#this could have been explored in a very touching way.... but instead.......

[monstersholygrail]

Imagine a big terrifying Alien who’s only heard about love and affection from watching human interactions and romance movies. And ever since then he’s been such a lovable and cuddly guy, but only for you, the one who showed him these great treasures.

Now you can’t go a second without his large hands on you. The way they curl around your limbs and pull you tight against him. His hands that always seem to wander, squishing your soft flesh in his palms, pinching and tweaking at your sensitive nipples, and sliding down to cup and rub the curious heat between your thighs.

And if you could ever manage to sit in your own seat again it would be a miracle. The alien immediately drags you down onto his lap whenever you go to sit down. If you dare to sit next to him or god forbid across from him, he’ll just pick you up and plop you right back into his lap, not caring that he’s knocking over everything on the table in his path.

It’s all innocent, he’s just exploring new sensations with someone he trusts. At least that’s what you tell yourself. Ignoring the knowing glint in his eyes and excusing the alerts you’ve been getting about someone accessing unauthorized websites on your computer.

It’s too hard to think right now anyway as you rock against his skilled fingers that curl inside of you, hitting that spongy spot that has your eyes rolling back. Your thighs and his a mess as they’re drenched in your release. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum tonight.

He just won’t stop touching you, long thick digits reaching the deepest parts of you. Gliding along your gummy walls and igniting your nerves with every flick of his wrist. Loud squelching echos in your bunker and you’ve long stopped trying to be quiet. Who cares if your crew knows what you’re doing? It’s just another lesson, that’s all.

“O-oh what a good— good mate. Doing so w-well f’me. Can’t get enough, can you? So desperate for my fingers,” the Alien murmurs in your ear, lust seeping into his tone.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying not to think about how he learned to talk like that. But instead letting his praise wash over you as he slips in another thick digit, scissoring his fingers and stretching you so deliciously. Ragged moans tear from your throat, body arching into his touch as you grow more and more tense.

Cute little pleased clicks from the Alien’s throat drown out your cries of pleasure as you shake in his arms. Your release gushing all over his fingers and adding to wet spot forming on your bed. He still doesn’t stop, working you through it till overstimulation has your toes curling and your body twitching.

You know he’ll keep touching and touching till you cum all over again and your hips roll back into his, wanting even more. You can feel his massive bulge digging into your ass and promising pleasure out of this world. And you’ve been to many of them.

With a gentle tug, you guide the Alien’s hand out of your core, watching it drip with your release. The Alien hisses at you, very put out that you’ve stopped his loving touches. But you gently shush him and turn around to straddle his giant lithe frame. Your hands already moving to the hem of his sweatpants.

“I think maybe we can move onto your next lesson now. There are many forms of human intimacy you’ve yet to discover, sweet one,” you say seductively.

Just as you slowly tug his sweatpants down enough to have his fat cock pop out from its confines and slap against his toned stomach. His length soaked with his own release just from your grinding but still rock hard.

Oh, he had so much to learn…

Part 2…?

[acepalindrome]

It’s Taash who mentions Manfred over dinner. A thoughtless act, clearly not meant to provoke or upset. They had found a pretty rock while exploring that day. Not a gem, not shiny, probably not valuable, but bright and colorful. It looked like something Manfred would have liked to collect.

They realize it the moment the name leaves their mouth. “Shit, sorry,” they say, eyes widening and glancing guiltily down the table to Emmrich.

He waves the apology off with a wan smile. It’s perfectly alright. He wouldn’t dream of forbidding his friends to speak of Manfred. He had been their friend too, and they have every right to remember him however they see fit.

Manfred should be remembered. He deserves that. He made a choice, a brave and selfless choice. Emmrich had made a choice too. They are both at peace. They have both found immortality, in their own ways. What more could they ask for?

He doesn’t speak these thoughts to the table, but it’s just that he had been feeling off that day. Heavy and sluggish. A side effect of adjusting to his new form, perhaps. It’s no cause for concern.

He turns his attention instead to the table setting in front of him. He can no longer eat, but his friends still set a place for him at every meal. They are so very kind.

There is an empty plate, an empty glass, and an empty mug, if anyone should wish for after dinner tea or coffee.

Thoughts of tea bubble up unbidden. Guiding curious hands to fill a kettle to boil. A delighted hiss at the rising steam. Skeletal fingers swishing through the vapor, perfectly fascinated by the mundane. A childlike wonder and joy in the smallest of things.

Emmrich would never watch Manfred play with the steam again.

Something is wrong. Emmrich’s glamor feels…strange, too warm. He looks up and realizes that the table is staring at him with varying degrees of concern and pity.

He touches his face, and realizes what has drawn their attention. His glamor is…leaking, somehow. Fluid is running out of his eyes, down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. It’s not supposed to do that. There is some component of liquid in the glamor to make it appear appropriately lifelike, but it doesn’t…it’s shouldn’t…

He jerks back from the table, perhaps the most alarmed of any in attendance. Stammers his apologies and excuses as he hastily scrubs the fluid off his face. No cause for concern, it’s just that something has malfunctioned with his glamor. He would need to step away to repair it. Please, continue your meal.

Rook reaches for him, their eyes sad, but he flees the dining room before they can do more to stop him. He drops the glamor the minute he’s out of sight, and retreats to the privacy of his room.

He spends the rest of the night trying to find out what went wrong. He checks every minute detail of the enchantment, but he can’t find anything amiss. But there much be something. Otherwise he would have to accept that perhaps the only flaw was that the glamor was a little too accurate in reflecting its wearer’s heart.

[gayofthefae]

Let's talk it through. Because it sounds silly, but Mike being straight ruins the entire story. Not because it hold so much weight, but because it is an ensemble cast, and ensemble casts' stories are intertwined. One tiny move from the originally and everything falls apart. People say it isn't planned but it's impossible for it to NOT be with the intertwinement REQUIRED of this structure.

So let's go through it. Every character can only have one ending and his being straightness is disprovable because it tears everyone else's apart (and I won't even touch themes):

Mike loves El. Fine for Mike and El in concept. But...

Not fine for Will. (If your argument is "they shoehorn that he's happy", yes, technically any writer could write literally any ending at any time in any story for anyone. That isn't an argument basis). So Will's story is ruined (yes, every protagonist needs a happy ending unless it's a tragedy, it can't just be your fave or who you think is the main and everyone else's is expendable). Will's is distressed

Which causes Jonathan distress. Jonathan's protectiveness over Will is then what has caused

Nancy's anxieties over their relationship. Nancy's anxieties over her relationship drive her to

Steve, who wants the nuclear family Nancy has repeated said she will quickly grow to resent, which will lead him to focus his energies away from his platonic relationships like

Robin, exploring her queerness in practice alone - a very scary thing she has shown to need support and a vent space in in 4x01 - but also away from

Dustin, which isolates him in his grief when he needs Steve the most. Dustin isolated, Will isolated, Mike and El preoccupied with each other leaves

Lucas isolated in his grief. Lucas isolated in his fight. This ties

Erica to him, unable to branch out and explore her nerdy identity and community as she is the only one there for him in the same way she was in the Creel house at her death and in the hospital before the team got back. Only the two of them together will fail much like season 4 in saving

Max, who died because of the group's physical separation in season 4, would now likely fail to be saved because of an emotional separation, and with everyone isolating themselves in depression, what would she have to come back to as a friend group?

Then we have their parents. Will struggling would directly affect Joyce in the same way it would Jonathan. She can't be happy if he isn't. And Hopper can't be happy when she isn't. And El can't be happy when he isn't. And Mike can't be happy when she isn't. Also, all of this has a history of just generally annoying Murray, as an addendum.

It's like when you play one of those connecting games with the lines, get one thing wrong, and have to erase the whole thing.

But I actually didn't even need to go through all this because, canonically, no one is happy they're together

especially in their most romantic season - season 3 - AND including THEM THEMSELVES. The only people off the list are characters who aren't present for their relationship to be hurt by it directly in the first place.

But let's go through how Mike being queer affects things, shall we?

Mike has feelings for Will. They get together and

Will is happy.

El and him break up, enforcing her independence from men though sad, sending her off more freely in her fight for Max. El being more independent relieves

Hopper of a weight, allowing him to focus more on

Joyce, who is also able to as well and instead of over worrying about her children now that she trusts that

Jonathan has been able to relax because he now trusts that his brother doesn't need him too much for him to be with

Nancy, who pursues her career alongside him as intended, keeping a platonic relationship with

Steve, who is then able to prioritize more platonic relationships in his life like

Robin, who has him to lean on as she ventures into romance for the first time and

Dustin, who can depend on him when he is grieving especially an "older male friend" like Steve is to him. With that support, he is less likely to isolate and more likely to seek solidarity with others grieving such as additional support to

Lucas, who now has both him and El supporting him, healing their grief together and making it so he has enough support that he isn't dependent on only

Erica, who is able to branch out more and cement her identity and friends who are more like her rather than just socially acceptable. Their team will also still be strong enough to get

Max back more successful than season 4 now that they are all working and strategizing together and in the same place.

When everybody else isn't stressed, Murray is less irritated with them. As an addendum.

So if Mike stays with El everyone including them is sad but if he's with Will everyone including them is happy.

This is why I shipped Byler. They're cute also. But this was why FIRST. Because it's formulated to be right.

I'm rooting for everybody's happiness. Most GA or other shippers are too, it's why we get converts as soon as they realize what "everybody's happiness" ACTUALLY means.

And I didn't have to do all this either. Because think(because there's a gif limit) how they were canonically when Mike and El are not together and he is with Will. Think season 2.

Lucas with Max. Dustin with Steve. Nancy with Jonathan. Joyce with Hopper. El finding herself. Everything as we know it should be. Or season 4.

That's no coincidence.

As I've said, it isn't about individual irrefutables. It's about patterns. Very, very consistent patterns. When everybody is happy and when they are not. "Season 3 changed and went downhill" and what single factor was altered as of season 3?

Mike Wheeler is not straight. Because everyone is doomed if he is. No less than everyone is doomed if Max dies or Robin doesn't get the Vickie or Vecna wins. Mike Wheeler is in love with Will Byers because everyone is doomed if he isn't.

If you move that piece of the puzzle, everything topples...which tells us that it is a piece of the puzzle.

[everestgale]

"Drag me down into the deep end, leave me out to die"

[Drawing is very much inspired by this song, as you can see by the pose, and the quote is from it, too!]

This is my fan princess The Butterfly and her counterpart Voice of the Arrogant. I was going to share more of them once I actually finished writing their Chapter... but it's gonna be a while before then. So have this as a sort of preview :]

Chapter II: The Butterfly

The Butterfly is a no-knife counterpart to The Nightmare, where instead of choosing to lock her in the basement because you don't trust her or the Narrator, you do that because, instead, you believe that she is pathetic and weak and cannot possibly end the world. You can't possibly drench your hands in her blood, that would be beneath you! And so you leave her to languish alone in the basement...

...but you still watch over the basement door; light threads of suspicion seeping through. You doze off. And when you wake up, she somehow escapes her chains and the basement. She stands over you, blade in hand, raised directly over your chest. The cabin won't let her leave. Maybe if she kills you... maybe she will be free.

She kills you. Everything goes dark, and you die. And when you meet her again, she turns into someone fragile, someone who can be ruined at the lightest touch... when you meet her again...

"Please just kill me," she says.

She had tried to escape so desperately, but nothing she did seemed to work. She can't handle the hurt of trying to escape anymore, so now she sits in the basement and patiently awaits her death.

[The current draft of Chapter I that leads into The Butterfly is under the cut]

Full disclosure: I am not a writer by any means, so some lines from Hero/Narrator will likely be either awkward or out of character. Also, about half of the lines are just directly copied and slightly edited from the pre-Nightmare Chapter I. You've been warned :]

Chapter I: The Hero and the Princess

You can't seriously think she is going to end the world, right? I am not killing her. She is not worth the effort. [Leave her in the basement.]

Voice of the Hero

At least we aren’t going to kill her… maybe we could keep an eye on her instead?

The Narrator

Are you seriously just going to wash your hands of this? No one wins here if you do.

"Wait, where are you going? You can't just leave me here! NO!"

The Narrator

You turn your back to the Princess and make your way back to the stairs.

The Narrator

She rushes out to follow you, but the chain on her wrist keeps her just out of her reach.

“You'll… regret it. I swear you’ll regret it! I'll make you pay. You can't just leave me here… please...”

The Narrator

Her voice peters out as she gives the chain another tug.

Voice of the Hero

This feels... awful. Are you sure we shouldn’t… help her?

The Narrator

Help her? Didn't you hear her threaten you just now? No, we can’t have either of your nonsense. You were sent here to slay her. You can still grab the blade and get back down here…

(Explore) See? She can't even get out of these chains. How is she supposed to end the world? She couldn't even hurt a butterfly.

No, we are not doing either. She isn’t worth it.

