to his size before thrusting into me almost desperately. Using his grasp on my tit, he pushed my back against his chest so that my body was flush with his. “Jesus baby, you’re so tight.” He praised softly, his mouth pressed against my ear as his hips continued to snap against my ass. I couldn’t manage a reply, instead I brought my right hand up to grab onto the back of his neck. I fell into a deep trance from the feeling of my spongey walls stretching and moulding to his cock as if they were two matching puzzle pieces. He left sloppy open mouthed kisses all along my face, growing careless with his movements as the pressure in my lower half began to grow almost unbearable.
“You’re close, aren���t you sweetheart.” He breathed against my hair. I couldn’t do much more than nod my head. “It’s okay, let go. Just be a good girl and stay quiet for me okay?” He used his free hand to once again cover my mouth in anticipation of what might come just as my orgasm bubbled over. I did everything I could to stay silent, but as my orgasm tore through me a plethora of moans fell from my lips and into his gentle hand. My grip on the back of his neck tightened and my back arched away from his torso as I felt the unmistakable warm spurt of fluid stream from my cunt.
Just as I began coming down from my high, Matt released a few short grunts before halting his movements entirely. “Fuuuuck.” His profanity came out in a breathy sigh. His forehead fell to my shoulder, and I could feel his dick pulsating inside of me as he painted my walls with his cum. After a moment, I felt his body relax behind me and he collapsed onto his pillow. For a little while, the only sounds coming from our little corner of the plane was the sound of our ragged breathing as we attempted to regain our composure.
“Well,” Matt eventually began, sitting up and lifting the blanket, exposing the wet spot in the bed that my squirt created, “How are we gonna explain this one?” I took a moment to look at it before sliding my sweats back on. “Easy, we just tell them that you got a little scared of the turbulence and pissed yourself.” He rolled his eyes as he put his pants back on as well, and I laughed. “You’re something else kid.”
Just then, a woman’s voice came from behind the closed curtain. Matt looked at me quickly to ensure that I was fully clothed before opening the curtain and coming face to face with an older flight attendant. “Hi there.” She said, her voice cheerful and her face plastered with a fake smile. “We’re going to be making our landing in Boston in about thirty minutes, please return to an upright position as soon as you can.” Matt nodded his head and gave her a quick smile before she promptly moved down to the next row of flyers. As soon as she was out of earshot, he gave me a cheeky side eye and we both immediately broke into fits of laughter.
“We timed that well.” He said through his laughter and I covered my face with my hands. “I can’t believe we just did that.” I replied, shaking my head as I came to the realization that I had just fucked my boyfriend on a commercial flight. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. “We’re in the mile high club now, baby.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now let’s get our seats back up. Only thirty minutes until you meet my parents!”
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xo-cori · 8 months
Text
as sweet as the sound
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: she’s undeniably talented, but your girlfriend is just a bit too self-critical of her work.
warnings: smut (MDNI), fingersucking, ellie is a filthy bottom idc, they’re a lil high but who isn’t in this economy
a/n: inspired by the piano scene in duck butter… iykyk. title from “to noise making (sing)” by hozier ofc
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Every movement of her fingers against the frets of her guitar has your heart doing flips inside your chest.
She plays an unfamiliar melody. One you’re sure she’s come up with on the spot, which is something she seems to be doing a lot lately. It’s adorable, the way she looks up at you every few seconds to see that captivated expression on your face. Not once has it faltered, and it’s become her biggest inspiration.
You’re sat against the headboard, legs crossed as you watch her from where she sits; right in the middle of the bed, guitar in her lap with a laser-sharp focus.
It doesn’t matter what the next day holds. It doesn’t matter what’s happened every day before this one. The world has gone to madness, but none of that matters here in this dim cocoon of music and smoke.
You reach over to the bedside table so you can press the end of the joint into the ash tray, putting out the flames so that you can set it down. “Sounds so pretty, Els,” you say. “Haven’t heard you sing tonight, though.”
She stops playing for a moment, eyes widening at your words. “Oh– uh, I don’t have anything to sing.” She admits. “It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written something good, actually.”
“You’ve been doing improv all night. What’s different about singing?” You ask.
“The difference is, I suck at improv.” She replies, which makes you roll your eyes.
“Well, I haven’t noticed any mistakes.” You say.
“Because you don’t know the difference between a B sharp and a B flat.” She laughs. “What, you aren’t satisfied with my performance?”
You shake your head. “Oh, I’m satisfied. Just a little underwhelmed.”
She seems taken aback by this, which leads you to let out a quiet laugh. “Joking. I have an idea, though.”
Ellie’s ready to ask about this idea until you begin crawling towards her. The words die in her throat as you place your hands on her knees, leaning over her guitar, then pressing your lips to hers. It’s soft; something simple and loving, though it makes her body feel unbearably hot.
Then, much to her disappointment, you pull back. “What are you doing?” She asks.
“Nothing. Just keep playing.” You instruct her, even though her hands are frozen in place as you continue to crawl until you’re sat on your knees behind her. She feels your warm breath on her neck, the way you press up against her back, and it’s all too much for her to take in at once. “I told you to keep playing,” you whisper right next to her ear.
Hesitantly, Ellie strums a random chord. Then another, and a few more. You wait for her to get back into a rhythm before you slowly run your hands up her waist, under her sweatshirt. Her breath hitches. Suddenly, the guitar sounds like it hasn’t been tuned in years. You don’t seem to mind, though, because it only gets worse when your lips find the crook of her neck. She leans back into you and lets out a shaky sigh. “You’re the worst.” She huffs.
“I’m just making you sing.” You reply.
Your fingers explore the familiar plain of skin as your lips suck bruises right beneath her jaw. Each time the music pauses, she notices, you slow down; and she doesn’t like this one bit, so she does her best to keep playing.
This relentless teasing only continues for a minute or two, but to Ellie, it feels like hours. It really isn’t long before one of your hands finally slip past her stomach until your palm meets the plush skin of her breast. Her fingers flex and falter against the neck of the guitar as you caress her, your other hand quickly coming up to join in on the fun. There’s no sound from Ellie but a gasp, which just isn’t good enough for you.
Her back arches up against you as you take her nipple between your thumb and forefinger, knowing just how sensitive she is and using it to your advantage. This earns you a hushed whimper, your cue to keep going, because you’ve heard just how loud she can be. The guitar doesn’t seem to be making much noise, though.
“Ellie.” You warn, and she immediately strums another note, no longer caring which one (or whether it’s a note at all). It’s not like you’d notice. She’s only terrified that you’ll stop otherwise. As a reward, you begin to roll both of her nipples between your fingers and her mouth falls open into a perfect ‘o’, head falling back against your shoulder.
“Please,” she whines, “please touch me.”
“I am touching you.” You smirk. The guitar is starting to sound worse and worse. “Why? You want more?”
She hums a desperate mm-hmm, and though you’d like to make her beg a little harder, you’re starting to get pretty eager yourself. “Okay.” You give in. “But remember– you stop playing, I stop touching you.”
You don’t wait for any type of response before you’re sliding your right hand down past the waistband of her boxers, wasting no time to find its favorite spot between her legs. She’s already soaked, you think, and it’s a nice boost for your ego. “Fuck,” she groans as your middle finger draws tight circles over her clit. You can feel her muscles tensing, as if she’s struggling to keep her thighs from closing around your hand with the guitar in her way. Finally, you listen as she lets out a soft string of moans, every one unintentionally melodic.
You press a kiss beneath her ear, left hand still shamelessly groping at her chest. “So sensitive tonight,” you coo, “maybe you have a thing for multitasking.”
“Shut up– holy shit,” Ellie pants out, visibly struggling to keep a firm grasp of the guitar. She wants nothing more than to throw this old piece of wood on the ground, but she won’t; only because you’ve told her not to.
