#signal hill: asks

[polarmoon]

hey!!! I love your signal hill, I was wondering about what the map looks like/what are the areas and where they are, related to each other? We've seen the trailer park and the suburbs, and the duplexes, are there others? Sorry lol I'm invested and curious

omg dont apologize i love questions like this!! im a huge nerd abt hood planning so im always happy to talk abt it :D

i used river's bend for signal hill's terrain, i wanted a map that wasn't too big but still had room for expansion/rebuilding later and this one was perfect

so signal hill is broken up into 3 main sections (downtown, the suburbs, and the trailer park), but there are also some zones on the outskirts that have some story behind them too. i tried to keep things structured based on class, kind of like how a real town would be laid out, but i think i still need to work on really defining the areas.

first up, at the eastern entrance of town is this long stretch of road called "signal street". the science lab is the first thing you see when you enter the town from this side. other than the lab, the armstrong family lives here, and there are a few businesses, notably a bowling alley and a restaurant. at the very end of the road, near the entrance to the main town section, there's the town cemetery, fittingly right next door to the local goth bar, and some apartment buildings. this is where aj, mikey, and markus lived, but i'm in round 5 rn so they've since moved around

up from where the science lab is, we've got paradise park, the local trailer park, and the surrounding residential area. this is where the dunn sisters and erik started out living. other notable spots being the dive bar, a diner, a little convenience store, a campground (hood deco), a playground, and an old abandoned shack that the ✨rowdy youths✨ hang out at.

leaving the eastern area of town we've got the town center. lots of hood deco over here but also some functional spots (library, gym, restaurants, nightclub, clothing store, arcade, grocery store, parks, etc). down by the river there's also a retirement community that i haven't had the chance to use yet

and finally, north from the city center are the suburbs. i'm not super happy with how the houses are laid out and they're all random ones i downloaded cuz i just wanted to fill the area lol but i'm sure i'll end up developing this zone as i play more. this is where the lee family, daniel and arhan, and the kirk family live. the second screenshot gives you a decent view of pretty much the whole town.

im very happy with how the hood is turning out :] it's always a wip though, but generally this is how it's probably gonna be structured for as long as i play.

[signalhill-if]

v1.1.0 - THE TEST RUN UPDATE IS OUT NOW

This version includes several huge updates to Signal Hill, including...

NEW LEADS

TEST RUN (24.5k). You've convinced the Lamplighters to give you a chance- but before you can become a member, you'll have to do a little test run. Nothing big, of course. One of her guys has been kidnapped by a gang called the Motorheads, and she's just going to drop off the ransom and pick him up. Hopefully nothing goes wrong...

SHOTGUN ROMANCE (4.5k). You chatted up the guard at The Rose and Thorn, Reese, and it seems like he's into you. He asked you to meet him at the bar in The Stacks after work. This would be a good chance to learn a little about The Rose and The Red Light District. And also maybe get laid? (This lead is not available for male player characters)

QUALITY OF LIFE CHANGES

Some players felt that turning off location descriptions caused them to get too disoriented when walking around the overworld. I've implemented a new system by which every location will show the full description upon first visiting, and after that, it will be replaced by a condensed one paragraph description. You can always re-read the full one by clicking the location's title. This should save some scrolling for folks who don't want to turn off descriptions!

For devotees, the altar is now accessible. If you already set up your altar and it was not accessible, it now will be. You can sacrifice items there to receive a buff to one of your skills at a time.

For a full list of bug fixes and updates in this version, check out the public release notes, which will be updated for every new version of the game.

PLAY IT NOW.

Patreon | Ko-fi | Public Trello | Submit bug report | Release notes

[randombook4idk]

Hello my dears! My name is Ahlam Hilles, I ask you to support my campaign to help me reach my goal. I am now in dire need of your support to help my family save them from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip. Gaza is a very dangerous place. I need your financial support to enable me to obtain the basic needs of my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help the family survive their ordeal through your small donations or by sharing my campaign with your friends and others. Thank you very much for standing by those in need.

€56/€30,000

[nostromo130]

drawings of my Signal Hill character Ringer (he/him). yayayy

[chipperskipper]

🎶✨️when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)🎶✨️

Music is life! These are a random 5 I listen to basically every week, it was taking too long to think of 5 absolute favorites. Thanks for the ask!