Oh that's a relief! I was afraid I'd already committed to not slaying her.

…Maybe we should help her. [Turn back towards her.]

The Narrator

Just because she's in chains now, doesn't mean she will be forever. Eventually, she will escape and end the world.

No, we are not doing either. She isn’t worth it.

Oh that's a relief! I was afraid I'd already committed to not slaying her.

…Maybe we should help her. [Turn back towards her.]

The Narrator

You'll be the death of all of us, but fine. We'll do it your way.

The Narrator

You close the cabin door, locking it behind you.

Voice of the Hero

Okay. We can make this work.

The Narrator

You settle in against the far wall to watch the basement door.

The Narrator

It isn't long before you start to drift off, your eyelids heavy with fatigue. But sleep doesn't come. Instead, your rest is broken by a piercing, wailing voice calling out to you from the other side of the door.

“I know you’re there. Please let me out. I beg you. PLEASE.”

Voice of the Hero

That’s her… But how did she get out of her chains? Did she slip out of them?

The Narrator

I warned you about this, didn’t I? But of course, you didn’t listen.

Voice of the Hero

I feel so bad... Maybe we can just ignore her. Maybe the banging and wailing will stop if you just don't pay attention to it.

The Narrator

You put the Princess' cries out of your mind as best as you can and huddle up against the wall.

(Fade to black, background change)

The Narrator

You jolt awake in the middle of the night. The ruckus has stopped, and the door to the basement is ajar, its lock broken and the pristine blade is missing from the table.

Voice of the Hero

Where is she?

“...I hope this works. Please let it work.”

Voice of the Hero

…What does that mean?

The Narrator

Sigh. I can’t believe you let this happen.

The Narrator

The Princess kneels next to you on the cabin floor, the blade gleaming in her trembling hands right above your chest. She stares at you as her eyes twitch, and small tear droplets fall on your face.

The Narrator

Before you can react, she plunges it into your chest, ripping through your muscles and organs. As the steel tears through your flesh, you feel agonizing pain. But you aren’t dead yet.

“Damn it. DAMN IT.”

The Narrator

She raises the blade again, before repeatedly sinking it into your chest. It is torture. Every stab feels like it’s burning through your body. As she lifts the blade once more, she lets out a piercing, desperate cry.

“I JUST WANT TO LEAVE. LET ME OUT. PLEASE.”

The Narrator

The Princess gives you one final stab in the heart, as your lungs fill with blood. Her voice, once loud and desperate, peters out until it's barely a whisper.

“...I hope I can leave now. Please let me leave now.”

Voice of the Hero

Somehow being stabbed repeatedly isn’t even the worst part of this…

The Narrator

Are you serious right now? You are bleeding out on the cabin floor right now, and you say this isn’t the worst of it?

The Narrator

This was hopeless, wasn’t it? You two are absolutely delusional. I hope you are happy with your choices.

The Narrator

Everything goes dark, and you die.

[tomlivingspace]

misogyny was still rampant in the first series but its interesting how much it was also a part of the plot. bluestar had to give up her kits in order to be deputy because a nursing mother wouldn't have been fit to be leader. yellowfang is blamed by starclan for being brokenstar's mother despite him never even knowing she was. it's just interesting how much the tragedy of how misogyny manifests within the clans in the first series is present and just kind of goes away. there's still misogyny but most of it isn't an intentional flaw of clan culture. the flaws of clan culture are focused more on forbidden romance romance crap

[bunnis-monsters]

Prettiest catch

Yandere!Merman x Fem!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 3rd

Oct 2

Oct 4

warning: dubcon, yandere behavior, breeding, kidnapping

summary: you explore a cave by the beach and find an isolated spot to swim, but little did you know a merman that has been watching you for a while is waiting for you beneath the surface.

Hanging out at the beach in early October wasn’t the most fun activity you could have done, but it was either walk along the beach and pick up shells during the fall when no one was around, or go home and watch TV.

Getting some air was good for you, that’s what your therapist had said. A little adventure was something to get you out of your rut and help you explore new possibilities.

So that’s why when you saw a cave by the water, you decided… why not! You were bored, wanted to explore and if something happened, at least you didn’t have to go into work tomorrow.

You were glad you wore your wetsuit when you felt a wave crash against you up to your thighs. The cave didn’t seem to be that big, so you figured you’d take a peak then leave and go eat something warm before going back home and washing your shell collection.

The ground was slippery, so you hugged the wall and moved slowly. You knew you were clumsy, and as you moved further and further into the cave, you were beginning to question yourself.

Why had you gone in there?

No one knew where you were and if you weren’t careful, you could hurt yourself and possibly die. Your body would never be found, and your family would be left wondering where their daughter was for the rest of their lives…

But your mind cleared of these doubts almost instantly when you reached the end of the cave.

It was lit up by glowing plants, perhaps mushrooms growing on the walls. A pool of water, clear and clean was at the end… though the dark side at the end of the pool did spook you a little, you couldn’t help but be captivated by the beauty of it.

Little fish and sea creatures swam and floated in the pool, some bioluminescence. “Aren’t these type of fish usually very deep in the sea? I’ve only seen them in videos…”

You marveled at the creatures, dipping your finger into the pool. Some of them approached, giving your hand a light touch before swimming away.

“Aww…”

They seemed friendly enough, and the water was pretty warm! It made sense, the cave was humid enough.

So this led you to make a mistake. You stepped into the water, sighing in relief as the chill of the October day fade into a pleasant warmth.

But you noticed something… off. While wading through the water, suddenly all of the little creatures began to scurry away and hide. Had you scared them? Now you felt bad…

It hadn’t been you that scared them, though.

You felt eyes on you, a predatory gaze of some hungry creature. You were being measured up…

“… hello?”

You glanced to the dark corner, seeing the water ripple slightly. Suddenly, you saw a pair of yellow eyes, the light reflecting off of them.

“F-fuck!”

You’d heard of salt water crocodiles, they were aggressive and territorial, you certainly didn’t want to be in the water with one!

But within seconds you were pulled under water. Whatever was after you was fast enough to get across the pool of water and pull you under before you could even think.

Just as fast as you were pulled under, you were pulled back up. Something pushed you into the rocky surface of the cave, and your ass felt cold as your wetsuit was torn.

Were you about to be eaten alive? You’d rather drown than feel teeth sink into your flesh and tear you apart!

But instead your legs were being spread, something toying with your hole in an amateurish way as if studying you.

Moments later, your thigh was being lifted up and pulled to the side, rotating you just enough so you could see what had you in its grasp.

The creature had scaly skin, but a humanoid appearance. His teeth were sharp and bared in what almost seemed like an aggressive display, his dark eyes staring down at you with a predatory look.

“Quiet…”

Something rubbed against your cunt, covering you in a sticky, almost gooey slick. “Mine…”

A strange purring sound rumbled in his chest as he rubbed his webbed hand along your belly. “Little mate… watching you for so long… mine…”

You cried out as you were speared with his fat cock, teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh on your neck. It felt sticky and cold, being fucked by this strange merman creature…

“My pretty little thing…”

He had been watching you for months, biding his time until he had you close enough to take, to breed you and keep his pretty little catch all to himself.

Now he was cumming inside, his scaly body rubbing against you as he continued to fuck you through his high. Your warm, gummy walls felt more amazing than he could have ever thought.

And he would never let you go.

After you were nice and exhausted from being bred, he nipped at your through, his long tail swaying in the water as he carried you to a far away island.

No one would find you there, and he could keep you trapped while you grew his young in your soft belly.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[box-dwelling]

For a person who bonded onto Miles Edgeworth like a baby duck, when I write I really do focus on Phoenix and his struggles way more than Edgeworths.

[lilacxquartz]

a touch apart;

mr. crawling x f!reader

plot: allowing mr. crawling to get closer, he tries his best to make you happy, trying all sorts of things — themes: oral (receiving), touching, smut, limited dialogue as i tried to keep it how it is in the game — w.c: 0.9k

masterlist • ao3

On the rare occasion that bedrest wouldn’t help you recover, Mr. Crawling would grow equally restless along with you, although more so just confused. In his mind, it would be his fault for not being safe enough for you. He watched over you as you rested, and kept his height to a minimum to ensure your comfort, and yet, you could never relax fully in this place.

In recent times however, you had been allowing him to get closer than usual—more than ever before, in fact. No longer did you react to his spontaneous hugs and head pats by pushing him away, and instead allowed for him to close whatever brief distance you both had. No longer did you also feel surprised to see him there all of the time, doting on you and waiting for you—instead rather, expecting him to be there.

So, when you again, didn’t quite turn him away, he crept closer towards you with a different sort of intention in mind.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he knew that he wanted to be closer to you, any other sort of reaction was almost unacceptable in his mind.

He reeled you in close, feeling your frame mould to his own like the missing part of a puzzle that he never knew he was missing, finding solace in completing each other.

You sat on the bed, watching as he crawled towards you, stopping right where you sat. His hands wrapped around your legs in a needy hug, resting his head against your thighs. In return, you tried to offer a head pat back, offering soft and soothing languid gestures over his silky black hair.

Mr Crawling’s touches weren’t immediately invasive right away, although his touch dabbled on something slightly beyond just explorative, reaching further beyond than he perhaps meant to go. His ghostly palms slid over your thighs, brushing milky-smooth languid touches along your supple skin. However, immediately retracting his caressing from the moment you tensed up, fearing that he had done something wrong.

In a curious tone, he tried to assess the situation, “Pain here?”

You shook your head, hoping to shake off the creeping blush that settled over your complexion too. You weren’t entirely opposed to him exploring your body in that way, but you also wanted him to understand what he was doing.

Mr. Crawling then paused for a moment before returning his hands to the area once more, intently studying your reaction as he went along. As if mentally logging that your state was flustered, he seemed to register a certain thought in mind, his expression changing from cautious to curious.

“Happy?” he asked instead, his voice very soft.

Stifling your need, you nodded while chewing on your bottom lip.

Understanding the memo, Mr. Crawling carefully slipped his fingers just below your concealed sex, poking a finger inside to study your potential reactions. He seemed to successfully register that touching certain parts of your body meant for unique reactions, which made him feel excited in return, so this was a reaction that he definitely wanted to explore.

Moving forward with a tentative touch, he eventually let you wiggle out of your underwear, dropping the pair to gather right at your ankles. He then moved his fingers a little closer on one hand, using his other palm to spread your legs further apart with an idea in mind.

Slowly, he moved his head forward, propping his tongue out and licking where his fingers parted away at the folded area of your heat, seeking out the area where you were the most responsive. Your clit tingled as he successfully connected to it, biting back a barely contained whimper. Mr. Crawling took note of your flushed state, understanding that this must have been your body’s happy zone, before lapping at it in all sorts of various ways, only repeating the motions that seemed to gather the strongest response.

Such feelings were greatly reciprocated by you as you involuntarily anchored your hand over his raven locks, clawing—grappling tight against his hair—reeling in whatever you could in a fit of feverish need. Mr. Crawling all the while continued to flick his tongue against your sensitive bud, letting your pleasure rise to an almost burning peak—yet only teasingly so. Mr. Crawling, unbeknownst to his fleeting spurs of your own received pleasure, kept pulling back to catch glimpses of your flustered state.

Slowly but surely, you grew closer to your anticipated end, which he seemed to catch onto. Changing things up slightly to keep up with you, Mr. Crawling sped up the motions towards an almost hectic fervour, wanting nothing more than to give you as much of his ‘help’ as he possibly could physically accomplish.

Your thighs soon tightened and clamped shut from such searing anticipation; your fingernails clawing against his scalp as the rolling bliss finally mounted, until at last, the coiling warmth from within the confines of your stomach had at last constricted beyond the point of no return, uncoiling radiating sweeps of pooling pleasure flooded your core, so desperately pent-up, coming undone at long, long last.

Noticing such a reaction, Mr. Crawling appeared to be both happy and confused at your ruffled state, bringing you closer towards him right away, sitting you on the ground with his arms wrapped right around you in a tight hug. He seemed to understand that you greatly enjoyed such a thing but remained confused as to why you looked so distressed—so agitated, almost.

“Happy?” he asked again, his chin resting atop your head.

You breathlessly nodded, leaning into his chest, taking note of his obvious arousal now evidently pressing against you.

A thought entered your mind as you slowly caught your breath again.

Maybe you should return the favour?

[thinkinonsense]

JUNO⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

logan howlett x young fem!reader.

cw: slightly nsfw, reader is 25.

a/n: this is very rushed but short n sweet is on repeat and juno has been on my mind nonstop. can't wait to see her on tour next month! <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Logan wasn't stupid, he saw the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. You were yearning for him in every way possible, but Logan knew better than to corrupt a sweet girl like you. Yet, he didn't want any of those little boys on campus to have you either. They could never treat you right.

It was torture of Logan; but he had to keeping a gap between you. Never giving you the chance to pounce on him.