Slowly, your fingers slide down through her folds until you can slip them right inside of her. There’s no resistance– quite the opposite, actually– her warm walls clench down and suck you in further. It’s almost pathetic how loudly she moans when you curl your fingers upwards. You can feel the shiver that goes down her spine as you immediately zero in on that one spot with each gentle thrust, while the pad of your thumb attacks her clit. Neither of you can hear the guitar anymore, despite each unpleasant sound it makes.
“Let me stop,” Ellie pleads. “Please, let me stop playing?”
“But you know how much I love your songs,” you say, a fake tone of disappointment in your voice. “I didn’t say you could stop, so I don’t know why you’re asking.”
“I know– fuck, I-I’m sorry–“ She’s cut off by a particularly loud moan, and you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you. As an apology, though, you bring your lips back to her neck and lick a long stripe from her collarbone up to her jaw.
It’s all too much, all at once, and sheer panic runs through Ellie’s body. Each chord she plays is drawn out with a long pause between, as if she keeps forgetting the demand she’s been given. With your hands all over and your hot mouth right on her pulse point, she can’t help the way her body curls back into you. “Gonna cum,” she gasps. “Can I? Please?”
You smile against her neck. “Already?”
Normally, she’d get frustrated by your teasing, but it seems that she doesn’t really process your words. She just nods and lets out another beautiful moan.
Then, you take your hand out of her sweatshirt so you can grab her guitar and toss it to the other side of the bed. Ellie whimpers in relief as you speed up your thrusts and take the lobe of her ear between your teeth. “Go ahead,” you hum.
That’s all the permission she needs. Her hand comes down to cup yours over the dampened fabric of her boxers, an attempt to keep you right there like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Fuck, oh my god, thank you,” Ellie cries out, thighs finally clamping down onto your hand, though your pace doesn’t falter. You work her through her orgasm as she screws her eyes shut and takes a white-knuckled grip of the bedsheets. Her body shudders and, after a few long moments, melts right into yours.
You don’t slow down until she weakly grabs at your wrist, though she doesn’t fight when you go back to gently rubbing at her clit. It’s slow, enough to calm her through the aftershocks while you listen to her hoarse whimpers and sighs. She’s gone completely limp against you now, focusing on keeping still as she fights off the urge to tug your hand away completely. “There we go,” you smile.
Finally, you remove your hand from her boxers– but you aren’t done with her yet. Without another word, you slip your coated fingers past her lips, which close around your knuckles with no hesitation. Her tongue licks you clean as she moans at the lingering taste of herself. It feels as though all of her bones have turned to dust, though you don’t seem to mind. This only lasts for a few seconds before you take your fingers out of her mouth so that you can wrap your arms around her. “That was a hell of a performance.” You tell her.
“Fuck you.” She breathes. “Never do that again.”
“But you liked it so much.” You point out. “You’ve never cum that fast.”
Despite how hard she tries to seem upset, she can’t stop the smile that breaks through to her face. “Yeah, actually,” she admits, tilting her head to look at you. “I’ve sang better, though.”
“I know. Just wish you weren’t so shy,” you say.
“I’m not shy,” she mumbles.
“You’re shy and stubborn.” You add, but before she can come up with some sleepy retaliation, you’re leaning down to kiss her, and she swears she gets the same sparks that she did when you kissed her for the first time. One of her hands come up to the nape of your neck as her lips lazily move against yours, trying her best with very little energy. So, you’re quick to pull away before she can try to turn it into something more. “Let’s lay down, baby. You’ve got patrol in the morning.”
“Fuck patrol,” she grunts, lifting her head to pepper kisses across your cheek.
“Yeah,” you agree, “fuck patrol.”
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waldau · 2 months
Text
hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff
slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.
gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?
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dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.
when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.
it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.
or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.
dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?
now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.
but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.
he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."
you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."
he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."
you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."
dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."
"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"
"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"
you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."
he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.
"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."
dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"
you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."
"good."
you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.
but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.
"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.
"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"
dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.
"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.
he shrugs. "i don't know."
it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.
"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."
dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"
"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."
he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.
he loves you.
there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.
dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.
he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.
"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.
"stop what?"
"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."
the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"
"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."
pensive? when he's tired?
"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.
you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.
"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.
"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."
dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.
"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."
as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.
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joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.
the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.
there's just one person missing from the chaos.
dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.
joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.
but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.
joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."
"are you seriously thanking me for that?"
"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."
you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."
"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."
you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.
joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae
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lialacleaf · 10 months
Text
To Care For A Woman
Chapter 1
Simon Riley x Reader
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Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not... Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception I'm sorry it's unedited...
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Simon's POV
A fear tactic. That's what Johnny called it. The infamous Ghost. The Reaper of The Night. The man, myth, and legend that was coming to act as a vengeful reaper and mercilessly take the lives of those who got in his way.
His reputation preceded him. A reputation he never intended to have. The point was never to be something for others to fear. A Ghost couldn't be seen. A Ghost couldn't be touched. Most importantly, a Ghost couldn't be hurt. Simon was safe if he was dead.
Until he wasn't.
You were just some stupid rooky who joined the army so they'd pay for your college tuition. You had the same sob story most people did. No money, no marital prospects, and not enough education to obtain a job that would sustain you in a struggling economy. No one was coming to save you, so you made a decision to save yourself.
"Mom and Dad were barely making things work financially, I couldn't be a burden anymore," you explained once as you sat next to Soap in the helicopter, your head barely reaching the shoulders of the men and women you were seated around.
It made Ghost's stomach drop, no, Simon's stomach. You were fragile and had no business having that battle rifle in your small, soft hands. People like you were supposed to have options. At least Simon believed so.
How was he supposed to give you orders as if he didn't know you had a higher chance of not making it back? He just wanted to leave you on base, wrapped up in bubble wrap for good measure. When he looked into your eyes there was still a softness there, a feminine light that hadn't been beaten out of you just yet. The idea of seeing it vanish terrified him. It made his chest ache.
You didn't need to know that however, and as far as anyone knew, Lieutenant Ghost despised you. He told you to secure the landing zone for when they got back or left you behind to keep watch on every mission possible. You were convinced the large, masked man saw you as a disgrace to the 141 and was embarrassed to have such a small fry on his team. At least that was the gossip you picked up here and there. He didn't want you to see any action, that much was clear.
"You're up late."
Simon glanced in your direction as he stirred the honey in his tea, his grip on the chipped mug, the porcelain stained on the inside from many years of holding hot coffee, tightening ever so slightly. You were seated in one of the kitchen chairs, legs folded in on yourself as you sipped at your own steaming mug.
He didn't respond and went about dumping his tea bag in the wastebasket. He needed to not look at you in your soft leggings that hugged your figure with that baggy 141 sweatshirt that despite being a size small was still too big for you. You'd be swallowed whole in his clothes, and that was a sight that a very primal part of his brain wanted to see.
There was something about you being so delicate that made him want to press his lips against the curve of your jaw and tell Price to go to hell for not assigning you more office work instead of sending you out with his men.
He had to keep his mind in his upstairs brain, however, lest he risk your life and others in the field. He wouldn't be responsible for you getting hurt.
"I'm sorry," you said all of a sudden.
"What for?" he didn't look up from his mug as he took a sip.
"For being...being a liability that you have to plan for."
He let out a tired sigh. "What happened to going to college?" he disregarded your apology.
"What?"
"Heard you tell Soap you joined the army so you could get into college, that clearly never happened."
You coughed awkwardly. "I got a little lost along the way." You didn't know what to study. Didn't know where to apply. Didn't know what you really wanted out of it other than a career that would make you money. "The 141 offered me a good salary, no need to waste tax dollars on a degree I wouldn't even know what to do with."
You shouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing. You should have someone taking care of all of that so you could read books, go on walks, and grow a garden. You didn't seem like the type who worked because they wanted to, you did it because you had to.
The part of Simon that had watched his mother go to work grueling hours at the local diner just to support his father's addictions hated that. The part of him that had watched her slowly lose her feminine glow and replace it with withered steel to accommodate the survival of herself and her boys stung. He wasn't supposed to feel this hurt. He was supposed to be a Ghost. But the overwhelming urge to care for you was making that difficult.
He set his tea down on the counter and let out a huff as he approached you. Your hair was wet, and you had clearly just come from the shower. He suspected you showered later to avoid the others, specifically the men.
And boy did that thought have him grinding his teeth. If you were his woman, you'd be using his own private quarters to clean up. No prying eyes, not even his own.
"What would you have done if none of that was of any concern?" he asked, and you let out a soft little laugh.
"You'd have me anywhere but here, huh?" you said with a raised brow.
Simon tilted his masked face downward to pin you with a stare that made you swallow thickly, brown eyes boring into your own.
He'd have you dolled up in his cabin back home doing whatever the hell you pleased, painting pretty pictures, baking sweet bread, he bet you would like riding horses too.
"I'd have you safe, y/n."
He didn't say another word to you as he turned around, picked up his mug, and left you to watch him go with wide eyes.
~
He didn't want to take you on the mission, but Price said they needed someone small enough to sneak in through the warehouse's ventilation system and gather intel.
Price told him not to worry, and that you were a clever girl. That didn't ease his mind in the slightest. He had the scope of his sniper trained on the building, watching for any alarming movement.
"Confirmed intel on the location of the arms dealer and their client, ready to regroup, L.T.?" you whispered into your radio.
"Affirmative, meet us at evac," he replied, motioning for Soap to follow him. The other soldiers under his command had been circling the warehouse from a distance, looking for any sign of trouble. He had just about allowed his shoulders to relax when the alarms started.
Ghost whipped his head around as a slew of curses left Soap's lips. "What'd the little lass do now?" he muttered, but Ghost didn't hear him, having already taken off towards the warehouse.
He was already planning how he was going to chew you out for not being careful enough when he saw trucks approaching in the distance. It wasn't you that set the alarms off, it was some rag-tag terrorist group on their way to rob the warehouse. And you were going to be right in the middle of it.
"L/N! What's your status?" he demanded over the radio. His men were already being pulled into the firefight. It wasn't until he was nearing the warehouse that he finally had eyes on you, your small form crouched behind a stack of crates.
"L/N, Move!" he shouted, providing you with enough cover to make a run for the evac. He watched as you took off, running as fast as your small legs could carry you. He was so distracted with you that the sting of the bullet in his shoulder came as a shock.
Seconds later he was knocked to the ground, by a kick to the back of his leg, and a strained grunt left his chest. His head snapped up as his attacker stood above him, prepared to finish him off with a bullet between his eyes.
But then he stopped, and Ghost's eyes narrowed at the sound of running feet slamming against the ground. He felt his heart sink watching you throw yourself at his attacker, knife in hand.
No. It wasn’t going to work. He was bigger than you, and you didn't have a clue what you were doing. You were going to die for him. Because of him. He'd never hated himself more.
He had to watch the man rip the knife from your hand and drive it into your knee, his anger boiling over as his attacker pushed you away as if you were as threatening as a sunflower stalk.
You fell to the ground in a sobbing heap, and that sound alone had Simon reaching for the man's sidearm despite the pain in his shoulder. There was a bullet in his throat before he even noticed that the Lieutenant was no longer lying flat on his back.
"L.T.? Where are you? Evac is here?" Soap's voice chimed over the radio, but Ghost ignored him as he hefted your small form into his arms.
"Shh shh, hold on f' me now. Done so good so far. Gotta finish the mission," he murmured as he squeezed you against his chest. "M' not leavin' you here," he promised, trudging towards the evac site.
"L.T.?" Soap tried once again, but Ghost didn't answer. It was too much to think, too much to hit the button on his radio as he tried to hold you in a manner that wouldn't make you cry out in pain.
"Almost there, love."
AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Next chapter will be in Reader's POV!
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theemissuniverse · 8 months
Text
“NEVER TELL” SYZOTH X COMEDIC RELIEF FEM!READER
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SUMMARY : You have a crush on Syzoth and it’s obvious to everyone but him
WARNINGS : MINORS DONT INTERACT. Nothing major but mentions of Syzoth getting “hard” implied smut and descriptive kissing
MASTERLIST
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You and the Earthrealm gang, (Johnny, Kenshi, Raiden, and Kung Lao) were in Outworld trying to figure out how Shang Tsung escaped his prison.
The five of you were were walking with Syzoth leading the way. Your friends watched as your eyes dreamily focused on Syzoth.
You took Syzoth’s hand as you walked. “I think we should hold hands. So I don’t get lost.”
Syzoth responded only by interlocking your fingers together and holding your hand. You gasped at this and turned back to your fellow Earthrealm friends.
They gave you a thumbs up and you looked back to face forward.
“How long do you think it’s gonna take for Syzoth to realize (Y/N) has a crush on him?” Raiden whispered to the group.
“From how (Y/N) is acting…I’d give it five to ten minutes.” Kenshi said.
“Please.” Kung Lao started. “Syzoth couldn’t even tell when Ashrah had a thing for him.”
“Maybe he’s purposely ignoring Ash because he wants (Y/N).” Johnny suggested. “I mean who would you rather bang? A demon with a magic wand or an actual human that can kick ass?”
“A demon with a magic wand.” Kung Lao stated like it was obvious.
“Shut up, Kung Lao.”
Everybody reached to the prison where Shao was being kept. Syzoth stopped holding your hand and went to open the door.
When he opened it, he walked in further, keeping everyone behind him. Shao was chained up so he could not escape. “Wow, do you look ridiculous.” Johnny told him.
Shao looked at him annoyed before turning his attention to Syzoth. “You bring me Earthrealmers. Why?”
“We know that Shang Tsung is escaped. You were his cell mate. Which means you know he escaped. How did he escape?”
“Ha! I will not tell you.”
Syzoth tilted his head at him. That was a big mistake. He then looked back to the rest of you. “I would take a step back.”
Everyone but you took a step back. You just looked at him like you were in love, offering a lovingly sigh.
Syzoth turned back to Shao and transformed into his true form. Your Earthrealm friends jumped back at the sight a little while you were unbothered. They still weren’t used to it as Syzoth was normally in human form when he was with them.
Shao tried to back up but he could not. Syzoth grabbed him by the throat with his rough hands. His mouth started to create acid. Then his tongue came out and the acid was falling onto Shao’s leg.
The Earthrealmers looked like they were going to throw up but not you. You just looked in love. “Isn’t he dreamy?” When you saw the look your friends gave you, you shrugged. “What?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you needed therapy?” Johnny asked you.
“A few but in this economy? Please.”
Shao continued to scream as the acid was burning almost all of his flesh from his thigh off. “Stop! I give in! Stop!”
Syzoth stopped torturing him. He backed away from him and turned back into his human form. You tilted your head, confused. “So is nobody gonna question how he spawns with an outfit or…?”
Your question being ignored, Shao finally tells. “The guards that locked us up in chains gave us the wrong ones. I have the anti magic chains and he had the regular metal ones.”
“Yet you allowed him to escape and never told.” Raiden thought out loud. “Which means you were getting something in return.”
“He said he’d come back for me once everything was done.”
“Once what was done?” Syzoth questioned.
“He did not say.”
Syzoth turned to you and your friends. “We must regroup at the palace and think of a plan to capture Shang Tsung.”