1. Easier, The Crane Wives

2. i thank you god, Eric Whitacre (based on the ee cummings poem)

3. Away from the Mire, Billy Strings

4. Birth and Death of the Day, Explosions in the Sky

5. California is too Long, Signal Hill

[30403099]

Steel... 🥺

thank you 😭

[soup-breqd]

Hello my dears! My name is Ahlam Hilles, I ask you to support my campaign to help me reach my goal. I am now in dire need of your support to help my family save them from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip. Gaza is a very dangerous place. I need your financial support to enable me to obtain the basic needs of my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help the family survive their ordeal through your small donations or by sharing my campaign with your friends and others. Thank you very much for standing by those in need.

Hi Ahlam

Ahlam is fundraising to provide for his family's day to day life, as well as fund their journey to safety.

So far he has raised €166/30,000. Please donate and share!!

Link here:

this fundraiser is not yet vetted, but a reverse image search looks legitimate

[koragg1]

A message from the Gaza Strip to our honorable people in the world My name is Abdul Rahman from Gaza.. I lost everything in life.. My wife was martyred and my child and I were injured by a missile that fell on us.. My life was completely destroyed and I was severely injured all over my body, especially my legs.. The missile tore my wife apart while she was carrying our child.. I ask for your support to start my life anew and overcome the tragedy I am going through.. Please help me with any amount, no matter how small, to treat my injury and my child's injury and get out of the Gaza Strip and start a better life.. And spread my campaign and my story so that everyone can see it

Share around and donate if you can!

[giallos]

Hello my dears! My name is Ahlam Hilles, I ask you to support my campaign to help me reach my goal. I am now in dire need of your support to help my family save them from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip. Gaza is a very dangerous place. I need your financial support to enable me to obtain the basic needs of my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help the family survive their ordeal through your small donations or by sharing my campaign with your friends and others. Thank you very much for standing by those in need.

this campaign needs donations!

[paranormeow7]

Hello my dears! My name is Ahlam Hilles, I ask you to support my campaign to help me reach my goal. I am now in dire need of your support to help my family save them from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip. Gaza is a very dangerous place. I need your financial support to enable me to obtain the basic needs of my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help the family survive their ordeal through your small donations or by sharing my campaign with your friends and others. Thank you very much for standing by those in need.

https://gofund.me/afb9edd9

https://gofund.me/afb9edd9

New and low on funds

[simpforrooster]

actually, it’s captain.

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.

t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.

Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.

Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”

You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.

“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.

“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.

And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.

“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.

Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.

But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.

You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.

Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”

Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.

“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.

“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.

“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”

At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.

“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.

Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.

Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”

“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.

You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.

“Yeah?” he murmurs back.

Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.

“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.

Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.

Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.

“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.

“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.

masterlist.

[polarmoon]

How did you come up with the name Signal Hill?

i used google maps a bit at first, looking around the pacific northwest usa and western canada for some inspiration on how to structure the name. i settled on "hill" bc of the terrain i used being surrounded by hills. the "signal" part could've been anything tbh i just played around with words that had vaguely sci-fi connotations until i found one i liked :)

[signalhill-if]

oc asks:

hide for KC and doc? thanks!

KC:

There's not much KC would keep from you, her very special new friend! After all, she's already told you very true stories from her life that aren't embellished at all, and it's not like her entire role in the Lamplighters is to sweet talk people into doing what she wants. Nope, you can definitely trust her 100%.

(All the faction leaders are liars, cheats, and charlatans. KC just does it in a different way.)

Doc:

Doc is the kind of guy who thinks his life should have a purpose and everything he does should serve that purpose. Unfortunately, everyone has needs that can't be fulfilled by such noble pursuits. What he's had to do to make money, and who he's chosen to associate with, it's not something he's proud of. You won't be hearing it from him. But you might get a hint if you take a closer look at that map he gave you!