That was until spring break came.

Everyone in the mansion had returned home for the two-week break. Only a handful of people stayed, including Logan and yourself. He watched out his window at you in your tiny skirts out in the garden. Logan could deny the aching desire deep within himself but you knew that he was craving your touch.

You weren't one to shy away from your feelings; instead, you made them known.

"Gotta sec, Logan?" You asked, cornering him in the kitchen one morning.

When he turned around Logan feared a groan might slip past his lips. The last thing he expected was to see you in a cute baby blue slip nightgown. He was convinced you were sent as karma for all his past damages.

"No." He grunted, moving past you quickly and into the hallway.

"C'mon, Lo.." You whimper behind him, following him like a lost puppy. "I know you're avoiding me."

"Aren't you observant?" His voice leaked with sarcasm.

Logan reached his room, about to slam the door in your face and deal with some personal issues. Your hand slams against the large wooden door, keeping it open enough to slip past.

"You aren't welcome in here, sweetheart."

Logan pulled a cigar from his pocket and sat in one of the chairs in his room. That didn't stop you from standing in front of him, demanding answers. A shiver rushed through you when the smoke tickled your tummy.

"Why are you being so cruel to me?" You ask as sweetly as you can sound.

Logan took one look up at you and he immediately regretted it when he saw your little pouty face and wide eyes. He refused to answer you, instead staring at the floor and waiting for you to leave.

"I want you." You whined. He felt like you just stabbed him in the chest. "I know you want me too, Lo."

"Don't do this to me, sweets-" His words fall short when you sit on his lap.

"I'll be good for you."

Now you were being the cruel one; moving against him with lustful eyes.

"Just want you to adore me..." You purr against him, taking hold of his two giant palms against his sides. "Want you to hold me, to explore me..."

Logan was at your mercy. Your soft moans are making it hard for him to resist you anymore. His hands finally moving under the night gown to squeeze your flesh. You leave a trail of kisses up his neck; pausing by his ear.

"Mark your territory."

Logan groaned loudly, pushing your hips to his with force.

"Let me be your only, Logan."

Logan smashed his lips into yours, swallowing your pretty moans. He didn't care if it made him any worse of a person. He just needed you; and boy, were you gonna get more than just some butterflies from Logan.

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), dom!xavier (and a very sub!reader), slight power dynamics, nothing too extreme but xavier is a little mean here, slight themes of possession and jealousy (ft. jeremiah mention like... once), sensory play (blindfold), light bondage, biting, marking, teasing, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy petting, nipple play, clit play, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))

wc : 4.1k (...yeah... of pure filth actually...)

an : as usual, very self-indulgent on the part of yours truly !! inspired by "red lights" (and yes, as always, listening to the song adds to the vibes) and our very beloved "no restraint" trailer, but it doesn't actually reference the pv so this is entirely separate <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @star-anons-blog @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Focus on me, angel."

Quiet words against your skin.

Your chest heaved, breathing heavy, wrists bound tightly together against the bedpost—his fingers grazed over your cheek in that moment, and the touch was familiar. It was soothing, almost. Like a soft caress that the two of you would often share together, it had your head tilting towards him, leaning into his touch as much as you could help it.

He had you right where he wanted you.

You had no choice but to focus on him.

Just... not in the way that you would have expected to.

Your wrists tugged slightly at the ribbons that restricted you, a small whimper falling from your lips.

You couldn't see.

Every touch against your skin had you jolting, every trail of his fingers on your jawline, down your neck, over your shoulders... All of it felt so heightened. Your vision was shrouded in darkness. The silk that covered your eyes was bound tightly, not a semblance of light could have creeped in from the room that had already been dim from the start. He had you lost in a swirl of the unknown.

And it had been this way for hours on end.

His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet schlick, your body writhing as you let out yet another cry.

But he wasn't listening to you.

Instead, he sighed.

"I said," he murmured—and you flinched at the sudden feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear—"focus on me."

His voice dropped an octave lower as he completed his statement, and it was unfair.

"I-I am!" you protested. "It's too much, Xavier, I-I can't... I can't keep holding it, please I just—!"

"Shhh."

The mattress shifted beneath you. His warm hands slid across your bare skin, his body warm next to yours—slow, intentional, precise movements, thumbs digging into your flesh in what could have been considered a sort of massage. It was enough to ease you out of the orgasm you'd almost had, the coil in your stomach loosening as you felt every beat and every flutter of your pussy so wantonly.

And then you felt his head dip down.

In an instant, his lips attached to your neck—

"I know, angel, I know. I have you. Just focus on how it feels."

But you were feeling too much.

Too much, all at once, for all this time, and yet—

It was so hard to resist him.

He knew that.

And it was nearly by instinct how your head tilted, allowing him more access, allowing yourself to feel the way his lips would curl into a little, self-satisfied smile. You didn't need to see him to know it was there; you didn't need to see him to know how it looked like. You knew him well enough.

And you were melting at it.

Gradually he began to explore the rest of your body with featherlight touches, as if to soothe the way he'd been edging you endlessly over the past several minutes. He ghosted over your skin with the tips of his fingers, enough to have goosebumps prickling in their wake; his hands moved up to cup your breasts, inching closer to where he knew you needed him most, but still—only barely touching.

And then you barely had a chance to react, before his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck. The sudden action, a sensation intensified by having your sight so cruelly taken away from you, had you arching your back with a moan.

In the next second his thumbs rubbed over your nipples as he suckled at your skin to leave an array of bruises, a deep chuckle reverberating against you. Slow, rhythmic circles, lithe fingers taking your nub and finding pride in the way they would stiffen and peak under his touch...

You knew that he was watching you.

You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

And you knew why he was being like this. Relentless teasing, always enough to bring you to the precipice but never allowing you to topple over it... Now, he was taking it slow again, but you were sensitive enough to be reacting to everything.

"Xavier...." you whimpered. Slowly, his hand trailed down over your stomach to rest over your thigh.

"Yes?" he murmured.

A shiver went down your spine at the raspiness in his voice.

"You want me here again?"

He spread your legs without waiting for you to answer, a finger trailing upwards and nearly excruciatingly close—only to trace gentle, feathery shapes into your inner thigh.

You groaned.

"Xavier.... Please! Please just touch me—"

"But I am touching you."

You knew that he was smiling.

"Not like that! Do it... Don't do it so gently! Don't tease me! Stop playing with me!"

He hummed, and his hand inched even closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of the mere proximity, your walls clenching around virtually nothing, your breath hitching with anticipation.

But it never came.

"...I don't know."

You were nearly appalled at how genuinely nonchalant he sounded.

"You know what you've been doing to me all day. Teasing me like that... then giving all that attention to Jeremiah when you should have been looking at me."

"I-I didn't mean to! You know he's only just a friend, you know that I—nngh—!"

He leaned in to pull at your earlobe, taking it between his teeth before letting out a soft laugh at the way your body seemed to squirm in response.

"But... That doesn't change anything. Next time don't talk to him like that when you're wearing such a short skirt." A soft blow against your ear, and he made it clear that he was enjoying the goosebumps that littered over your skin as a result. "Besides... I thought you were too sensitive, since you've been reacting to everything so much. Now, you want... more? You're so greedy..."

You could nearly cry.

You felt his other hand squeeze at your breast to make a point, and you felt him shift ever so slightly—

"You're all sloppy, angel. You've made such a mess. I can see it, how wet you are..."

A pause.

"...Mm. You want me to touch you there, right? Feel my fingers inside you again? You must be really warm, still..."

Again your wrists tugged at your restraints, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the blindfold. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you couldn't dream to listen over it for his movements—his words felt so simultaneously innocent as they were dirty, and the calm in his voice did nothing to soften its effects.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Xavier, please!" you begged. And whether intentional or not, you found yourself lifting your hips, pushing against him. It was enough for you to feel the slightest graze of his fingers against your cunt, nearly driving you insane with the way he curled his hand into a fist and have you coat his knuckles in your juices.

Then he let out a hum, and you knew what that meant.

He was watching you.

And he was fascinated.

"Do you like that?" he questioned aloud, and it almost pained you how full of wonder his voice seemed to be. "You really are so sensitive."

Your next moans were swallowed into a kiss as his hand remained placed between your legs, stationary at the perfect distance for you to grind against him. The other continued to knead at your breasts, occasionally pausing to roam over your skin, and he murmured—

"Pretty. You're so pretty when you're needy like this."

You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn that the smirk that was likely on his face was anything but innocent.

Yet, his hands drew away from you, and he laughed.

"Xavier!" you cried out. Your hips lifted, as if to chase that same sensation, your clit throbbing with a need that could have had you thrashing around had you not been tied into place.

"Shhhhh, shhh. Relax... Just relax."

A kiss over your blindfold, this time, had you placated enough to swallow your pleas into what felt to be a choked stob. His lips traced over your eyelids, to the tip of your nose, to your lips once more. And then his kisses began to trail further south. Down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, over the skin of your stomach and past your navel—

Only to stop.

And then he began, again, to kiss upwards.

By the time he'd reached your lips once more, your breath was shaky and erratic, the corners of his mouth turned up in another smile you knew to be one of satisfaction.

Now, the scent of his shampoo, the scent of his skin was heedy in the air, mixing in with your own arousal. The room smelled of lust and desire, and these were the only other grounding sensory details you could latch onto as your head continued to spin. Because he truly, truly had you under his complete control. He could have you bending and writhing under his touch without a second thought, the reins of your pleasure embedded into his every being.

"Xavier.... Xavier, please," you cried. You'd lost count of the number of times his name had fallen from your lips out of sheer desperation. "Please, I'm so empty! I need... I need you, I need something—"

A sharp gasp fell from your lips, effectively cutting you off.

"Something, like... This?"

A single breathless whisper against your ear, before you felt him prod at your entrance and slid slowly, slowly back inside you.

"So, so warm."

His voice was a soothing lull, almost an irony to the way that he was treating you.

All the while, wet noises followed every movement of his fingers as he fucked you slowly—gathering your creamy slick when he pulled out, only to plunge right in with a little hum of wonder that had you keening. Easily, he had your hips bucking into his palm. Your back arched; it was an instinctive reaction to follow the movements of his hand as if you were merely a puppet of his desires—every pump of his finger had you moaning unabashedly, only a slave to the lust that he'd awakened in you.

And with the silk around your eyes still fastened in its place, the darkness surrounding your vision made even the tiniest things feel all the more pleasurable.

You could feel how long and slender his fingers were, reaching so deep inside of you, curling against your sweet spot. You could feel the stretch of your pussy with the scissor of his fingers, a stretch so delicious that the burn of it went straight to your head to have your eyes rolling back.

And it felt so good.

...But as always, he would be so. Excruciatingly. Deliberate.

His ministrations brought you a pleasure so indescribable, yet it wasn't quite enough.

You knew what he was doing. He would bring you back into a patten you'd become familiar with: you would be speared on his fingers relentlessly, at a pace so frustratingly lacking, creaming over his fingers without quite bringing you over the edge.

"Xavier!"

Yet another choked sob to fall from your lips. More tears pricked at your eyes, too, though he would have likely been unaware given the fabric concealing that was concealing them. "Please... Please, faster! Please... I need to cum!"

It was like a trigger.

Immediately at your words, his thumb brushed lightly over your clit before he pulled away, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, angel... I don't want to let you."

The sudden momentary stimulation against your clit had your vision going hazy. You thrashed around desperately as another cry tore fron your lungs, your legs squeezing together tightly— the throbbing in your cunt was becoming absolutely unbearable.

You were so close.

You were so close.

It was slipping away.

"No!" you cried. "Nngh, no, no, please! Please, Xavier! I've been so good for you! Please, please, you have to—I have to—"

This time his other hand moved to tangle into your hair, and he placed another chaste kiss over your lips.

"But... Have you been good? When you've teased me all day? You know... Just now, you've also been begging nonstop, even if I keep telling you not to. I don't know if I should be calling you good."

A pause, and a whimper on your end.

"...But you're pretty. I can give you that."

Another kiss, and another, and another, as your orgasm slowly faded away and you were rendered a panting mess beneath him.

But he wasn't done.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when he opened you up again, fingers delicately tracing your folds, the stimulation enough to make you jump. This time, you didn't have to say anything before his fingers were back inside you, fucking your cunt, squelching noises resounding in the room with how he would plug your hole full with every thrust.

It was humiliating, almost.

All you could do was focus—on the sensation, on the sound, on the way he would whisper soft, loving words into your ears as if he weren't completely ruining you for him in this moment.

"So wet n'messy..."

Your walls fluttered around him, clenching on his fingers—

He clicked his tongue.

"Ah-ah, angel... Again? So soon?"

You heard him sigh as his fingers slipped away from you once more, and your entire body jerked with desperation.

"Xavier!!!" Your chest felt suffocating, sobs of his name falling from your lips. "Xavier! Xavier, why! Why do you keep—Why won't you let me finish!! Xavier, please!!!"