Everyone agreed. They started to walk out the prison cell. After Syzoth was done locking it back up, he held out his hand for you to take. You giggled a little and took his hand. Then the two of you walked away.
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Everyone was in the place in the planning room. Syzoth had a map on the table where everything was at. “He could’ve gone back to his old lab.” Syzoth said. “We have not had the ability to get rid of all his foul experiments.”
“He could be back in Earthrealm. He still has a vendetta against Lord Liu Kang because of his destiny in this timeline.” Raiden suggested.
“He could try to attack the palace. Empress Mileena was the one who put him there.” Kenshi also suggested.
Syzoth thought for a moment of the plan. When he thinks of something, he nods. “Raiden and Kung Lao, go back to Earthrealm. Make sure nothing threatens it. Johnny and Kenshi stay at the palace and help the Empress protect it. (Y/N) and I will go back to his lab and see if we can spot him.”
You almost fainted. You and Syzoth alone? Something you always dreamed of but were also too scared to do. You clutched your arm around Syzoth’s. “I think that’s a great plan.”
Syzoth did not notice your behavior and instead looked at everyone. “Is that alright with everyone?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” Kenshi told him.
“Just be careful.” Raiden said more so to you and Syzoth.
“We will.” Syzoth reassured him.
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You and Syzoth were heading towards Shang Tsung’s old laboratory. As the two of you walked, you heard a noise coming from the trees. You immediately clutched onto Syzoth. “What was that?”
Syzoth rubbed your back reassuringly. “This is the Living Forest. Souls remain here.”
“Oh. That’s freaky.” You pulled yourself away from Syzoth. The two of you continue walking. “It’s nice that you picked me for this mission. Nobody ever picks me.”
Syzoth looked at you curiously. “What do you mean?”
“I screw up a lot. Like a lot, a lot. So, no one likes being around me.”
“Your Earthrealm friends seem to not mind you.”
“Yeah, but I think it’s just because they feel sorry for me.” You sighed a little while looking down. “Lord Liu Kang even looks at me differently. I just know it.”
Syzoth felt bad. He of all people knew what it felt like to be an outcast. He took your hand and rubbed it reassuringly. “I’m sure that’s not true. I like you.”
Your eyes beamed in pure joy when he said that. “You do?”
“You’re bright and fun to be around. I don’t know how anyone could not like you.”
Him saying that boosted your confidence up. You dusted your shoulder slightly. “You’re right. I am amazing.”
He chuckled at you. “There’s the (Y/N) I know.”
The two of you made it out of the living forest and were just walking on regular ground. “You know I don’t know why you got banished. I would never banish a hot guy.”
Something in Syzoth clicked. All the hand holding, the excuses to touch him, the sly remarks you would make-all of that made sense to him.
You liked him.
“You think I’m attractive?” He teased slightly.
The realization hit you like a brick. You stopped in your tracks making Syzoth stop as well. You pulled your hand away from him. “No. I didn’t say that. I would never say that.” Then you realized what you said. “Not that you’re ugly. Just that as a friend I would never say that about another friend because that friend would-“
Syzoth watched as you rambled. He stared into your eyes and something in him wanted to shut you up. Syzoth cupped the back of your neck with his left hand and kissed you.
You stood there, shocked at the notion. You didn’t even have time to kiss him back. He pulled away from you.
You blinked a little. “What-what was that for?”
“I don’t know…” Syzoth seemed to be confused with himself too. “You were panicking, then I started to panic…then you just looked so pretty and your lips looked so-“
Syzoth was cut off by his own rambling when you kissed him. Syzoth kissed you back.
He brought you closer by your waist before clutching the back of your head with his right hand. He licked at your bottom lip and you moaned. That allowed him to stick his tongue inside your mouth.
You moaned even more as his tongue felt amazing. Syzoth grunted at your moans and felt himself getting hard.
He picked you up by your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed you up against a tree and continued to make out with you.
“We should probably stop.” Syzoth said in the kiss.
“We probably should.” You said back.
The two of you continued to make out with your tongues connecting. “I have a confession.” Syzoth started to kiss on your neck. “I don’t want to stop.”
You moaned lightly at his kisses. “Me neither.”
Syzoth sucked on your neck and you moaned louder. He continued to nibble and bite at your good spots but then finally pulled away. “I don’t want to have you this way, though.” Syzoth gently placed you down at your feet.
You looked a little disappointed. “Oh…”
Syzoth noticed your disappointment and he gave you butterfly kisses on your face. You giggled at the touch, making him smile. “When we make love I want it to be perfect.”
Your eyes widen a little. “When? Like it will happen?”
“If you want.”
You giggled dreamily at him. “Are my dreams coming true?”
Syzoth chuckled some as he found you cute. He placed another kiss on your lips. “Come on. Let’s hurry up and get this over with so we can go back at it.” He grabbed your hand and walked with you.
You should’ve told him he was hot waaaay sooner.
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bambikisss · 9 months
Text
Dream Ride :  C. Seung Cheol
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🎶:: HOT - Seventeen, Bark like you want it- SirMixAlot
🖤 :: Strangers to lovers, blonde SeungCheol, motorcycle! SeungCheol, nonidol! SeungCheol
📙:: You haven't been able to sleep much lately, so you've been driving around at night to help ease your mind. However, you keep passing by the same jet black colored motorcycle every night, which then keeps showing up in your dreams. So when you stop one night to get gas and see the same motorcycle stopped nearby, you decide to meet the man under the helmet.
❤️ :: Unprotected Sex (always wrap it up), slight biting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving),slight size kink (I mean SeungCheol is big soo-) nicknames used (baby, babygirl, princess, angel), slight mix of soft dom/ hard dom, fucking till "dumb", SeungCheol's big di-
Bambi's note: Hello everyone! I recently took a bit of a break as I had some things that I just had to take care of. But, while I was gone, I kept thinking about SeungCheol so here is what was in my mind all this time while I was gone. It is a bit longer than usual, but trust me, it's worth it.
REBLOGS / COMMENTS ARE ENCOURAGED | NOT PROOFREAD
You used to love the night. Now, you hated it more than anything.
You worked hard all day at an office job that had you thinking often if it was worth quitting it or not before always deciding that in today's economy, you needed this job.
So getting home after work should be what you look forward to, right?
You wished.
You would often return home from work in a daze, kicking off your shoes before you fell face first into your sofa, screaming your heart out into the cushions before you would finally go about your night routine: take a shower, cook dinner, clean up, mentally prepare yourself for work tomorrow, and finally sleep. But, as of recently, that last part didn't seem to come to you so easily. You would seemingly toss and turn for hours on end, your body not wanting to give in and let you rest like you ever so desperately wanted.
You would eventually sit up, put on a hoodie and shorts, grab your car keys, and go for a drive. You don't know why you often went for a drive to clear your head before you slept, the idea coming to your head after watching a random late night show and a celebrity talked about doing it. You then became instantly influenced and now it became a habit.
You felt at ease as you passed the street lights at a leisurely pace, some random R&B playing through your car's speakers as you admired the night scenery. You had to hand it to that celebrity; you did feel much calmer than before. You felt like you were in a movie. You often wondered why life couldn't be like this often, why your mind couldn't just let you rest without having to drive around the empty streets. It was as if your mind was searching for something that the empty night roads could only answer.
As you pulled up to a red light, preparing to go home before your thoughts became even deeper, you heard the sound of a familiar rumble of a motorcycle. You turned your head to the side to see a beautiful black motorcycle pull up beside you, the city lights reflecting off of it's surface as a man sat perched on it. You always saw that same motorcycle out during your nightly drives, offering the man a friendly wave before going your separate ways when the light turns green. It somehow comforted you knowing that someone else was up so late, needing a night drive too.