[randombook4idk]

Hello, I am Muhammad hilles from Gaza. I am 21 years old. I study engineering at Al-Azhar University in the fourth level. My family and I have been displaced for 11 months in a tent without the basic necessities of life. The water is polluted, everyone is exposed to diseases, and there are no clean bathrooms or electricity. My house was bombed and all my childhood memories were gone. Now we are homeless, my university was bombed, and now I can't continue my education and my life. We are 8 people, and I can't imagine my life losing anyone from my family as a result of the barbaric bombing of the Gaza Strip. Throughout the war, we suffer from fear, panic, and all forms of torture and brutality. We also lost the only source of income that supported us. Help me survive this inhumane war and get me and my family out of Gaza.

Every dollar donated will make a difference and will be a glimmer of hope in this path full of humiliation, hunger, and oppression.

€10/€50,000

[wyvernest]

soft s3x and grey sweats

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, tooth rotting fluff, miguel wears grey sweatpants, soft and loving sex, domesticity, unprotected piv

summary: miguel ft. grey sweatpants

A gentle drizzle splatters on the windows of your bedroom, tapping its soft, irregular crystal drops onto the glass only to wake you from your blissful nap.

You had fallen asleep with your head on his chest, invaded by the warmth of his body next to yours, the fascinating feeling of being home with him. You couldn't ever dare to ask for more than that.

With a spine-bending stretch, you step out of the cosiness of the king-sized bed following the realisation of his absence. Leaping down the stairs, you seek the comfort of him being near you like a throat-gripping vice.

You hear the water running, occasionally overlapped by clattering, dishes clanking and drawers being pushed shut.

You step out into the hall of your open-concept kitchen, linen stockings preventing even the subtlest noises of your movements from reaching him through the ambiance.

Your weight on the wooden floor is merely a gust of wind as you sit yourself into the corner of the sofa in order to watch him from up close.

You hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to adapt to the temperature change of the room, your flimsy top and panties doing little in covering your middle.

He hasn't turned to you since you hopped off the stairway. Arrogance tugs at the furthest corner of your mind after having sneaked behind his hyper vigilance, completely unnoticed. You seize the opportunity to study him in the absence of his piercing gaze fixed upon you.

Your eyes linger over the expanse of his broad back, the navy blue, short-sleeved shirt creasing in thin, cascading lines over his shoulder blades as he shifts his weight to his right, bicep bulging when he stretches his hand up into a cupboard.

You're more than delighted to note the easiness with which he attains things normally out of your reach.

Not only once did you call for his help to get you something from any place higher above you, having him stand behind you when doing so, and without fail him making sure to push his groin up against your ass in the process, prompting you to bend just slightly forward onto the board or sink in front of you before the simplest request for aid turned into you, taking him against any surface around the house.

It became quite the signal after a while. Whenever he heard you, 'Miguel! Come here for a second, baby’, his cock would fatten in advance at the sound of the command.

"Should've stayed upstairs, muñeca. I was making something for you." he snaps you out of your reverie, the sleepy raspiness in his voice deliciously running late over the last syllables of his remorseful disfavour.

While still not facing you, it turns out he was well-aware of your presence.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just watch." you excuse yourself, draping your midriff over the armrest, hands supporting your head on the soft cushions as you thaw at the sight of him cooking for you.

He returns to the kitchen island, his index finger mindlessly following the instructions he was mentally revising, before his eyes find you on the couch, scanning every patch of skin you have on display, as if sizing you up for his dessert.

He allows his vision to wash over your silky smooth thighs, your waistline that moulds into the hill of the pillows, the exact same way it moulds so erotically against him when he pistons his hips into yours.

With your pleading gaze inviting, thighs squeezed together in frustration, he is unsure of what to finish next, the pancakes, or you.

Your attention drops to the chubbed, prominent curve of his stiffening cock in his sweatpants, the shade of it nearly obscenely large, evident on the grey fabric. His hand slips down his crotch, lazily palming his dick through the material. You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, yearning growing unbearable.

"I have to let it rest. I'm all yours now." he suggests smugly, and part of you suspects that he had been needing to take you since you decided to flutter your eyes shut on the bed, arms coiled around his waist.

You shamelessly keep your eyes on target as he sets the dough bowl aside, approaching you with a heaviness in his pace that you know oh so well.

His dick twitches ever so slightly in his pants, hardening until its outline becomes lewdly evident, straining upwards into his pants in all its length and girth that ruptures you unforgivingly whenever he stuffs himself inside you.