Your wrists felt numb with pain as you struggled against your restraints, and you knew that your face was wet with tears. The blindfold was drenched; you could only keep your eyes squeezed shut, sniffling helplessly.

It was gone again.

You ached; your breathing wild and heavy. You didn't know what to do. He had you utterly ruined.

"You know why, angel. Should I do it again until you understand?" he whispered. His lips fluttered against yours, teasing a kiss.

He wouldn't even give that to you anymore.

"No!" you sobbed. "No more... Xavier, no more! Please... Please, please just make me cum! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—I won't do it again—"

His fingers glided over your lips this time, and it was almost pathetic how easily your mouth opened in response. The tangy taste of your slick was unmistakable. He slid his fingers into your mouth for you to taste more.

This way, you couldn't speak properly.

There would be no other way to convey your desire, if not to thrash around and have him watch.

Another hum. "I think... Not."

And he would keep doing it.

Your cunt was red and swollen to the point of overstimulation. Your vision blurred; your head felt fuzzy. You were tired.

Every touch, even the slightest brush against your skin—against your clit—had you gasping. You were too hyperaware of everything he was doing. Worse, again, was the fact that you couldn't know of what else he would do to you—couldn't anticipate it.

Another tap against your nub, a pressure enough to flick it slightly, before snaking your hand up your waist to soothe you with another gentle caress.

You were sobbing.

"Mean!" you weeped, "You're so mean, Xavier! So cruel! I can't—I can't anymore! You have to make me cum... You have to!"

It hurt.

It stung.

And you felt him sigh, so used to your pleas at this moment that you wondered if he had gotten so desensitized to them by now.

"So I'm harsh, and cruel?" There was a teasing lilt to the calm of his voice this time, and you choked out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press tip against you.

He shifted, and the blindfold was slipped off of your face. Wet with your tears, he discarded the cloth carelessly around his room, and finally, finally, you were able to see him.

The room was dim, but the blue in his eyes remained striking—always an ocean you could drown in, willingly.

Only tonight, that wasn't what he wanted from you.

His hand found its way to your chin, and he tilted it downwards. Just a little, you felt—saw—the tip of his cock press into you.

"Do you want this?" he murmured. He kept your gaze in place, pressing in a little deeper still. But you were aware at how his gaze never strayed away from you. Observing. Attentive. "You feel empty, right, angel? You want me inside you? Maybe I've been too mean to you... I'm sorry... Next time, you shouldn't tease me too much..."

You let out a slow breath.

"Please."

Your voice was shaky.

And he leaned in, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again before his lips met your cheek. In a flutter of movements he kissed your tears away, hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Watch," he said.

His voice was soft, but it was something like a command.

"Watch. And no take-backs."

You didn't have time to react, then.

Once more your gaze was directed towards your pussy, throbbing with a need for attention—and your eyes went wide.

He thrust inside you without a second of warning. The entrance was sudden—unexpected. Filling. Any words you'd been thinking to speak fell immediately to a shocked silence, your mouth falling open in a noiseless moan. And all at once, you were made entirely aware of the stretch of your walls, the length of his cock a slow, frustrating slide until the numbnessmelted away enough for you to feel full.

His weight shifted.

You felt caged between his arms, his breath hitting directly above you, legs slotted between yours. There was space for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you did—

And he started off slow.

Low grunts as his hips rolled against yours, a thrust so fluid and deep that your figure pressed deeper into the mattress. You groaned in response when he repeated the motions; pulling out only to thrust all the way back in, the slap of his skin against yours a testament.

"Not empty..." he rasped. "Not empty 'nymore. I'm filling you up... So warm and pretty for me, all for me..."

His words made your head spin, but despite the desperation laced into his tone, he refused to pick up the pace. You whined, your hips raising to meet his thrusts as if trying to coax a faster pace, but he didn't listen. Instead, he clicked his tongue—with a mewl on your end, he pinned your hips to the bed, preventing you from moving.

"Xavier!" you protested immediately, feeble attempts to wrestle free from him.

"No."

A harsher tone, as he grinded against you to elicit another choked sob.

"But whyyy! I thought you—you said you—"

You threw your head back at a particularly deep thrust, and again his hand was back on your chin.

"I'll set the pace. Don't move, angel. Or I'll pull out."

Xavier usually wasn't like this.

You couldn't quite tell if he was enjoying your torture, or if he was simply this upset over everything that had happened, but the ache you had all over your body right down to the throbbing of your cunt was too, too much for you to bear.

The way his hair fell over his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrow arched almost menacingly—it brought tears to your eyes once more, and all you wanted to hear from him was another word of reassurance.

For a moment, his eyes softened.

"Don't cry... Don't cry anymore..." He leaned in to nuzzle against your nose, before pressing his lips to yours in a light, gentle kiss. "What do you want, angel? You want me to go harder?"

Feebly, you nodded. At a sharp thrust of his hips, you drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that?"

Another nod.

And this time, he smiled—and it was genuine.

"Okay. Then stay still and let me. You can do that for me, right, angel?"

His hips began to move again, and you were relieved to feel the slight reprieve he was granting you by slowly picking up the pace. Yet again your gaze found the outline of your cunt, zeroing in almost immediately on the way his cock sunk into you and disappeared eagerly into your dripping folds.

He was right.

You were an absolute mess, if the sloppy sounds of sex weren't enough to prove it. The sheets were stained so clearly with your arousal, and the truth was that you didn't quite need him to be rougher with you. Just the mere sensation of being filled up, the friction of his shaft against your gummy walls, was enough to have you arching your back to meet his thrusts.

"Close!" you cried out, desperately rutting against him. "M'close, Xavi, please, please— Let me...!" You saw the smirk on his face, the way his eyes narrowed. Part of you had to wonder if he would pull away again—

But he didn't.

Instead, his hips moved faster, drilling into you in a pace so relentless that your eyes grew wide with shock.

In fact, he didn't stop at all.

He'd haphazardly reached out to yank you free from your bounds, but when you finally reached your peak, it was a crash that had you reeling. A scream of his name and curling of your toes were barely enough to describe it—your vision had gone white, your body fixed into a tremble that almost seemed not to stop. It didn't matter that you had just spilled onto his length, clenching around him with every loud cry that tore from your chest. You were raw, and sore, and used—but that was no longer any of his concern.

He kept his thrusts up.

He would drive you into the mattress, every movement made to slam his hips into yours harder, faster, skin slapping against skin so loudly that the sound of it near-challenged the unintelligible moans that spilled from your lips.

It was torture.

Yet it was so good.

"Ye- es!" you cried out. "Yes, ye—aaanh— y-yes—! Like that! Like tha—hnn—! Xavi— Xavier—!"

You couldn't help but have your eyes roll back into your head, allowing him to grip your waist and steady himself, giving himself the leverage to fuck into you deeper, to stretch you out so deliciously good. He kept your thighs spread apart, nails digging into your skin—and you were so sensitive. Over, and over... he would ram his cock into you and have you filled to the brim with him, never once giving you a second of rest.

And it was everything to watch him lose control just as easily because of that.

"Yeah... Yeah? Like this, angel? Mmh... Taking me so... s-so—hnng— so well, angel, l-look at you..."

Gasps and groans fell uncontrolled from his lips, a mixture between deep rumbles and a more high-pitched whine when you clenched around him just right.

"More... more," he shuddered. "Can't... can't stop, angel, you're so good, I need—need you—No one, haah, no one gets to fuck you like this, all pretty for me to use—"

Clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, skin sheen with sweat. His eyes held a haze of desire you could only ever see from him when he got like this, and it was all barely enough to keep your sanity from tipping over.

You were withering.

His hand moved down to rub against your clit, and the intensity of all of it had your vision going completely blank.

You could barely register anything anymore.

He would pull orgasm after orgasm out from you and you would lose count of it, only vaguely registering the hot stream of white that dripped out of you with how full you were.

"Xavier..."

Your voice was weak and raspy, your hands wrapping around him to pull him into you, against you—anything.

And he groaned against your neck.

"Angel.... one more, please, just— One more. You can give me 'nother. I know you can. Just, nngh—let me fill you up one more time... Gotta mark you all mi— mine— mine—"

He clamored to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Immediately you clawed at his back, a strangled cry of his name leaving your mouth... and he caved.

Yet you knew that this was far from over.

"Mmmhfffuck—! S-so tight, so—ah—!"

The last thing you registered was the desperate shut of his eyes, the near-frozen parting of his lips, and the string of curses formulated into his own moan of raw, unfiltered pleasure.

He was just as long gone as you were.

"Oh, angel... M'not— Not done with you yet at all..."

⁺₊ / an: guys i literally cannot stop thinking about him

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[star-crossed-sluts]

Matt Murdock X Chubby!Fem!Reader

Contents: 2.2k words, love confession/discussion, cheeky reader, giggly sex, chubby female reader, slight insecure reader but that's quickly solved, mentions of bullying regarding weight though very brief

Minors DNI

You are responsible for your own media consumption

You've dealt with strange looks all your life. It wasn't surprising their whispers had infiltrated your mind. Often you managed to catch yourself, stopping the thoughts that weren't quite yours. When you first met Matt, the most frequent one was, of course, you could only get a blind man to like you. It was cruel, and you tried to chase it away every time, but there was a small part of you that thought, if only I can keep him from touching me, we can go on like this. 

Because you were a fool. 

He always grabs your hips first, almost a warning of the devil to come. 

“What’re you doing up,” he rumbled against your neck, voice thick with sleep. You're half-sure he’s subconsciously tracking how long you've been away from his arms every night, waking himself when the timer passes your usual bathroom breaks’ duration. 

His hands push even further, rubbing your sides until he's gripped two handfuls of your soft stomach. Bare chest plastered against your back, his grip manhandling your hips back to meet his. You used to shy away from his touch, wanting to keep the you from reality separate from the you he's crafted in his mind's eye. 

Little hard to feel ashamed of your body when he was rocking his hard-on against your ass.

“You're insatiable, Matthew.” 

His groan was pained, like you were terribly twisting his arm instead of letting him fondle you in the kitchenette. “Don't call me Matthew,” he griped, one hand searching for the bottom of your nightshirt. “Reminds me of my priest.” 

You leaned into him, a fond smile playing on your lips as he found the edge of your panties, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Because you’re such an altar boy,” you joked as his fingers trailed the hem, outlining the curve where your leg met your mound. You know the moment he thinks of a retort, because his lips twitch against your pulse.

“Well, I do seem to spend a lot of time on my knees-” He burst into laughter as your elbow came back at him, letting you attack his ribs to distract you from the way his hand explored your upper thigh. “Abuse,” he accused, “attacking a blind man!”

“It’s alright, I know a great lawyer.”

Matt chuckled against the thrumming vein in your neck, his grip on your stomach pulling you tighter against him. “Yeah? You know, my rates are pretty steep, but I think we can come up with some alternative payment.”

“I was talking about Foggy.”

His laugh flew out of him, taken completely off guard, and sent you into manic giggles right along with him, throwing yourself back against his chest to hold you upright. “You're terrible,” he cackled, tugging you to shuffle backwards to the bedroom with him. “Come back to bed, trouble.” 

“Oh, don't you start with me,” you faux-threatened, but still gave in and helped him navigate the living room. “You're so much more trouble than I am.” 

He pretended to mull it over, hmm-ing and mmm-ing between soft kisses on your neck. “Alright,” he decided, “I'll let you have that one. Y'know, since you obviously need a win right now.” 

You hit the mattress, helping each other climb into bed like you hadn't been in months, as opposed to the twenty minutes it took you to make and drink your sleep aid. Only when you were wrapped in each other's arms again did you gush, “oh, yes, obviously. How can I thank you, Matty?”

Who could ever think you were anything but beautiful - that he thought you were anything but stunning - when he got such an eager, bashful grin at the suggestion. When his entire face lit up with a pink hue, as if he hasn't helped himself to your body any chance he got. How long have you lived together, and he still got that cute crinkle in the corners of his eyes with the force of his beaming as he dove for your lips. 

“Y'know,” he murmured into your mouth, “I was disappointed when I woke up and you were gone.” 

You dragged your hands down his bare back, snapping his waistband with a grin. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he emphasized, like he was offended by the teasing tone you took with him, snapping your underwear. A warning that he was ready to give as good as he got. “It's not nice to leave your boyfriend all alone in bed.”

You hummed, pretending to really consider that as you let him pull you to straddle his hips. He helped you out of your night shirt, tossing the thin fabric aside and letting out a pleased groan as you plastered your chest to his. You dragged your lips softly over his jaw, a smile twitching into place as he chased you, trying to catch a kiss. “Are you saying you think I should make it up to you?” 

“I'm saying it's been entirely too long since you've sat on my face.” 

A laugh burst from you at that, even as Matt peeled your underwear down your thighs. “Oh, yes, it's already been several days!”