Once you arrived home, you tossed away your keys before dragging your finally tired body back to your bed, getting comfortable back in your sheets before closing your eyes with a small smile on your face as you finally fall asleep.
~.~
"Fuck"
Your voice was just above a whisper as you felt his hands move up your legs, pressing your hips back down against the mattress as his long tongue moves along your wet slit before dipping into you, curling the tip of his tongue as you arch your back. It felt so good, your eyes closing as you feel the man moaning against you, his deep voice praising you as he confidently eats you out. You can't help but grab his hair, your eyes still closed as your legs tighten around his head, your hips rutting against his face as you felt your orgsam approaching quickly.
"Yes, Yes"
Right before your orgsam can fully wash over you, though, your eyes snap open to the sound of your alarm clock letting you know that it's time to get ready for work. You sigh before tossing your head back in frustration against your pillow, your body slowly calming down from the heat of your dream before you sit up again. As you ran your hands through your hair, your mind flashes back to the dream you were ripped from. It all felt so real, yet not.
"I can't keep having this dream"
You've been having the same dream with the same mystery man for a while now. All you could remember seeing was his muscular arms and his muscular chest and legs, but never his face. You could even remember his blonde hair, but that's it. You often wondered why you never saw his face, but knew that whoever your mind had conjured up was good with his tongue and hands, always driving you so close to an orgsam right before you woke up.
You sighed as you finished getting ready for work, your mind (and body) thinking about that man and the night dream you were going to have again.
~.~
"Maybe he was someone I had seen in a movie before?"
You sat in your car once more as you tried to figure out who that man was. You didn't even try to sleep tonight, deciding to go straight for the night drive so that you could get more sleep. You bit your lip as the sunset slowly turned into night as you drove, your mind busy as you tried to piece together the man in your mind from the parts of him you did see; his muscular arm and biceps, his veiny hands, his blonde hair, his strong body...
"Shit, really?" You cursed softly as you noticed your fuel light come on, letting you know that you need to stop and get fuel soon. You sigh, turning into a nearby gas station. Maybe you were just over thinking it, maybe he was just some wet fantasy your mind thought of out of thin air. You move out of your car, going inside to pay before returning outside.
As you walk outside, you suddenly notice the same jet black motorcycle you always see out on the road at night parked in front of your own car at a different pump. This was your first time seeing it so up close and in an actual light other than the faint street lights and moonlight. You couldn't help but admire it as you walked closer, noticing how clean yet sleek it looked. You didn't understand why you were so suddenly interested in the motorcycle, but you couldn't look away. You slowly reached out to touch it, the tip of your finger moving along the seat as you felt a shiver move through you.
"Do you like it?" You jump at the sound of a deep male voice, turning to face the man, an apology already half way out of your lips when your eyes meet the face of the nightrider.
You couldn't help but pause when you met his face, softly cursing under your breath as your mind pieced together where you mind was getting the random man in your dreams from. You admired his tight white tshirt, his muscular arms and biceps on display along with his tight jeans. Your eyes moved around him, noticing his gloved hands, one hand holding his black leather wallet while the other held his matching black helmet. When your eyes soon moved back up to meet his eyes again, you noticed his blonde hair blowing in the wind, one of his eyebrows raised at your silence and lack of response.
He was the man your mind had kept putting into your dreams.
You jumped again when he cleared his throat, another apology leaving your lips as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the memories of your wet night dreams, your mind now placing his face on the figure that was often in between your legs.
You needed help.
While you apologized, the man chuckled, shaking his head before he walked closer to you, placing his helmet down onto his bike handle before placing both of his hands onto your shoulder, waiting till you opened your eyes before he spoke, his voice deep as he says "It's alright. You can admire it all you'd like, princess."
You felt your knees almost buckle at not only his voice, but the way he called you princess. Your mind then flashed back to a dream where you faintly heard his voice as he kissed up your thighs, whispering "you look so pretty for me, Princess. It's time to feel good." You originally thought your mind was just choosing a voice it knew you found sexy, but after hearing it from his mouth, it made you wonder not only when you heard his voice, but how your mind knew to add it to the dream.
"So, you're the woman I keep passing by late at night when I go on my nightly rides, huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts as you nodded, noticing how he was now admiring you car. It wasn't anything too special, but was a pretty white, shinning compared to his dark motorcycle. "Yeah, you must be the guy who always stops at the same stoplight as me right before I go home." You chose to hold back mentioning how he was also the man in your dreams getting your near your orgsam right before you woke up. You didn't want to deal with that embarrassment.
He nodded, his mind flashing back to the many nights he's pulled up by your car, looking over to see you give him a tired yet friendly wave before the light turned green. He always appreciated your kindness, even though you were always so tired. He often felt worried about you, though, sometimes thinking about getting off his bike to check on you, but never doing so. But, now that you were right in front of him, he couldn't help but admire you. You looked so different in the brighter lights than in your dim car and street lights, no, you looked much happier.
You suddenly held out your hand, not wanting this moment to be wasted as you introduced yourself to him. He smiled at you before his larger hand gently cupped yours, shaking it as he said "Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I'm SeungCheol." You smiled at his own smile, both of your hands still holding each others for a bit longer before you slowly removed it from his, laughing softly as SeungCheol let out a small "ah" in embarrassment before chuckling. He seemed so sweet despite what you may have thought due to his choice of vehicle. You needed to learn to not judge a book by it's cover, you guessed.
As you both began to pump gas, you both made small talk, getting to know one another and enjoying each other's company. It felt nice, almost natural as you both spoke. Soon SeungCheol finished pumping gas into his motorcycle, moving to lean against the pump as you both continued talking. He felt no need to speed off as no one else was there and he wanted to get to know you more. He smiled as you laughed at something he said before he decided it was time to ask the question that was on his mind since he first saw you out driving at night.
"So, Y/N, if you don't mind me asking, why do you drive around so late at night?" You hummed at his question before you shrugged, turning to face him as you put your gas pump back. "As of lately, I haven't really been able to sleep well, so I just started driving. It helped me clear my head, so I guess I just kept doing it I guess."
"Is it because of your dreams?" At SeungCheol's question, you instantly shake your head, making him laugh. If only he knew, you thought.
"So you're just trying to get tired? Ah, well you must have some great dreams then" SeungCheol watched your face at his words, noticing how your cheeks seem to heat up at his comment. He couldn't help but feel more interested, a playful smile moving onto his lips as he asks "what are you dreaming about anyways, Y/N?" You at first don't respond, not wanting to give away that you had been dreaming about him for the past couple of weeks.
"What about you? Why do you ride so late at night?" You shake off his question with one of your own, making him chuckle. He obliges, though, saying "Well, I like how empty the roads are at that time. I sometimes get a bit anxious about riding around so many people or high traffic areas, so I just ride then." You nod, meeting his eyes again with a smile before he walks closer to you, a small smirk on his face as he notices your eyes moving to once again look over his body. There was something about you that he couldn't shake, it made him feel excited, hot, wanted.
"So, are you going to tell me what you've been dreaming about or do I have to guess, Y/N?" You couldn't help but bite you lip as SeungCheol continued to walk closer to you, making you back up against your car. You suddenly felt your back become pressed against your car as his strong chest pressed against yours, his gloved hands moving to press against your hips, pressing you fully against the car as his eyes met yours, slowly darkening as he repeated his question, this time slower. You felt your body heat up due to the contact and the way his eyes met yours, your mind constantly thinking back to your dreams. With how forward he was being and with how good his hands felt on your hips, your mind felt all too cloudy to even think about what you said next.
"How about I show you?"
~.~
The front door swung open as your lips once again locked with SeungCheol's, his helmet and riding jacket becoming discarded somewhere on the floor as your hands grip his face, pulling him into you as he kicks the door to your house closed. You felt like you were in one of your nightly wet dreams, your mind feeling light headed as his hands roughly gripped your thighs before picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his tongue meets yours, the kiss becoming loud and wet as he gruffly asks against your lips "bedroom. Where, angel?"