Before he can even reach the sofa, your eager hands clutch his waist, feeling the rigid muscles underneath his shirt as you start planting gentle kisses down his abdomen, having him shudder at the contact even through the cotton fibre.

Your soft breasts meet his bulge in the process, offering nothing more than a few mere brushes that only rile him up more than he had hoped.

He drops his weight next to you on the cushions as the only way to avoid the urge to pull his cock out and shove it down your throat through your pretty, plush lips. He opts to rest his head back on the pillows, legs spread wide in front of him, taking up nearly all the space next to you.

Not a single moment is wasted before you take his cheeks in your hands, fingertips grazing his rough, barely visible stubble, pressing rushed, obsessive kisses all over his face.

You slide one leg over his, seeking the pressure of his broad, firm thigh to your clothed cunt.

His own hands are quick to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him, your chest flattened on his. His lips find yours through your loving pecks, deepening the kiss he caught you with, swiftly interrupted by a soft gasp of yours the second your ass meets his boner.

You teasingly lower yourself onto him gently, revelling in the feeling of the tip pressing harshly into the thin fabric of your panties.

Letting your hand travel down his firm chest, down his abdomen and over the sizable bulge in his sweatpants, you cup him through the material, applying just enough pressure to coax a groan out of his throat.

His wide thighs involuntarily flex on your sides and he twitches in your hand, a reminder of his force, his size in comparison to you, his ability to have you any time he wanted despite the position, despite your teasing.

His head leans back on the couch exposing his throat, eyes dazed out and fixed on the view of your breasts peeking from under your crop, visibly satisfied with the angle he found. Your boobs, round and soft, ever so inviting for him to knead in his large hands, he thinks.

Warm palms leave your hips to slide up your waist, disappearing under the cotton shirt, idly groping your chest.

You reel at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands on your smooth skin, touching and fondling in all the right places.

His knuckles protrude every now and then through the thin textile as he keeps massaging your breasts, feeling your pulse quicken with each deep breath you take.

Before you can even decide on your next move, you feel the blistering warmth of a splayed out hand on your back, propping you gently as he tilts you to the side, a familiar bow of such a dirty dance that has your thoughts melting out of your brain, your whole existential purpose being resumed to him alone in a matter of seconds.

He lays you down over the length of the couch with such care, such strength that has you submitting mindlessly, wrapping your frail arms around his neck. Legs up in the air, he has you just like he always does. Your blood boils through you, the ignition of nerves only he could ever cause.

He descends upon you, veiling your entire body in his, hands eagerly running over your body, playing you like an instrument that only sings for him, that only he can hold.

You sigh, taking in the scent of him, letting it invade your lungs like inhalants. The visceral musky cologne, with shades of a pine forest that had your thoughts run wild and senses sharpened.

Half lidded eyes accentuate his savagely, crimson irises and dilated pupils, the sheer sight of you under him never ceasing to rile him up bad enough to make him beg for your touch.

You squirm weakly; quickly enough he takes the hint and hooks his thumb around your panties, dragging them down your soft skin, impatience evident in his movements.

You feel the weight of his hard cock on your thigh, head going dizzy at the thought of its girth stretching you open, the thought of the pained groans that crawl out of his throat when he comes, his dick pulsating inside you.

He stills above you, eyes darting over your face, as if searching for something he had just remembered he was missing, a gaze condimented with adoration, curiosity, and a hesitancy you may only interpret as astonishment.

"No puedo creer que seas mía" (”Can't believe you're mine.”) he mutters, barely above a halted whisper, following the realisation of your rather perplexed demeanour when confronted with such antics. ”Makes me think that maybe", he pauses, "pushing through all the shit in my life made me worthy of you.”, he confesses, vulnerable and wounded.

You've caught smudges of this view of his before, only not this categorical. In a way, you find it quite the most heartwarming yet peculiar thing there is to know about him. He seeks the comfort of believing that all the suffering he endured meant something, a sacrificial lamb for him to ultimately earn the limitless love of your embrace, your affections and unwavering devotion.

It wasn’t pride that clawed at his memories of having conquered and survived when so many others didn’t in the same circumstances he faced. It was relief, the relief of a man that swam the ocean to find paradise.