“Exactly: it's been days,” he groaned, offering his hands for you to balance as you tossed around to escape the cotton around your knees, working them down one leg, then the other. 

“Next time,” you promised with a soft kiss, nimble fingers working the strings on his pants. “I drank my-”

“Your sleepy girl mocktail?” He grinned like he could feel your embarrassed glare, kissing the pout off your lips. “Can taste it. You added honey tonight?” 

“I needed something to make it sweeter,” you huffed. A tap on his hip and he lifted them for you, helping you work his pants off. You couldn't help a smile as his dick slapped his stomach, leaving a smudge of pearly precum on his smooth skin. “You're such an evil man,” you accused, wrapping your fingers around his base to watch the way his hips jerked into your palm. A stroke with your thumb along that thick vein and he leaked another stream, dripping down the side of him and onto your hand. “You're this hard when you've been teasing your poor girlfriend?” 

Your hips moved on their own when he slid two thick fingers between his lips, grinding against him as he laved his tongue over the digits. That smug grin you hated to love spread across his face as his wet fingers fit themselves to your slit, one rubbing soft shapes into your clit while the other pressed inside you. “My poor girlfriend,” he mused, “who never gets off on teasing me?” 

You shut him up with a kiss, trying to smother his chuckles that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Still, it didn't stop him from taking advantage, pressing his tongue into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. The bitterness of the tart cherry juice and the sweetness of the honey from your drink dancing on his tongue, disappointingly hiding the taste of you that he's begun to crave. If he pushed deeper, he could almost imagine he found it again, in the back of your throat where nothing could reach but him. Somehow it felt even more intimate than the way you worked each other up with your hands: being the only one to know what you taste like behind the toothpaste and soda you cycled through daily. 

Matt's no idiot. He hears the comments you get, feels the stares - sometimes even more than you do. He wished he could find a way to tell you how wrong they were, but how would he even begin? How do you tell someone that when you wake up alone, the first thing you do is listen for where your girlfriend’s gone? That you could sculpt her exactly from how much you touch her, desperate to commit her to memory. How do you tell someone that even without your sight, your every sense is devoted to her?

He supposed he could settle for making you see stars while he figured it out.

You grinned against Matt's lips, a slight giggle falling out, as he rolled you onto your back. You were always tempted to make fun of him for his favorite position, but there was nothing Catholic about the way he took you.

Your hands kept working his cock as he arranged you - hooking your knees over the crooks of his elbows so he could feel your thick thighs pressed against him - to hear him curse under his breath. “Careful,” he warned, kissing his way down the side of your neck, “or we'll be up all night,”

“Mm, is that supposed to discourage me?” 

A strained laugh against your tender skin as you gave a particularly harsh tug. “You think you're so cute,” he managed out, trying to sound anything other than reverent.

You shared a chaste kiss as you guided him between your thighs. “I'm adorable,”

“Yes, you are. Arms around my neck, angel.” 

You always ended up the same way when one or the other needed some love. Nose to nose, lips glancing off each other like you were shy teenagers again. Your legs over Matt's arms gave him the feeling of holding you completely, letting his hands wander to feel every reaction your body gave him. Your arms around his neck, letting you claw up his back or card through his soft hair, pull his mouth wherever you wanted it. 

A match made in heaven. 

Matt had long since broken you of your bad habit to muffle yourself, the breathy moan falling unhindered from your lips as he pressed into you like coming home. Your voice rang in the empty bedroom, more beautiful than any song, perfectly accompanied by the slick sounds from your cunt as he started a slow, grinding pace. Your hands clenched and unclenched, scratching the base of his neck as you lost yourselves in each other. Lips connected in passing swipes, sharing a deep kiss and almost separating before diving back in. His fingers traced every curve, dip and fold of your soft skin, reveling in your body the way only a man truly in love could. 

The word haunted him until he told you. “Love you,” he managed through heaving breaths, soft and quiet in the privacy of the bed you shared. Then, as if afraid you hadn’t heard him, he said it louder. “I’m in love with you, y’know that?” 

“Matty,”

A great big grin spread over his face when you whined, ankles locking together behind him like you thought he’d stop talking if he fucked you deeper. “Why so shy,” he hummed, stealing another wet kiss. “You didn’t know that? I don’t tell you enough?” He felt your feet kick and your lips turn into a pout, laughing at your mini fit. 

“‘S different,” you insisted, dragging him back to your lips, only to pull him back once you’ve thought of a defense. “In love is bigger than love.” 

It’s a conversation you had in the early stages, when friendship was just barely turning into something more, when you were both stuck dropping hints, hoping the other would make the leap. You didn’t think he remembered until he managed to quote you with his hips pressed into yours. “‘Love is a feeling you can’t control, being in love is a choice- a commitment,’ I know.” He plunged into you as deeply as he could, bringing your lips to his with his palms cupping your round cheeks. He only pulled back when you were both struggling to breathe, searching each other’s air for anything you could get from it. “I,” he enunciated carefully, making sure he left no room for misinterpretation, “am hopelessly in love with you, darling. I choose you every hour of the day. I would choose you in a room of women, I would choose you if you were a worm, and in every other ridiculous scenario that you let keep you up at night.” He heard your lips part as your jaw went slack, smelled the salt of your budding tears as he ranted to you. He pressed a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I know it’s bigger, and you don’t have-”

“I’m in love with you.”

He felt his heart thump in his chest, beating its way out as you dragged him down to your level, smacking a hundred split-second kisses to every inch of his face. “I love you, I am in love with you, I would pick you- I love you so much, Matty!” 

He pulled your hips up higher on his lap so he could get closer to you, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. His firm body pressing into your soft one like he could make a home in your chest, let you surround him until you would never have to be apart. 

“I hope you realize we’ll definitely be up all night now,”

“I’m not the one who has court tomorrow,” 

A giddy laugh smothered in the crook of your neck as his hips started pumping into you again. “You are trouble,”

You pressed your lips to his temple. “Perfect match for you, then.”

“Yes, you are.”

[endursent]

WHAT IF astral express sunday would be too nervous to hold readers hand or hugging them bc his brain goes 💥 until he gets used to it and softens up to reader waa 🎉🎉

HES SO SILLY i want him to explode

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , fluff , character exploration, mild suggestiveness in one section , gn!reader 】

【 note; see sunday mention. NEURON ACTIVATED. i have neglected sunday writing for too long, it's time to sunday post more. 】

【 word count; 1.818 | read on ao3 | masterlist 】

Even after properly defining your relationship as “definitely happening”, Sunday still struggles to adjust to it—not because he doesn’t know what to do specifically, but because he fails to follow through with a lot of it. 

  As soon as he meets your eyes and feels the warmth of your skin at the same time, his brain halts in place like a deer caught in headlights—something about the affection and love in your gaze causes him to freeze, to hesitate and draw back. 

  He wants to enjoy that warmth, he wants to touch your cheek and gaze into your eyes for hours on end, examining every detail of your iris until he has it mapped better than the back of his own hand… but his heart tightens and his arms tingle when he tries. 

  He’s afraid, scared to overstep thresholds whose doors have long since opened wide for his presence. Afraid to take a wrong turn in the endless hallways of his thoughts and what-ifs.

  You don’t push him, you give him time to consider his movement and actions and proceed in the ways he feels comfortable—but you don’t let him pull back too far either. You grasp his hand as it pulls too close to his chest and he swallows when you bring it to yours, you press his palm against your chest and allow him to feel your heartbeat—quickened, excited, yet nervous as well. Sometimes, you’re also nervous. It’s okay to hesitate. 

  Mere moments like brushing his fingers against yours on accident are enough for his head-wings to shoot up into the air. You had simply been reaching for a pistachio in a bowl on a table where you sat with Sunday next to you, and he had coincidentally reached out as well. “A-ah, my apologies,” he pulls his hand back, wings lowering again as one moves halfway up his cheek in a meagre attempt to disguise the dusty red of his cheeks. 

  A small smile tugs on your lips and you take an additional nut to give to him. “It’s okay, here.” He holds his palm open for you to place the pistachio in, but instead of doing so, you peel the shell away with a click and hold it towards his lips. “Open up.”

  Five or so muscles in his face twitch as he leans back, surprised by your sudden approach and the very intimate gesture of trying to feed him—his eyes flicker to the left where Himeko is positively destroying March 7th in a card game, they’re not paying any attention to the two of you at all. 

  Sunday’s lips press together and for a moment you wonder if you might have pushed him a little too far, the red hue of his cheeks deepening as he avoids your eyes… and opens his mouth, just a little—barely enough to fit the small pistachio there.

  Your fingers touch his lips as you manage to set the pistachio on the tip of his tongue hiding only a little behind the bottom row of his teeth, and Sunday thinks he might explode. The way his upper lip lifted a little and a small drop of drool slid under his tongue—thankfully out of sight but definitely not out of mind—when your finger pushed under it to set the nut in his mouth…

  He swallows the pistachio quickly and nervously without chewing it and it almost stops in his throat before he could even realise what he was doing. Sunday might have just perished from embarrassment before the lack of oxygen would kill him were the pistachio to stop in his throat.

  Sunday hasn’t stepped off the Express in a while, he does so rather often, all things considered—usually choosing to at least peek out at the worlds you explore. After all, how can he find himself if he doesn’t look? 

  But he has never experienced a planet like this… you could convince him this is some intergalactically funded horror exhibition if you tried. Long stretches of trees and branches reach into the skies, casting dark shadows on the dull grass that covers the ground as far as one can see. The skies are dark when you hop off the train and practically drag Sunday along.

  He walks close to you, unsure if to reassure himself of your presence among the shadows, or to be ready to give his assistance were you to catch your foot on a root and crash on the ground—you’re walking so fast he can't help but think it’s just a matter of time.

  You feel something touch your thumb and look down, only to see Sunday’s gloved hand retreat. He’s looking ahead and pretending there is nothing strange happening. “Are you scared?” you wonder, tilting your head to get a better look at his face.

  A small frown tugs at his lips, so faint you could barely see it. “Of course not, but I am concerned about us getting lost—do you know where we’re going?” 

  “Kind of,” you sway your hand a little, seeing if you can fish at where he has retracted his to. “Pom-Pom mentioned there a huge city not far from where we dropped down, this world has some real good puddings if I read right.”

  Sunday merely hums in response, following you along. You did finally find the city—high buildings made of darkened wood, but with bright lanterns and strings of lights hanging between buildings to illuminate the streets in a comfortable orange. All the ambiance needs is rain (and for you two be inside a nice café) and it’s perfect.

  The streets, however, are a labyrinth. 

  You get lost only seven minutes after reaching the city, and no matter how you squinted at your phone, you couldn’t wrap your head around the map—and it doesn’t help that despite the darkness, it’s midday, and thus the streets and crowded near shoulder-to-shoulder. This place must be popular despite the gloomy atmosphere. 

  Having almost lost sight of you wandering around trying to get your bearings in the crowd, Sunday gathers his courage and stomps down his thoughts—and takes your hand. 

  You stop where you’re going and turn to look at him. “Hm? Is something wrong?”

  He still avoids your eyes, but his grip is firm. “You’re… still going in the wrong direction.”

  “I am?” you look back down to your phone and tilt it sideways. “Ah! Like this, I get it now… I think.”

  Sunday sighs, stepping closer to you as a person shoulder past your positions—and suddenly the two of you are standing far closer than planned, nearly pressed against the wall of a building that leads to the corner of the street. He can’t stop thinking about your hand against his gloved one, and he also can’t help but notice that your fingers feel cold.

  As you try to figure out the best path towards the mythical pudding, holding your phone out for Sunday to see as well, his fingers and palm engulf yours and try to move some of his heat to you. His thumb rubs over your palm as you speak and the lack of proper reaction from you, yet still laying your hand out to him, helps him find the gesture more natural and comfortable… something he wouldn’t mind indulging in more often. 

  Sunday is a very passive person when it comes to affections, he’s rarely the one to reach out first and needs a bit of a push to even come up with romantic gestures. He considers the time you spend together and the understanding between you to be much more precious and indicative of his affections.

  However, he gets an idea one time from something he saw when scrolling his phone… to leave notes around. Sunday wasn’t sure of it at first—and a little embarrassed that someone else might find them before you do—but gradually began to find it as an easy way to show his attention. 

  Sometimes, the notes have a small message on them (mostly reminding you to sleep more) but other times, there’s no message at all. He came to use it as a ‘I thought of you’ message, where he leaves a blank, small post-it on something. 

  One time you forgot to buy new toothpaste on the Express’ most recent stop and dreaded having to borrow from someone again—until you opened the drawer to fetch your toothbrush and saw a full tube with a small blue post-it on it… now you need to go over to his room and rub his cheeks and thank him for remembering your complaints about always forgetting to buy a new one. 