You pointed in the direction of your bedroom, not even bothering to remove your lips from his as he chuckles, carrying you in the direction of the bedroom, kicking the door open before placing you against the wall. SeungCheol felt like he had to feel more of you, not even bothering to carry you to the bed, beginning to strip you against the wall as his lips moved down your neck. You gasp as his teeth meets your neck before his dreamy tongue moved to soothe the bite, his hands moving to toss away your top and sweats, leaving your pressed against him wearing nothing but your underwear.
"Damn, baby, you should've just told me you were just dreaming about me like this. I would've pleased you right there in your car" You moaned at his words, his kisses moving across your neck before he pulled back, pulling you up higher against the wall with a deep grunt before diving back in to press kisses against the tops of your breasts. "I wouldn't have made you wait till you fell asleep to feel so good, baby"
"Fuck, SeungCheol" you gasp as he carried you finally over to your bed, placing your back in the middle of the bed before his lips met yours again, his hands busy with removing your underwear. He took his time kissing down your body, moving to lay his stomach against the bed as his hands moved up your bare legs, spreading out your legs for him before he pressed a small kiss against your clit, making you hum. "Tell me, princess, did I make you feel good in your dream?" His voice sounded so deep as he hooked his arms underneath your legs, keeping you open for him as he blew onto your wet pussy. You squirmed at the feeling making him chuckle deeply before he began to press kisses and bites to the inside of your thighs, slowly moving up your thigh before switching to the other. He wanted to make you wait and enjoy every moment of this. He wanted to make all your dreams come true and make new ones too.
"Did I lick and bite your thighs just like this baby?" he asked against your legs, waiting for you to give him a nod before he whispers "good girl" against your thighs before he moved closer to your pussy once more, taking in a moment to admire how you look before he says "I'm about to make you feel so much better than in that dream, baby"
You have no chance at reacting as his tongue moves up your pussy slowly before he moans at your taste, his tongue soon moving in-between your lips as he takes his time tasting you, getting to know your wet pussy to make sure he made you feel so good. He moaned as he felt your hands moving into his hair, gripping his blonde locks as your hips try to move, trying to feel more of his tongue in you as you moaned loudly. He was right, this did feel so much better than in your dreams. You gasped as his tongue slowly pushed into you, curling the tip of his tongue as his thumb moved to play with your clit, your louder moan of his name echoing in the bedroom loudly as he fucked you with tongue.
"That's it, princess, feel good on my tongue. Use my fucking tongue and face" Your back arched a bit as his tongue moved faster before allowing you to ride his tongue until he felt your moans become slightly higher pitched, showing him that you were close. He chose to speed up, his thumb that was on his clit moving faster as you came. SeungCheol watched as your back arched, his tongue leaving you for a moment before his tongue moved to clean you up, not wanting to leave anything behind. Your hand grip his hair tighter as your eyes closed, your legs still shaking due to the force of the orgsam before your felt one of his hands moving slowly up your stomach, pressing down against your body. Your eyes opened as you felt his hand keeping your body firmly against the bed while his now messy hair and face resting against your shaking thighs, a small smirk on his wet lips.
"I need you to stay still for me, babygirl. I gotta prep you for me, okay?" He smirked, pressing another kiss to your clit, chuckling as he heard you whimper his name. "Angel, if you can't handle that, what makes you think that you can handle more than that, even my cock?" He smirked more, his free hand moving slowly along the outside of your thighs, enjoying how your legs seem to shake more at his touch. "So shaky, baby"
He chuckled before pushing his middle finger slowly into you, watching as your back arched at the feeling. He gently cooed you before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, giving you the opportunity to taste yourself on your lips. "I gotta stretch you out for me. If you can't handle my fingers, what makes you think you can handle my cock?"
"I can handle it, SeungCheol. I know I can" Your voice came out so desperate, so whinny, so hot
How could SeungCheol not think you could take it after you did all of that.
"Oh my fucking god, SeungCheol" You gasped, your hips raising slightly under his arm as he adds another finger into you, both of his fingers curling immediately in you as he begins to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth wrapping around your clit. "You're doing so good, angel, just take some more, ok?" He doesn't wait for you to respond, though, adding one more finger before he picks up his pace, his mouth busy with licking and sucking on your clit. He knew you could take it all. You had been dreaming about him all this time, so surely your body was willing to adjust to him, especially when he's hitting your spot so good.
As your hands gripped the sheets, his eyes moved up to watch your chest rise and fall at a fast pace, your next orgsam about to wash over you as he continues to hit your spot, giving your clit a harsher suck before he sits up, diving his fingers into you repeatedly as you cum. As you grip his broad shoulders, he watches you face as you slowly come down from your high, his fingers slowly leaving your wet pussy as some of your juices leak from inside you, pooling underneath you on the sheets.
You felt like you were on a cloud that was past cloud 9, your mind completely fuzzy as SeungCheol placed a kiss onto your cheek before standing up from the bed. Before you could whine at his body leaving yours, you notice him slowly removing his top, showing off his large peck and toned body before he removes his bottoms, tossing them away somewhere in the room before he removed his boxers, finally letting you see the object of all of your dreams.
"Is it just as good as you dreamed about, baby?" He asks with a charming smile, climbing on the bed in between your legs before he flips you over. You nod, feeling drunk as your cheek rests against a nearby pillow. You couldn't even form words at this point, feeling as if you could drift away, which SeungCheol chuckles at. His hand moves up your back slowly, feeling every curve of your back before he reaches your head, cupping your jaw from behind as you feel him press his hard cock against your ass. "No falling asleep baby. I still need to make your dreams come true." You nodded, SeungCheol chuckling at your distant look in your eyes.
"Did I already fuck you dumb, angel? Maybe I need to fuck you to you have no choice but to sleep, huh?" He presses as few kisses to your back before he grabs your hips, helping you move onto your knees before his hand move back to your back, pushing your upper body back against the bed as he says "Gotta fuck this pussy just right baby. Gotta show you that this is all not a dream, baby no" You can tell he's no longer even talking to you, slowly pushing into you. As he does, you moan loudly into the pillow, SeungCheol's next words coming out in a mixture of a moan and growl.
"Gotta fuck you better than dream me did. Dream me doesn't got shit on me, baby"
Your mind barely had time to put together SeungCheol's words as he began to move his hips, starting off slow so that you could feel every single inch of him before he sped up, his hand moving to press against your back. Your moans were muffled into the pillow as you tried to for words and thoughts, but with how he was fucking you, there was no way you could. Heck, you didn't even want to know what you would even say to him.
SeungCheol was more concerned with fucking you just right, his grunts and moans mixing with yours as he wrapped his hand around your hair, tugging your head to the side so more of your moans could be heard and not hidden in the pillow. At the sight of your dreamy look in your eyes and your mouth open as your pleasured moans slip from your mouth, he chuckles before cooing "That's it, baby. Am I fucking you dumb? You seem to like how I got you right now. Am I better in real life than in your dream?"
At your louder moans and how your cunt fluttered around his cock, he can't help but let out a strained chuckle before a louder moan, smashing his lips into yours as he begins to speed up. He could tell you were getting close, but he wanted to make you feel so good.
He pulled out for a moment, flipping you over to your stomach so he could see your face before pushing back into you before he kept moving faster, his hand moving to grip your jaw before he met your eyes with a dark eye before he says "that's it, Y/N, come on. Cum for me, cum all over this cock" As you came, your back arched as his lips moved to kiss your cheek and stomach before his own pleasure washes over him, stuffing his face into your neck as he cums. As SeungCheol presses himself against you, he kisses your neck before he whispers "that felt so good."