And there you were, silk-smooth, gentle hands cupping his face with such infatuation he did not think possible, looking up at him like there wasn’t anything more beautiful in existence you would rather see.

His heart had inevitably melted into yours; now soldered together against all odds fate could bestow.

”I love you, Miguel. With or without your scars.”, you pull him into a reassuring, promise-sealing kiss, which he softly reciprocates, regaining his confidence and unyielding want.

His lips ghost over your jugular, relishing in the way your exhales halt in your throat, pausing in expectancy as his hot breath excites goosebumps over the satin skin of your exposed neck.

”I love you more.” he teases, lips latching onto your pulse point, lightly sucking hungry kisses down to the valley where your throat meets your shoulder.

Despite knowing how adamant you were about your own love being immeasurable, let alone any lesser than his, he took great joy in dramatically rivalling you on the matter, beclouding your fondness only to start a competition of who manages to sway the other with their words of pure worship and fidelity.

Whether there was another underlying reason for his racing I love you more’s, you do not know. Maybe a reminiscence of his mistrustful, defensive nature, reflecting its last slither of bewilderment into a seemingly innocent insistence that he, indeed, loved you more than you loved him.

How could he not? You had no knowledge of the things he had to do for his job, what it truly meant to risk everything for someone, to risk your life for another.

And he prefers it this way, to have you shielded away from the horror of finding yourself in that situation, from the heartbreak of even imagining the circumstances in which you may decide to give your life for him in all your passion, let alone pondering upon the choice and place the verdict upon your declaration of love, weighing it down in all gravity and seriousness of the pledge. In the depths of his mind, he dreads it, hearing you say, ‘I love you, I would give my life for you’, although he would do so for you without thinking twice.

He dreads knowing that his presence in your life could scar you so that you may have to die for him, that his soul alone could be stained in your blood, even only in hypothesis.

Therefore, he feels far more content thinking that you don’t quite love him as much, thinking that you, as perfect as you are, would not suffer should anything happen to him. That your attachment to him will only ever bring you nothing but joy.

And oh how he brought you joy. Pure bliss and paradisiacal rapture. Even more so when he held you so dearly against him, painting you in doting kisses, marks of which linger on your skin long after he’s departed.

His warm, broad hand sails down over the plushy mound of your breast, indulging in a layover just to squeeze lightly. To drift below; its tender, round shape fitting in the junction between his thumb and index finger; his palm seemingly continuing its travel down your waist before returning unexpectedly, massaging your soft tit after a run down and up your waist, making the butterflies in your belly grow agitatedly.

The meagre shudders of your body underneath his unpredictable and exciting touch, the silent whines that die in your throat as he kisses down the crook of your neck have his cock twitching in his pants, beads of precum gathering on the flushed tip, staining the material. You feel the unmistakable length of it poke your thigh, hard and thick.

"Eres tan buena conmigo" (”You’re so good to me.”) he breathes deeply, voice hoarse with restraint, lacing his words with a poised thread that wraps around your neck, earning him a fractured moan. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

Grabbing onto his massive shoulders for support, delighted with the way his muscles ripple under your soft hands as he continues his attack on your most sensitive spots he knows so well, you press your leg tentatively into his hard-on, an unspoken, considerate request for him to cease the teasing and chase his own pleasure.

“I want you”, you whisper breathily, finding your voice on the last word, accentuating the singularity of your need, the force with which you crave him, only him. “I love you, Miguel, I wanna make you happy.” you declare desperately, planting another suffocating kiss on his slightly agape lips, having him gasp softly into your mouth, a killer whale surfacing above the waterline for a superficial breath before diving back into the depths of the ocean.

He kisses you with such ardour, savouring the addictive taste of your delicate lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth like you hadn’t seen each other for months, like one of those desperate days in which he has his way with you right after he returns from a bone-chilling mission throughout the multiverse.

After ending the kiss with an unnecessarily harsh smooch, he draws back, making you giggle through unrelenting panting. He scans your face, absorbing the image of you, in your most defenceless self, so full of what can only be adoration for him.

He takes in your half-lidded, love-struck eyes, the look he thinks not even the bestest of painters of the world could capture on canvas. The look he thinks would be perverted in blasphemy should it be, even in attempt, recreated on any portrait, any sculpture, any photograph.