  Sunday is a surprisingly good caretaker, you caught some sort of cold or flu on a recent trip off the express and have been miserable in bed for days. Up and down, hot and cold, snot-filled and gross on all ends. But he sits down by your bedside and takes your temperature, lays the back of his hand against your heated skin and does all he can to help. 

  One aspect he struggled with was when you got whiny one evening and reached out for a hug…

  While you might mistake his hesitation for disgust, as you are snot-nosed, puffy eyed and half crying from misery—it’s far from what was on his mind. But Sunday feels his chest tighten at the sight of you so miserable, temporary as it is, and he doesn’t have the heart to refuse your embrace. 

  He leans down and lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your clammy forehead rubbing into his shirt as he stiffly pats your head and tries to soothe you. “It’s alright… your fever is going down, you’ll be okay soon, just remember to drink the water on the nightstand, okay?” he mumbles by your ear, and the more you nod and thank him for taking care of you, the more his muscles ease and he shifts a bit to lay down with you, allowing you to burrow into the crook of his neck and find comfort in his presence. 

  Sunday rests his chin over your head and rubs your back. “Would you like me to sing for you?”

  You nod into his shoulder and he closes his mouth to hum familiar tunes, the beginning of a familiar song as the vibrations in his chest rumble against you. His voice is soothing, and his singing is surprisingly soft and gentle. 

  As you drift to well-needed sleep, Sunday stays with you until he’s certain you’ve fallen asleep… and then for a while more, just long enough that he can’t imagine tearing himself away from you—or risking waking you up by rising from the bed. Perhaps it’s alright if he stays the night here, after all, he needs to make sure you hydrate through the night.

[chocopudim]

can touch you?

mr. crawling x fem ! reader, she / her pronouns, blissful love life ending, smut (masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Lately, the monster had been found constantly getting absorbed by the TV, so the human decided to spend some alone time distressing herself. She closed the bedroom door quietly, making sure Mr. Crawling wasn't nearby. Then, walked to their bed, taking small steps not to indicate where she could be.

However, the wooden floor was somewhat old, the bed was a little rusty, and Mr. Crawling seemed to have a sixth sense, telling him about all her possible locations.

She removed her clothes and carefully laid down on their bed, closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths, trying to focus and not think too much about the possibility of Mr. Crawling suddenly walking in. She had closed the door already, there was no way the monster would appear by her side, right?

The human relaxed her body and moved her hand to her chest, circling her skin with one of her fingertips. Her heart was beating fast, still afraid of getting caught by her ghostly roommate.

She moved the other hand between her thighs, gently massaging the area. A small moan escaped her lips. She didn't care though, surely that wouldn't be enough for Mr. Crawling to hear-

_ You hurt? You pain?

She quickly stopped whatever she was doing and directed her sight to the tall man sitting next to her, worry in his voice. The woman loved him dearly but hated how silent and willing he was to follow her everywhere, even when it wasn't needed.

_ M-Me... Huh... - The blood quickly ran to her cheeks as she searched for ways to explain herself. How could one even start to do that while looking at him? Wait, why was he even here and how much did he see?! Didn't she close the door?

_ You okay?

_ Me o-okay...

_ You need help?

_ H-Help?! - The human gasped, shocked.

_ Help. Me want help. - From Mr. Crawling's perspective, the human had probably injured herself while he wasn't looking and she was now moaning in agony. He also thought she looked somewhat cute while lying down like that, but he couldn't exactly understand why.

_ Oh! - She gasped again, finally realizing the monster thought she was hurt and wanted to help with that instead, - Me not need help. Me fine.

_ You fine? Why touch body?

Damn, Mr. Crawling wasn't subtle at all, was he? He must have felt she was trying to hide something. Now, how does one explain what they were doing to him, a monster that doesn't ever need to think about pleasuring himself?

_ T-Touch body make me... V-Very happy.

Happy? Was 'happy' really the right word for that?

_ Touch body make you very happy?

_ Y-Yes... - Deep down, she was praying Mr. Crawling would get the memo and walk away. That interaction couldn't get any more awkward.

_ Why? - Mr. Crawling asked curiously. He was trying to understand his human better and didn't notice how evasive his questions were coming across or how intimate that situation was.

_ Touch... Good. - She tried explaining in the best way she could, but it was hard since their vocabulary seemed to be so limited. The embarrassment also didn't help much. All she wanted to do was to disappear at that exact moment.

_ You like touch body?

_ M-Maybe...

_ You want me touch body?

_ W-What?! - The human exclaimed under her breath.

_ Me want make you very happy. Me want help. Me can touch you?

Was that really happening?

_ T-Touch me? You want touch me?

_ Yes. Can touch you?

Her heartbeats increased and she grew even more flustered. She could feel her heart echoing inside her head as the adrenaline rushed in. And so did Mr. Crawling.

The monster quietly stared at her, patiently waiting for an answer. He was used to touching his human, but not like that... The idea of it was quite alluring to him and he was tempted to explore those new emotions a little bit more.

_ Y-Yes. - The woman panicked after realizing her words. Did she really agree with that? It's not like she didn't want to. But just because they could, should they?

Mr. Crawling smiled, excited to make his human happy. Gently, he grasped one of her breasts, giving it a soft squeeze. His icy cold hands made the human shiver, but it was nice feeling it against her burning body.

_ Cute. - He said, seeming to enjoy how her chest felt, - You like my touch?

_ Y-Y-Yes!

_ Can teach me?

Perhaps, Mr. Crawling wanted to be guided...?

_ You play... - The woman said still feeling awkward about it, but not against it. She placed her hand on top of his and slowly guided him, showing him how to squeeze, pinch, tease... - W-Want consume?

_ Consume?

_ N-Not consume... Use mouth.

For a moment, Mr. Crawling stopped touching her and just analyzed her body language, trying to understand what his human could be trying to say. Then, he smiled as if he had finally figured it out. He placed his mouth, carefully on top of her chest. Then, he opened it, biting the flesh ever so softly. The human moaned again, feeling his tongue play with her nipple.

While Mr. Crawling was busy "consuming", she moved one of her hands between her tights for the second time, slowly massaging it. Mr. Crawling noticed her legs were moving a little bit more than before and looked down, removing his mouth from her chest.

_ Me consume legs?

_ Huh? - Before she could form a proper sentence, Mr. Crawling placed himself between her legs, fascinated by how interesting the human body could be. There were so many things he didn't know about... He touched her pussy with one of his fingers, making the woman shiver again due to how sudden it was.

_ Me touch? Me consume?

_ Y-You want touch? Want c-c-consume?

_ Yes. - He smiled, the same way he usually did, before inserting one of his long fingers inside of it. The woman gasped, biting her bottom lip to not moan too loudly, - You like touch? - He asked, slowly moving his finger in and out. He didn't know what he was doing but enjoyed observing her reactions. The monster just wanted to play with her and would continue entertaining her as long as she enjoyed it.

He liked how her face moved with every touch, the small sounds she made, the way her chest bounced, how soft and warm her skin was, the way her back slightly arched, and how she would move her hips... Mr. Crawling couldn't explain why, but he was fascinated by all of it.

_ Why wet? - Mr. Crawling asked again, circling her labia with his fingertips.

_ T-Touch good...

Then, a sudden question popped up in his head. What did his human taste like? Mr. Crawling asked himself as he removed his hand from her.

He planned to use his mouth from now on.

Noticing what he was about to do, she held his silk-black hair in her hands, slightly pulling it. Wanting to return the touch, Mr. Crawling squeezed her breast between his fingers.

The human felt a slight sense of anxiety while feeling his hot breath against her skin. Then, his mouth evolved it. The human shivered at how cold his lips felt in comparison to his tongue.

The monster slowly circled his tongue around her labia, before starting to move it up and down, enjoying how her back would arche differently.

It took him a few minutes, but he eventually found the clitoris. Realizing how much more sensitive she would get every time he touched that area, he started teasing it, licking it slowly at first.

The woman's hips eventually started moving faster and faster, and Mr. Crawling tried keeping up with her. The more she moaned, the deeper Mr. Crawling tried to go.

As her legs started shaking, she instinctively pulled his face against her pussy, letting out a loud moan. Mr. Crawling held her tights, squeezing them against his face. How could someone feel so warm and soft? He also really enjoyed the taste.

Mr. Crawling pulled away from her after noticing her lack of movement. Watching the way her body slowly grew relaxed as something else grew on him...

_ Me make you happy?

_ You make me happy... Me thankful. - She replied with a small smile plastered on her face, trying to catch her breath.

_ You like me touch body? Me good?

_ Yes. - The woman laughed lightly at his silly questions. - You good. You very good. Me like you. A lot.

_ Me glad. - Mr. Crawling smiled widely. One could tell he was feeling pretty happy and even proud about it, - You good. Me like you.

_ You fine...? - She asked slightly worried, wanting to make sure Mr. Crawling was okay with what had just happened between them, - You like touch body?

_ Yes. Me like body. You cute. - The monster answered sweetly, jumping on top of her for a hug, - You fine?

_ Me fine.

The two of them closed their eyes as they hugged, simply enjoying that small intimate moment... But suddenly, Mr. Crawling broke the silence, looking completely serious.

_ Not let others touch you. Me can touch you.

[portraitsofguilt]

── # 𝗠𝗘𝗟𝗧 𝗠𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗖𝗘 jinx/powder au

description. as the hours slip by after closing time, powder and you circle each other, your unspoken connection undeniable, the space between the two of you bridging. the thick and sweet tension lingers before you completely give into it.

content warnings.          18+ MDNI, nsfw content, SMUT, female-bodied reader, they are friends who pine after each other, reader is very angsty (it's because i'm listening to a song), making out, consent is so fucking hot, cunnilingus (powder receiving),

author's note.   idk how much this fic delivers but i tried to, I TRIED OKAY? I WAS BEING SAPPY ABOUT IT BUT I GOT IT OUT SO PLEASE DON'T HATE IT. reblogs and feedback is always appreciated, enjoy, please <3

the bar was nearly empty by the time powder finished wiping down the last of the glasses. the hum of the neon lights was the only sound in the otherwise silent room, the night stretching on into the early hours. outside, the streets were quiet, a thin mist rolling over the cobblestones.

you rested your head on your folded arms as you sat behind the bar, a little too close for comfort, watching her work with an intensity that made your chest tighten. powder moved with ease, her motions fluid and unhurried, as if the world could wait while she took her time. but her eyes- those sharp, blue eyes- kept flicking over to you, catching the way you studied her.

you had been drawn to her from the start, her warmth, her energy, something that clung to her like a melody. she was the type who could make a room brighter just by being there, and yet, there was always something about her that seemed to whisper, to beckon, as if she knew exactly how to make you feel something deep inside you.

you were cold-had always been cold-so distant, so unreachable. but with her, it felt like maybe... maybe you didn't have to be.

powder finished stacking the last of the glasses and turned to face you, leaning against the bar casually. her lips twitched into a smile, her gaze soft but knowing.

"you know," she teased, "it's rude to be so obvious."

you chuckled, but there was an underlying tension, something in the way she had you hanging on her every word. you had tried- tried so hard- not to care, but her eyes, full of understanding seemed to see right through you as if she knew exactly how to crack the ice on your heart.

"maybe i like being obvious," you said, your voice low, but playful. "what are you gonna do about it?"

powder's smile only widened, her eyes narrowing with mischief. "what if i kiss you?"

the question hung in the air as if she were testing the waters, seeing if you would retreat or lean in. you swallowed, heart racing, a strange warmth spreading through your chest. you should have said something, anything, to keep her at arm's length. but in that moment, you didn't want to push her away. you wanted to feel the heat she offered.

instead, you get off the bar, your gaze meeting hers with a quiet challenge. "go ahead," you murmured, straightening your posture on the chair.

she closed the space between you without hesitation, her lips brushing against yours with the gentleness of a question. the kiss was soft, tender, and surprisingly calm. for a moment, you allowed yourself to surrender to it, to feel the warmth of her presence, and the steady thump of your heart in your chest.

"you are not as cold as you make yourself out to be." she murmured, her voice quiet, teasing, but laced with something genuine.

you were the one leaning in the second time, slowly, as if savoring the moment, before your lips brushed against hers. powder didn't pull away, her hand resting on the counter under the marble of the bar as she let you take the lead. when you deepened the kiss, her lips parted slightly in acceptance, a soft sigh escaping her.

there was a rush, but no need to push boundaries. she let you explore, every soft press of your lips, every touch an invitation to let go. powder wasn't the type to rush things, but tonight, she made an exception. she welcomed you in, embraced your all but hesitant vulnerability, and made you feel like it was okay to need something more than just the distance you had built around yourself.

when the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, eyes locked. powder's smile was soft, reassuring, as she slowly pulled back, her fingers now lightly grazing your arm. "you really know how to get a girl's attention," she whispered, her voice a little breathless.