He soon pulls back to see your face, chuckling when he sees your dazed look and how satisfied you look. He smiles before kissing you again, rubbing your arms before he slowly pulled out, going to grab a rag before cleaning you up. You felt your body react to every movement or touch, your body super sensitive yet buzzing with the afterglow. You never felt so good.
SeungCheol soon returned to your side, laying down next to you as you immediately move to cuddle against him. After a few moments of silence, he soon clears his throat before saying "I, uh, don't know if you're asleep or not, but I'd love to take you out sometime."
"I'd love to" you hummed, pressing a kiss to his chest peck before falling back against his body, feeling sleep slowly move over you as you feel SeungCheol's lips press against your forehead before whispering "Goodnight, Y/N. Dream about me."
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vivwritescrappythings · 4 months
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simon riley brainrot
simon riley x reader
a shitty Simon Riley brainrot about sitting next to him on a plane from someone who has literally never played Call of Duty—just likes big dudes in masks.
tw: reader's hair is long and braidable, I think reader is gender neutral, reader is smaller than Simon, allusions to sex not proofread, i have zero context about Call of Duty besides clips of cutscenes and fics on here—nor do i plan on educating myself about it.
this is just dumb fluff bc i am on planes a lot!
masterlist
--
Simon had expected the flight from New York to London to be a painful seven hours. Of course, that was before he saw you. You were a pretty thing, tired eyes and hair messily braided with a roller bag and backpack in tow. He was all too aware of the empty seat next to him as he watched you scan the numbers on the overhead compartments. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde mop of hair, a subconscious attempt to look presentable.
Your eyes lit up with recognition as you deciphered the text just above his head. His heart nearly stopped beating when your gaze dropped to meet his, a polite smile on your face as you pointed to the empty seat. 
He was bumbling and awkward when he pulled himself to stand. You didn’t even seem to mind as Simon towered over you, broad shoulders consuming the small aisle. The movement with your carry-on was clumsy, your hands didn’t have a good grip on the hard-shell bag as you maneuvered it. 
Taking the opportunity to be acknowledged by you again, he grabbed one of the handles of the bag and steadied it into the overhead compartment. You breathed your thanks, fixing your pretty gaze up at him for a moment before ducking into the middle seat. 
If he didn’t have a black medical mask on, he was sure you would’ve seen his lips part and his cheeks color. He shook his head to pull himself back together as he sat down next to you. He was a fucking lieutenant, for gods sake. He’d killed people with his bare hands, but he found you to be down right intimidating. Your soft words and the knit cardigan you wore were from a delicate world he had never been privy to before. 
He took up an embarrassing amount of space, far too big of a man for economy seats and having no clue what to do with himself. His arm and shoulder pressed into your space, his knee jutting against your seat-back pocket. You crossed your legs at the ankle, courteously acquiescing your armrest to him with a sheepish smile. As though you were the one inconveniencing him.
“Sorry, I take up a lot of space,” he muttered to you, already cursing himself for saying something so idiotic.
Nevertheless, you smiled warmly. Your head tilted toward his, the fluorescent lights only making your exhaustion more apparent. “S’okay, it’s a tight squeeze,” you said, your voice so sweet and kind that Simon didn’t even know how to answer you. 
He just balked at you for a moment, mind wandering to what else could be a tight squeeze. He could only imagine what your soft lips would feel like around his—God, he needed to get a grip. He grunted an agreement before looking at the flight attendant as they started the safety protocols.
He’d managed to stop thinking about you at his side, getting sucked into whatever stupid movie was playing on the embedded TV screens. That is, until he felt a gentle press on his shoulder. 
Simon looked down and to the left through the darkness, seeing your sleeping face illuminated in the rapidly changing colors of the action scene in the movie. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, an e-reader still loosely pinched between your fingers on your lap. Messy strands of your hair were falling across your forehead and cheeks, slow and deep breaths making your chest rise and fall.
Simon stilled, the sinking feeling of being a bull in a china shop settling over him. His heart pounded in his chest despite his sudden anxiety being completely unfounded—he was a sniper, his entire career was built on holding position for lengthy amounts of time. 
But here you were, the little rabbit cuddling up to the wolf—and the wolf was terrified to misstep.
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merakiui · 5 months
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who in twst besides riddle do u think would actually be a 40 year old virgin. Whether its bc he was a loser growing up, or had no game. Whos the greying silverfox who smells like old cologne and is soooo mature but cant help but pitching a tent whenever he sees a sweet thing like you ask him for life advice? Old virgins ftw :D
AZUL. AZUL. AZUL. AZUL ASHENGROTTO!!!!!! Please ask him for life advice. Let him talk your ear off about the economy and financial tips and all of that "buy low, sell high" stuff. Please look at him with wide, excited eyes as you curiously listen and nod along. He's so accomplished and successful and smart, but he folds the minute you say those things to him. All it takes is a "Wow! You're so smart, Mr. Ashengrotto!" and he's having to do his best to remain normal when his dick is achingly hard. >_< you just have that effect...
OR FLOYD. OTL scummy, sleazy Floyd who talks dirty so naturally, but the truth is that he's still a virgin. <3 he'd make fun of Jade and Azul for getting so worked up over feet and legs, but then he sees you in your cute, frilly clothes and he's gone LOL. It's not even that risqué, but there's something so enticing about the modesty. He's obsessed.
It goes without saying that this screams Rollo Flamme. The most virgin man ever. Still so traditional and refuses to hook up with anyone random or look for no-strings-attached situationships and the like. But then here you are, cute and impressionable, and asking him for life advice... you're driving him mad.
Another obvious one, but Idia is absolutely like this. He's so proud when you feed his ego and call him a super genius because of course he is! But all of the blood is rushing to his dick the minute you're sidling up closer to him to look at his monitor and asking all sorts of questions about programming and whatnot in that sweet voice of yours. You're so close he can smell you!!!!!
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Text
Truth of fallen god
Self-Aware! Chuuya Nakahara x GN! Reader
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Description: Howard Philips Lovecraft is driving people mad. Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald is destroying economy. Chuuya Nakahara is talking with a dying god.
Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Mentions of cannibalism. Some swearing. Chuuya destroyed Chasm off screen. Chuuya cuddles in the end.
____________
"Teyvat are on a verge of crisis... Crisis of faith. Shouldn't you... Be more concerned? Bend rules for a bit?" Echo of Creator's powers stepped from one leg to another. The bleak copy of First One took few steps towards the edge of a platform, looking down at Teyvat. At The First One's Land. Echo turned their head towards Sustainer.
"I... I can pose as Legitimate Reincarnation. Remind people of Teyvat, who's laws they should follow. What they allowed to do and what lines not allowed to cross."
Echo were now standing before Sustainer. And from the darkness, dozens of Celestials observed. Sustainer's siblings and comrades. Most of them fight together with The First One, witnessing the birth of Teyvat. Echo looked Sustainer in the eyes.
"Pose as my familiars. Let me take The Ivory Throne."
The Silence of Celestial, home and cradle of The First One was shattered.
"Preposterous!"
"Never!"
"Impossible!"
"Sustainer, let us throw that worm from the edge!"
Sustainer raised her hand, silencing her siblings. She looked directly in Echo's eyes. They didn't flinch. They already act, like Legitimate Reincarnation.
There was something strange with that Echo. Sustainer could feel a sickly sweet scent, coming from Echo. Their movements were careful and calculated.
Were Echo sick? Were they trying to live, what remains of their lifespan the best, they can? Is that what mortals do?
The First One was the best among them in understanding mortals. But, Sustainer, while not the best, was still good at reading people.
Sustainer's voice flows. And Echo knew, that they have no right to interrupt her. If Echo dared to break The First One's protocol, they won't live for another moment.