He follows the line of your jaw that cascades sharply into the crook of your neck, the only safe place for him to lay his head at night, the place he reveres to place the sweetest of kisses upon, having you either laugh or melt in his arms.

His vision then lands on your sore lips, exhaling the very air he breathes, uttering the same words that echoed in his head out in the field; ‘I love you, truly, entirely and through my whole being. With my body, heart and soul, oh, I love you.’

He dips his head down your waist in reverence, leaving gentle pecks down the line of your stomach. In any other instance, you would giddily chuckle at his ministrations, a chuckle that would soon turn into a hearty burst of laughter, as he knew just the spots to touch and tickle and make you reel in retaliation when play-fighting on a particularly lazy Sunday evening.

However, now, there was no impulse to laugh. You watch him closely as he reaches the crease of your pelvic bone, looking up to meet your gaze.

You feel your face heat up at the sight of him, a strong hand wrapped around your thigh, the other holding your middle.

Satisfied with the moans he successfully drove out of you, breaths getting heavy at the thought of how wet you have to be by now, he sits up on his knees to hurriedly haul his shirt over his head.

His dick grows harder at the familiar picture of you, laid back on the sofa, eyes glazed with drunken want and the remembrance of his feverish touch on you.

Letting your hands roam his chest and firm abdomen while he disposes of the shirt, you curl your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, carefully dragging them down his bulky thighs, eyes widening as his cock springs upwards from the grey fabric, hitting his stomach before ever-so-slightly bending to the right under its generous weight.

You let yourself fall back into the cosy corner of the couch, parting your legs with lascivious speed while watching him stroke his now glistening cock, eyes trained on yours.

A vigorous, bulging forearm anchors next to your head, the other guiding himself inside you. His mountainous shoulders block any view of the room aside from him, and you obey the impulse to run your hands over his biceps, his pecs, his jaw.

You draw in a sharp breath at the contact of his fat tip on your wet folds, rubbing into the dampness at the entrance before breaching you.

You whimper softly, trying to adjust. No matter how many times you have sex, it always takes you time to adapt to his size, to fit him inside you to the hilt.

His forehead rests against yours as he pushes further in, a gentle hand coming to collect a few unruly strands of hair from your face. It stops to cup your fiery, rosy cheek, his thumb grazing your dainty skin protectively, soothingly, before his arm docks symmetrically to the other, beside your head to balance his weight on top of you.

Your tear-welled eyes flutter shut, the dip between your brows deepening and rising into an unspoken plea for a one-second pause. He stops, knowing of your struggles despite your fervent insistences that he may always bottom out regardless of your aches.

He cannot bring himself to cause you discomfort in any way, even under the greenlight of your sincere consent.

“I know, love, I’m sorry.”, he pacifies you, and you’re overwhelmed by his attentive care, starting to rain messy, fatigued kisses over each patch of skin on his face within reach. He returns the gesture in earnest, covering your features in slow smooches.

It calms you, allowing him to push all the way inside your tight cunt, grunting into your temple as you tense around his shaft the moment his tip presses against your cervix.

A loud sigh that swiftly leaves your agape mouth tells him to proceed. His hips start gyrating languidly, his dick exits you only halfway, coated in your juices, before driving back in with a quiet squelch. You throw your head back on the pillows, legs coiled securely around his waist as he makes love to you, laying you onto a cloud of pleasure.

"Ugh, oh-," he groans, his voice deep and rugged, mirroring his own mind-numbing bliss, “you feel so good”. With his head now leaned into your chest, his heavy breaths are hot on your skin, timed with the drive of his hips into yours.

He starts going faster, yet the force of his thrusts still soft. The second he finds the puffy nub of nerves that snaps firecrackers in your lower belly, you grab at the mattress, gasping and moaning weakly. Muted whines are put out in your throat as you close your mouth to swallow a kiss your body had craved to give him.

His shoulders flex under his weight as he picks up more speed, nearing his high and finding the rhythm you know only leads to those desperate grunts that have you coming only from their sound alone.

He pushes into his thrusts, rubbing the coarse hair above the base of his cock on your clit. Your back contorts and arches in response, gifting him an even more delicious angle for the precise rolls of his hips.