"then let me give you some more." this wasn’t an obsession or an opportunity to feel something more than the creeping feeling of mortality caused by your frigid heart- it was something close to love.

your mouth moves to her throat, leaving hungry kisses along her throat as your hands muster up the courage to touch her, and after a few well-placed hickes you surface for air, hoisting her up onto the counter.

"can i?" your eyes filled with desire as you drop to your knees in front of her, manoeuvering her to quickly bunch and push her skirt up. she nods dumbly, her breath hitching in her chest when you reach for her panties, pulling them aside, exposing her cunt to the open air, body trembling in anticipation of what you're about to do.

you look up at her through thick lashes, fingers grazing against her inner thigh and up towards her awaiting core, waiting for another nod, a whimper- anything to know this is the right thing to do. you run your fingertips over her slit and collect up all the slick pooled there, smearing it over her clit as she hums in approval.

not wasting any time now, you lean in and with the first stroke of your tongue, you already have her whimpering out your name as you fuck her with your tongue. powder's hands come up to tug on your hair, pulling on your locks and moan out the cursing she was trying to hold back. "fuck." she breathes, her hand tightening in your hair as you continue pumping your tongue in and out, moving fast, surprising her with a thumb over her clit.

"please..." she whispers, hips bucking as her toes curl inside her shoes, her thighs clenching around your head. "please don't stop."

the thought of the first time spotting her across the bar was supposed to be the last thing on your mind, following the memory of your clumsy way of trying to make conversation and how she smiled at you, laughing, inviting you to take a second to think. you wanted to keep this memory close to your heart, keep it forever locked inside. you couldn't explain how much it affected you, that it still affects you, and yet the burning in your heart doesn't feel like a burden anymore.

"fuck..." she thrusts her hips upwards as she moans and whines continue to spill from her lips as you lick and such on her, tormenting her sensitive bundle of nerves and flicking your tongue against it harshly.

she is panting, absolutely consumed by the pleasure, the bumps of your nose against her clit when your tongue slithers back inside her dripping cunt. her grip on you is merciless as she gets closer and closer to coming undone into your mouth.

you flatten your tongue and hold it flush against her, shaking your head side to side, slurping up at her sopping hole and moaning into her. "g-gonna cum... fuck-" she cries out, begging you to give her what she wants without hesitation. her thighs claiming around your head as she grinds into your face, her senses tingling, seeing white when the knot in her finally tears and she cums all over your mouth.

the taste of her still lingering on your lips despite vigorous licking as a means of cleaning, standing up straight again and connecting your mouths lazily, tongues meeting messily, and letting her taste herself.

she pulls away and presses her forehead against you, smiling at her dreamily as she looks into your blow pupils and listens to your voice whispering to her, "should be so obvious now that i want your heart to melt mine."

[sxcret-garden]

Making out with Ateez

ღ Ateez all members x gn!reader ღ genre: fluff (?), very suggestive (not quite smut yet, but also not appropriate for my sfw blog so I'm posting it here :')) ღ warnings: none

Hongjoong:

You've barely taken off all your clothes when he's already pulling you into the shower, a smile on his face filled with adoration for you, and he can't take his eyes off you. You've been making out for quite a while before this, and from the way he touches you unhurriedly and with much care you can tell he can keep going like this for another while until the need for more will finally overcome him. But for now he pulls you close gently, a smile still present on his lips as he leans in to give you a short kiss, and when he turns on the shower and the warm water flows down your skin, you relax yet a little more in his arms. Fingertips dancing down your back and drawing little pattern along your spine, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips, where he lingers. The taste of him and that of the water mixes on your tongue as he parts your lips to deepen the kiss, and one of his hands snake up to the back of your neck to support you there. Chest pressed against chest, all you can do is hold onto his shoulders as he kisses you with great care, but need is slowly taking over his movements. Teeth nibbling on your lower lip, he only gets more eager when he hears you moan at his actions, and eventually his palms wander from your back to your front, touching you there. "Hongjoong..." you call out his name in between kisses, "I need you." Your muttered words are met with darkened eyes and a promise to take care of you, before he closes the distance between you two again. His kiss is almost rushed this time, though he's careful when pushing you against the shower wall so you two won't slip. The impact makes you gasp - merely an excuse for him to move away from your lips, starting to trail kisses down your throat and chest instead.

Seonghwa:

With his hand on the small of your back he brings you in closer, eyes glued to your mouth as his tongue darts over his bottom lip. The tension is obvious in the whole room, and though you feel like you could burst right then and there, you drag out the wait just a little longer. As you're sitting in his lap, you roll your hips once, drawing a barely audible sound from him and you watch as his eyes flutter shut for a second. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, you play with the ends of his short hair, and then finally you lean in. It's you who makes the first move, but you know that Seonghwa will soon take the lead from you - too high his confidence in making you go crazy with a single kiss, and too big his greed to feel you giving yourself up to him completely on top of him. You brush your lips against the corner of his mouth softly, withdrawing immediately so as to keep him from making you hand over control right away, but when you lean in once more you can't resist the velvety sensation of his lips against yours. His touches are hot from the start, kissing you as if he wanted to devour you - but in a very graceful way that has fooled you before. His fingertips sneaking underneath your clothes and leaving teasing touches on your skin are burning, and yet you want more, and when you wiggle even closer to him you already know he's got you trapped under his spell. Tongue skillfully exploring your mouth, his hand at the small of your back gives you but one nudge to make you roll your hips on top of him at a steady pace, and as you feel his bulge growing underneath you, heat rushes through your own body as well.

Yunho:

You crawl on top of him, straddling him on your bed, and taking off your shirt, you throw him a smile. Yunho simply watches, hands flying to your hips instinctively, but his fingertips merely brush against the skin there. He lets you have the lead for now, curious of what you’re about to do. You cup his face in both your hands and you lean in, lips brushing against his and lingering for a while, and when you bring some distance between the two of you to get a good look at his face, you can see the desire burning up behind his half-lidded eyes. “You want me?” you ask while you shoot him a playful grin, and when you see him nod ever so slightly, you press your index finger against his parted lips. “Let’s go slow today, baby.” Leaning back in, you kiss him unhurriedly. You feel him falling into your rhythm, letting you lead as your palms begin to roam his chest and eventually you rake your fingers up into his hair. Tugging at the strands as you part his lips with your tongue, you deepen the kiss. And though you can feel a fire ignite deep inside you, you keep going slow. Eventually you pull his shirt off him too, both of you now sitting up, and Yunho’s hands are grasping at you more firmly. Palms placed on your sides, he looks up at you, and you take in his expression as you roll your hips on top of him once, watching as his eyelids flutter shut momentarily. Muttered words of praise escape you, before you press your lips onto his once more, and suddenly the way you find yourself kissing him becomes sloppy and impatient. With his hands dancing up your torso, you grind against him, and eventually he cups your face and he breaks the kiss. Thumb brushing over your lower lip, his gaze drops to your mouth, and as he draws closer, you know it’s his turn to take the lead now. Nibbling on your bottom lip, he makes you moan into the next kiss, and you allow yourself to melt against his touch, until he flips your positions, now hovering above you. You throw your arms around his shoulders, reaching up into his hair again, and you throw your head back as he begins leaving kisses down your throat, and moving further down, and soon his lips are mapping out your whole body. 

Yeosang:

What started as a few playful kisses to motivate him during his workout is beginning to turn into more of a heated makeout session than you two had planned. He had wanted to get in a few quick exercises at home, and as he was doing sit ups you had decided to help him, taking a hold of his legs to steady him and receiving a peck on the lips with every time he came all the way up. You were giggling about it at first, but sure enough the sight of your boyfriend working out in a sleeveless shirt awakened entirely different feelings within you. And so you’re now hovering above him as he’s lying down on the floor, leaning in for a teasing kiss on the lips. Too soon you move on to make your way from the corner of his mouth down his throat, and when he leans his head back to give you better access, you linger there for a while. Nipping at the skin and luring a deep moan out of him as you sink your teeth into one particular spot, you remind yourself not to leave a mark on him where it would be visible. Instead, you come back up to have a look at his face, and one of your hands finds its way underneath his shirt. Fingertips dancing over his abs, you make your way to his chest, pulling up the piece of clothing as you go. Yeosang lets you, curious eyes watching your every move, and when you begin leaving kisses down his chest, you feel him letting go of the tension in his body underneath you. You reach his stomach eventually, letting your lips explore that area of his body as well, and eventually you force yourself to make your way back up. “Not yet,” you whisper, barely audible, finding a hint of impatience in the look he gives you. You lean back in, kissing him properly and not wasting much time to deepen the kiss as you moan into his mouth. With you taking the lead, he follows you, his arms sneaking around your waist to pull you closer. Eventually, you find yourself reaching for his wrists, your lips brushing against his palms, and as you pin his hands above his head, he simply lets you, longing for your next kiss. 

San:

You know your boyfriend is doing this on purpose whenever he gets out of the shower, towel merely wrapped around his hips and his skin and hair still damp. And it's not like you can even blame him, because you know that if his plan of luring you towards him with that appearance works, you're sure to be in for a treat. And today it sure does, because you get up without resistance, and when you're standing in front of him, his hands are already resting on your waist, thumbs sneaking underneath your shirt. You run your nails down his upper body, mapping out his toned chest and abs as he leans in to kiss you. It's a feathery light kiss, quite in contrast to his intentions, but the way his lips linger on yours only make you want more. Palms moving all the way back up his torso, you place your hands at the back of his neck to bring him back in just after he parts from you, this time running your tongue across his lips to part them and to deepen the kiss. He lets you take the lead, but only for a bit, because next thing you know he has you pressed against the wall with your hands pinned above your head. Kisses you with such fervour and passion that your head starts to spin and when you break apart you're not only breathless but also devoid of all thought. Already your mind is filled with nothing but him, and so when he lets go of your wrists to pull your shirt off you instead, your hands find their way to his back, feeling his muscles dance underneath the skin with each of his movements. His lips don't hesitate to find yours in another passionate kiss, and when you feel him rolling his hips into yours to tease you, you moan into his mouth, and he does the same when impatience drives you to drag your nails down his broad back.

Mingi:

You didn't mean to interrupt him as he was preparing dinner for the two of you, but as you snuck up to him to give him a playful backhug, one thing just led to another and he turned around to give you a kiss that felt maybe a little too passionate for the situation. So now he has you standing there, starstruck, realizing the effect his unexpected action had on you. And just when he gives you a smile full of adoration, you take a step forward and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him in for another kiss. When you part this time, one look at each other's face is enough to know that he's not gonna continue cooking anytime soon. And so instead he gently nudges you into a different position with one hand on your waist and the other cupping your face, so he could trap you in between the kitchen counter and his body. His lips find yours again with chaste but curious touches as if he was kissing you for the very first time. But really, it's all just his way of teasing you and of making you want more eventually, and you know it. Still, you can't but enjoy the way he leads your kisses, falling deeper into the push and pull game he's playing with you by always parting from you when he can feel you starting to melt against him. Eventually he helps you sit up atop the kitchen counter, and with your legs wrapped around him to keep him close, you become more demanding in the way you kiss him back. Hands roaming his chest and eventually tearing off his shirt impatiently, you've reached a point where the need to feel his kisses not just on your mouth, but all over your body arises. And you know he feels the same, because his palms are now restlessly searching your figure, eventually finding their way underneath your clothes, and when you feel him finally trailing kisses down the side of your throat you can't help but throw your head back and whisper praises meant to keep him going.

Wooyoung:

You bite your lip as you lay back on his bed and you watch him crawling on top of you. Extending your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair, neither of you wastes a single second to connect your lips to the other's. His kiss already tells you everything - that he wants you and that he's probably been thinking about all the things he's about to do to you the entire day. Still you know he's not one to rush things, especially when it comes to alone time with just you, and that's something you can read in his kiss as well. He moves his lips against yours slowly, but with deliberation in every single touch. He wants you, and he wants to take his time with you to savour every moment spent with you like this. And yet, everything he does to you feels so intense - the way he's now trailing kisses from the corner of his mouth to your jaw, the way his lips brush against your skin, and also the way his hands are slowly sliding down your arms so he could intertwine his fingers with yours. Thumb rubbing soothing circles at the back of one hand, he leaves little nips and curious bites down the side of your throat, and when he finally lures a moan out of you he can't but grin in satisfaction. There's mischief in his eyes as he comes up to have a look at your face, and even in between all of his teasing he won't let it be taken away from him to cup your face lovingly in his palm, brushing his thumb over your cheek now, before he leans back in for another kiss meant solely to rile you up some more.