"Why you came here only now, Echo? Why not came here earlier? Why you didn't stop Fontaine's Prophecy? Why you didn't release Dendro Archon? Why you didn't stop Electro Archon? Why didn't protect people of Liyue from Osial and Beisht? Why didn't calm Dvalin's pain?"
Sustainer's nose was almost pressed against Echo's.
"Why didn't you stop Cryo Archon?"
Echo's voice was firm.
"I only got here. And immediately came to you."
Sustainer raise her head, looking at Echo from above.
"Or, perhaps, you were too scared to do something dangerous. You did nothing to earn the right to be on the Ivory Throne."
Echo yelled.
"I am also a reincarnation of Creator! And I won't be the first Echo on the throne!"
Immediately, air was knocked down from them. Echo was laying on the marble floor of Celestia. Guardian, Sustainer's brother, was holding Echo down. Sustainer towered above Echo behind his back.
"They helped people during dark times, before asking for a throne! You just want praises, that came with The Ivory Throne. Leave Teyvat, mortal. Leave, and never return."
Echo's gaze darkened.
"So, that's what you choose..."
Guardian yelled.
And he fell.
A dagger with white handle was sticking from the middle of his chest.
Dirty, blasphemous power raised from Echo... From the Demon.
"It was a good thing, I didn't eat all the bones of Previous Ones I could find. Aren't the knife from their bones great for slaying gods?"
Demon raised from the ground. Black, sticky tendrils came from the tips of their fingers, curling around Celestia.
A bone dagger flew through crowd. Attacking, killing, destroying.
"I can fool them. Their prayers will come to me. But, I can't let your prayers came to The Second Reincarnation."
Demon showed their teeth.
"Can't wait for their arrival. I will finally get fresh meat."
Celestia shook.
The Cradle of The First One was sullen.
It crumbled.
And gods fell down, while demon stayed above.
___________
Chuuya Nakahara was quiet. The broken god sat before him.
He supposed to simply look around Sumeru, to explore some parts of the region, they weren't familiar with.
Instead, he found a dying god. Or, more likely, dying god has fond him.
She called him the new familiar of The First One. And told him a story. Story, that happened year ago.
Sustainer focused her eyes on Chuuya.
"I saw it. I can feel it. Last pure remains of The First One's power. They... True Reincarnation are safe, right? You are their new familiar, right?"
Sustainer coughed, a bloody drop appeared in the corner of her mouth. She swallowed the blood.
"Or a guardian?"
Chuuya finally found his voice.
"Their friend... [Y/N]'s friend."
Sustainer's dull eyes shined.
"[Y/N]... Their name? How perfect. It's perfect. Truly divine..."
Sustainer forgot about Chuuya and start repeating your name over and over again.
A child-like smile appeared on her face. Sustainer of Heavenly Principles was happy, because she likes the name of Real Reincarnation.
Chuuya interrupted her.
"What happened to you? After the Fall of Celestia?"
Sustainer coughed again.
"Demon got me. When I was falling. Was dying ever since."
She looked at Chuuya.
"Death of divine can take centuries. We will exist as long as memories and knowledge about us lives. And will slowly die as long as memories and knowledge about us lives."
Sustainer's body trembled.
"But I can go now. They are safe. New familiars are near them. Take it. Use all of it. Protect them. Protect them, because I can't."
Sustainer grabbed the golden ornament on her chest. Tendrils of her power flow into it.
Sustainer disappeared in a golden dust.
And a golden ornament with her power remains.
__________
Chuuya never used his ability to make something, so, it takes multiple attempts, before he can make a somewhat of an urn from a boulder.
Sustainer deserved to have a grave.
The golden ornament was safely tucked in his pocket.
And his rage was boiling in his soul.
Chuuya thought, that the Truth was next.
Crazy knock-off bitch wanted to kill you.
The real truth was much worse.
Crazy knock-off bitch wanted to eat you!
Earth crumbled beneath Chuuya's feet.
If only he could walk straight to that thing and made it a bloody splat on the Dragonspine...
But he needs to stay calm.
They can't drop too much attention to them.
Can't let people knew about the plan. About their unity.
Lovecraft can pass as another monster from ancient history, Jouno, after Mondstadt, was keeping low, Fitzgerald's attacks were only aimed at Ningguang and Pantalone, Mark's and John's bank robbery can be passed as treasure horders' doings, same with Blue Mackerel's and Ango's scum. And it's not like Anemiac Freak and Sigma force people to go to their casino.
But the assassination attempt on Creator will be impossible to pin on someone else.
In Teyvat's people's eyes, only an Imposter can wish to harm Creator.
His rage was still boiling.
But, for now, Chuuya Nakahara will hold his desire to kill that thing under control.
But he wanted to do something. Anything.
Piano Man's voice echoed in his mind.
"Start with the mines..."
Chuuya stopped. He and Flags hold a little discussion few days ago. About Archon's and their powers. Topic of Mora and fallen Celestia came up. Mora supposed to came from Celestial powers. But, with Celestia out...
"...metal for counterfeit money has to come from somewhere... No one would question, that new Mora looked different. It still be money, that came from Creator..."
Chuuya might take a little detour and visit The Chasm.
________
Chuuya ignored Fitzgerald's gaze, getting on the boat, sitting near the blonde man.
Lovecraft's tentacles hold the boat firmly on his back.
For an octopus-like creature, Lovecraft was extremely fast.
Lovecraft, swimming underwater, keeping a boat with Chuuya and Fitzgerald above, will reach the island with a porta in an hour.
Fitzgerald finally spoke.
"That earthquake..."
Chuuya didn't let him finish.
"Existence of a Chasm got on my nerves. I dealt with it."
_____________________
He left a stone urn with golden dust in their secret cave. When everything will be over, he will spread it over the remains of Celestia.
The knock on the door made you flinch. You liked your lips and answered.
_____________________
It was almost time to go to bed. You silently lay under the blanket. You were afraid of going to sleep. You didn't want to see another nightmare.
"Who is it?"
Door slightly open and a familiar redhead looked inside.
"Hey, Dear Symphony, want some company?"
You nodded slowly.
Chuuya walked into your room. And you finally saw his attire. A familiar red-toned pajamas.
He was holding his phone in one hand.
"Hey, [Y/N], do you want to cuddle tonight?"
You froze. You used to love cuddles.
But, after Teyvat...
The last "normal" cuddles you get were with Dazai and Fyodor. Few weeks ago.
You stopped cuddling, because of your nightmares. Because your screams already woke up others.
You didn't want to wake up a person, who will lie next to you.
BSD Cast respect your decision.
Despite your decision, you didn't want to be alone at night.
You didn't realize, that you were crying, until Chuuya brushed your tears from your cheeks. He smiled softly, looking at you.
"You need some 'me time', Dear Symphony. To recharge. Let me cuddle with you, while you're listening to music."
You didn't speak. You nodded, leaning to Chuuya's touch.
_________
Sounds of music filled the room.
Chuuya was laying behind you. With his arm around you, his chest was pressed against your back. Your bodies were pressed tightly against each other. Your head was laying on Chuuya's outstretched left arm. He was holding your hand in his left hand. His nose was right next to your ear. His breath tickled your hair. Chuuya felt the rise and fall of your chest grow steady with sleep.
Good. You seem calm.
Chuuya moved his head to plant a little kiss on your temple. You smiled in your sleep.
Chuuya blinked away happy tears. He put his head back, nuzzling your hair.
Tonight, only you and him exist. Tonight, only your comfort matters.
Tomorrow, he will say to others, what he has learned today. Tomorrow, fury and rage will boil.
And after that will come new plans, new actions.
And even more love and care for you.
____________
Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu
Chuuya in red-toned pajamas
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