Jongho:

You rush inside from the unexpected rain hand in hand, hurrying so as to reach your dry apartment soon, yet giggling because somehow the two of you find amusement in the way none of you came prepared for the weather. Without an umbrella at hand, you both became drenched in the sudden rain, and so obviously the first thing to do as you arrive home would be to find a dry set of clothes to change into. Or so you had thought, because as soon as you have taken off your shoes and locked up, he gets a few steps ahead of you, making you halt with his eyes glued to your lips. No thoughts wasted on why he’s stopping you, your body simply responds to the way he gives you merely a gentle push with his hand at the small of your back, and before you know it, your eyes flutter shut and he’s kissing you. You can taste the rain as his lips brush against yours, and when your hands search for something to hold onto, you find his soaked sweater, tugging at the fabric to pull him yet a little closer. You break apart for air eventually, unable to escape the way he’s mustering you from top to bottom, and almost forgetting to breathe under his intense stare. One hand now cupping your face, and the other resting on your hip to give you a gentle squeeze there, he steers you back a few steps until he has you pinned against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours again. Not letting you deepen the kiss just yet, he breaks apart from you too soon, and as he sneaks his thumb underneath your shirt, you can hear him mutter, “You’re gonna catch a cold.” Understanding what he’s hinting at, you let him help you slip out of the piece of clothing, and as soon as it lands on the floor, his hands are back on your sides. He kisses you with more passion now, pulling you in yet a bit closer, and all you can do is match his rhythm as you feel yourself melting against his kiss.

[jeonjaemark]

baby please come home || choi seungcheol

content warning: light suggestive, sexual themes, MDNI // masterlist

“you’re so serious.” he giggles, pulling his phone closer to him.

i cut down the strip of paper and fold it diagonally creating a pattern before looking back at my phone. seungcheol was laid up against the headboard of his bed in the hotel room. for the past hour we have been talking back and forth while i tried to wrap up some last minute gifts i bought.

“wrapping gifts is an art form.”

“babe, people are going to end up ripping the paper anyways.”

“you know i could always return or revoke your christmas gift.” i stick my tongue out at him. “and for your information everyone always compliments my wrapping skills.”

“i know. everyone compliments me too.” he winks.

i roll my eyes at his word play and set the newly wrapped gift under the tree.

“what did you get me for christmas?” he asked curiously.

“i forgot. you would have to ask kkuma cause she was with me when i wrapped it.” i half laughed as he pouts his lips glaring at me. “even if she tells you, you will have to wait until after christmas when you get back to open it.”

“can i open you instead?” a smug grin on his lips.

i bit back my tongue from the bait and just shake my head at him. kkuma walks over to me, brushing herself against me. seungcheol’s face lights up at the sight of her.

“kkuma! hi!” seungcheol coos through the screen.

she doesn’t pay attention to him, not even turning her head at the sound of his voice. she leans into my hand as i gently stroke through her hair. she leans up to kiss my cheek making me giggle. seungcheol repeatedly fails to call kkuma to his attention while i kept cracking jokes about how kkuma loves me more than him. i glance back at my phone finding him sulking.

“kkuma! you knew me and love me first before you knew her. why are you ignoring me?” seungcheol spat making me laugh.

kkuma continues to circle around me as i reach around to touch her. she walks off bringing back her favorite ball i recently bought her. i tossed it across the room as she chased after it. seungcheol watches us play together when i notice something flash over his eyes.

“is it wrong that i hate the fact i am working through christmas this year?”

“no, it makes you human.”

“i wish i was home. i miss my girls.” he brings the phone closer to his face.

“we miss you too. i wish you were home for christmas. it’s our holiday that started everything.”

“we can actually can thank kkuma too for that.” he chuckles.

i stroll down the pathway leading towards the large grass field. a few people were playing on the field kicking back and forth a soccer ball. a couple was sat under a tree with a picnic blanket talking and giggling. i take a deep breath taking in my scenery. when reach into my bag searching for my phone, i feel something pawing at my legs. i look down to find a small white fluff at my legs. she leaps up pawing at me until i giggle kneeling down to her.

“hi puppy. what are you doing here? you’re so cute.” i scratch behind her. she stands on her hind legs licking my cheek.

“kkuma! kkuma! come here, baby!” a deep voice calls out.

i look back finding a tall buff man dressed in a beanie, hoodie and jeans. his cheeks were flushed with red from the cold as he walked closer to me. his soft brown eyes meet mine and a surge of warmth rushes through my veins.

“i am sorry about her. she tends to explore on her own. i’m seungcheol by the way and you’ve met kkuma already.”

“no worries. she’s cute and very sweet.” i stood up reaching to shake his hand. “i am y/n.”

“thank you. she seems to really like you.” he smiles taking a step closer.

“maybe she has a good intuition. you know cute girls tend to gravitate towards other cute girls.” i grin running my hand again over kkuma.

“maybe. speaking of gravitating, what gravitated you to come to the park?”

“i just wanted some fresh air and needed to get out of the confinement of my hotel room.”

“you’re not from here?”

i shake my head, “i am just visiting for the holiday season.”

“well while you’re in town, maybe kkuma and i can help show you around the city? that’s if you and your boyfriend aren’t doing anything.”

i bit back a smile but failed miserably, “i am not seeing anyone right now.”

“that’s great. wait… i mean…” he rubs the back of his neck with hand. his face scrunching up from tripping over his words “i mean that’s great as in we can show you around. not ‘that’s great’ that you’re single or anything. not that i am wondering if you are single or anything. wait i mea—“

“seungcheol, would you and kkuma like to have a lunch on wednesday with me?” i asked saving him from further stress and embarrassment.

“yes, we would love to.”

kkuma’s soft bark brings me back to reality and i look at her as she stood at the doorway. her head held high as she stares me down.

“babe, i will call you back. kkuma needs to use the restroom.”

“it’s okay. i have to go anyways. i am gonna have to head out soon so i am just gonna take a quick nap. i will try to call after i settle back into my room later.”

“okay. be safe and have fun. i love you.”

“have fun wrapping the rest of the gifts. i love you.” he blows me a kiss. “i love you too kkuma.”

—————————

kkuma strides next to me as we walk down the pathway towards the grass field. for the good part of our day kkuma and i have been a bunch of couch potatoes snuggling together. i didn’t feel like moving much since christmas eve is meant for lazing around but i did answer back to a few work emails. plus the holidays aren’t the same without seungcheol. some of my friends and family have either called or texted me, wishing a happy holidays, merry christmas eve and updating me on the chaos preparations for the holiday parties or the new drama they learnt from family over the last few hours.

halfway through my movie marathon my eyes started to hurt and kkuma started to have zoomies around the apartment. it was to the point where i thought she was bouncing off the walls as she turns from one corner to the next. the moment i asked her if she wanted to go to the park, she immediately zoomed to grab her harness from the basket near the front door.

we made it down to the open grass field. there wasn’t as many people today since it’s a holiday. a few younger children were playing in the corner screaming and laughing with a rubber ball. one of the kids noticed kkuma and went zooming towards her. the little girl dressed in baby blue tracksuit with her pigtails flopping in the air stops halfway when she saw kkuma hid behind my legs. i kindly wave at the little girl smiling and crouch down towards kkuma. she hops into my arms and the little girl walks closer but remains at a respectful distance admiring her.

the younger girl waves at kkuma before darting back to her family. i wave kkuma’s paw in her direction before setting her back down and removing her leash. i run my fingers through her hair a few times before holding up her favorite bright green ball. her eyes light up in excitement as she stood tall on all four legs being attentive towards my hand. i draw my hand back tossing the ball a few feet away and kkuma zooms right after it.

in between tossing the ball back and forth with my fluff ball, i glance down at my phone. there was nothing. not a single text or call from him. i click on instagram and immediately get flooded with everyone’s holiday photos and videos of either cooking, playing games or opening presents. someone from my old high school posted her photos of her engagement ring she got the other day with her new fiancé. i swipe out of the app sighing to myself.

kkuma drops the ball in front of me and when i throw the ball i don’t realize the amount of force i used. she goes zooming again down the field but this time a little further than i am used to. i walk after her to make sure she is safe but she continues to run down the field. an uncomfortable pit in my stomach forms causing me to jog down after her.

“kkuma! kkuma! come here!” i shout after her.

kkuma continues to run not listening to me. her speed is mind boggling, considering she is tiny. it seem like she was getting further and further away.

when i finally spot a white fluff ball with a pink bow i notice her playing with a tall buff man in a pink hoodie. why does that hoodie look so familiar? i call out kkuma’s name hoping this time she will respond but she still continues to play with him. the man pushes himself up from grass and looks in my direction.

i stop in my tracks in disbelief when his face comes into clear view. dark brown eyes. bushy eyebrows. creamy moonlight skin. pouty lips. that can’t be him.

“i think we solved the argument over who kkuma loves more.” he calls out teasingly.

i slowly walk to him, still trying to process it’s him. seungcheol says something to kkuma and she goes flying towards me with him jogging lightly. they meet me halfway and it starts to settle that’s he’s here. he’s real. it’s not figment of my imagination.

“your dog is really cute.” he smirks walking up to me.

“thank you. her dad and i think she is really cute too.”

“oh, you’re taken? your boyfriend must have good taste having a cute dog and a cute girlfriend.”

“yeah, i would consider him lucky, but he does have a jealous side. so i wouldn’t want you to stand too close to me.”

seungcheol chuckles before pulling me into his embrace. i wrap my arms around him burying my face into the crook of his neck. the hollow feeling in my chest disappears filling up with oozing warmth. at the strength of seungcheol’s arms around me, i think we know who misses who more. kkuma jumps up at us barking and wanting attention but we were both too wrapped in each other to cave into her.

“what are you doing here?” i pull away enough to look at him.

“our schedule wrapped up early today and i asked if i could take an earlier flight back than everyone else.” his smile beaming from ear to ear. “i didn’t want to be away from you longer especially today.”

“i’m happy you’re home.” i lean up kissing the corner of his lips.

“me too.”

kkuma barks again after a few minutes of silent and we both look down at her chuckling. seungcheol reaches down to pet her again and she licks up his face while i clip her leash back to her harness and stuff her toys back into her bag. seungcheol takes the leash from me and i wrap my hand around his arm leaning my head in his shoulder as we walk back to the apartment.

—————————

i rub my cheek against the soft surface underneath me when i feel seungcheol pull the blanket more to cover my body and protect me from the cold. his hand gently running up and down my back in a comforting motion. some people were talking on the tv but i couldn’t recognized the show, movie or video playing quietly in the background. i snuggle my face closer to his chest breathing in his woody clean scent.

“you know it’s creepy to stare.” i murmured, my eyes still closed.

“it’s creepy for random people who do not know you, not for someone who is in love with you.”

i look up at him from my eyelashes as the corner of lips rises at his words, “ugh, you’re home for less than twenty four hours and you’re already getting too clingy.” i joke, pushing myself off him.

seungcheol tightens the blanket and his arm around my body preventing me from leaving. i laugh falling back down to his chest.

“i have a little christmas present for you.”

“i thought i got my christmas present last night. it’s the reason i am sore today because someone clearly missed me.” i giggle.

“well, today is actually christmas day and this is more sentimental and something you can wear and not have it stuffed inside you.” he teases, handing me the small velvet box. “but i would be more than happy to oblige to the latter if you’re in the mood for some more.”

seungcheol kisses my temples and hands me the box. i exam the small velvet exterior suspiciously before flipping it open. a small gold chain bracelet with a heart charm at the center.

“oh my god, cheol!” i gasped staring at the box. “you shouldn’t have. this is so beautiful.”

“it’s the same one like mine so we can match” he holds his wrist next to the box. “you’re always running your fingers over mine so i thought why not get you one that matched.”

“you know the jewelry you’ve gotten me each year keep going down my body. first the earrings then the necklace and now a gold bracelet. should i be expecting a ring next year?” i joked, taking the bracelet out.

“well, we’ve talked about it a lot. maybe one day i will just randomly take you ring shopping without you realizing it.”

seungcheol helps me put on the bracelet around my wrist. i held up against the natural sunlight and it shines. i run my fingers over the bracelet. seungcheol has joked around in the past about getting a matching bracelet with me but i didn’t take him seriously. i didn’t realize my habit of running my fingers over his bracelet until he pointed it out to me a few months ago. it’s just a comforting thing but the fact he bought me one identical to his made me speechless.

“thank you, cheol. i love this but i hope you know that this doesn’t mean i will stop touching your bracelet.” i said sternly.

“i would never suggest such a thing.” he teased.

“i love you.”

“i love you more.”

i lean down taking his lips against mine. a bubbling sensation rises in stomach at the way he kisses me. this kiss is the complete opposite of last night. instead of fast, rough and eager, it’s slow, gentle and intimate as if he wanted to take his time. seungcheol kiss wasn’t a mission this time, it was a journey. his fingers roam up and down the side of my body and squeezes my waist. when i move my hips i feel something poking at the side of my inner thigh. it takes me a second to process it and i pull away from him biting back a full laugh.

“how are you hard already?”

“it can’t be helped when i am around you.” he says sheepishly. “plus you kept moving and it felt good.”

i shake my head at him chuckling, ”well if it felt good then who am i to deny you of that feeling.” i move my hips against his again earning a soft moan against my lips.