You choke on a pained scream that dissolves into your limbs as you come hard, your orgasm washing over you in drumming tidal waves, crashing onto you with every drive of his fat cock into your soft, drenched cunt.

"Oh-- ugh, yeah- so good," he groans into your rose, kiss-marked neck, seemingly taken aback by the force of his own euphoria, as if he had been expecting a gentle current of ecstasy as result of his intendedly soft and gentle session of lovemaking, instead being met a fierce jolt of elation. He stills, holding a breath from erupting out of his throat into a shaky moan.

The bridge of his nose is pressed perfectly into your neck, a sculpture-worthy puzzle of two souls sewn together. His hot palm seeks the feeling of your smooth skin, landing shy of your waist, holding you against him with the firmness of a man who heeds every longing you had ever voiced, who heeds the closeness you had always coveted as you rode the rapids of your orgasm.

The pressure hammers into you in aftershocks, hauling you back down in fading flutters, pulsing into your lower belly as he tenses, pushing his hips flush against your ass with one final blow, releasing into the warmth of your cunt.

You clench faintly at the feeling of his fat cock spasming and twitching inside you, catching on to the last gust of your high.

He groans in oversensitivity, pulling out before carefully placing his broad hand in between your thighs, tenderly cupping your dripping pussy to prevent his come from staining the peppered grey couch. You flinch at the contact, not having fully recovered from the stimulation.

He leans into you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You turn to him instinctively, unable to find your voice or enough strength in your arms to do anything but gaze up at him with the face he knew so well; the euphoria-painted face you grace him with when his love overflows your body, teeming into your watery eyes.

Sitting up, he unpacks a thin, white blanket from the opposite edge of the sofa, cocooning you into the clean, fresh fabric. You hum in comfort, struggling to chase the warmth of his arms as he tucks the edges of the material underneath the contour of your body.

”Just stay here for a bit.”, he whispers into your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “ I‘m almost done with your surprise.”

“You want me to help?” you resort to a last-chance inquiry in hopes of finding an excuse to sit beside him for longer, even in the kitchen.

He knows you’re well-intended, but decides to better value the total credit of his courteous offering.

You will most certainly keep the stakes up and stubbornly get dinner ready for him on the very next occasion you find, so he might as well echo your stubbornness and finish his task alone, meeting great satisfaction in spoiling you with the opportunity your body has given him.

“No te preocupes, (Don't worry.) I’ll manage.”

You dramatically reach for him with your extended arms as he heads towards the kitchen. He throws you a sympathetic smile before resuming his cooking, fully aware that a considerable part of him would have wanted nothing more than to rush back into your arms and spend the rest of the evening smothering you into his warm embrace, play fighting you into submitting to his self-indulgent caresses and kisses.

divider by @cafekitsune

spanish translations by @bookished 🤍(tysm!!)

50% requested by @badbitchhour (ik u wanted a wedding night but my brain short-circuited when i tried to write it, it's still coming tho!!! meanwhile made the very soft and emotional lovemaking part til i get around it and start feeling it)

a/n: don't pick on me for the extremely creative! title i wanted to make shit clear from the start. (clickbaiting)

also smut authors try not to use the same words and phrases for every sex scene without using things like 'wand' and 'shaft' (challenge impossible)

[naburi]

IT’S OKAY, YOU CAN LOOK

NAYEON X READER

TAGS: DOMINANT, EXHIBITIONISM, TEASING, QUICKIE, PUBLIC SEX, CREMPIE

1.2K WORDS

Nervous silence filled the dressing room. You find yourself giving a back massage to the idol. You keep trying to look away from the view that’s distracting you. Your eyes are everywhere but down to see her exposed cleavage. Nayeon noticed this and left a cheeky laugh “it’s okay, you can look.” She says.

You were the youngest member of the staff, thus all the heavy liftings have been passed down to you. From carrying the heaviest bag, to running errands for the team, you're doing it all, being a generous junior of the staff. This time, you were left to assist Nayeon while everyone took a break.

Fingers brushing down her neck and collar bone, Your face is turning red as this is the first time you get to touch the idol. Nayeon finds this amusing and wants to tease you more. She asked you to fix her off-shoulder top. She requested to have it a little lower. You now position yourself in front of the seated idol. Being this close face to face to her is surreal.

You put your fingers on topside of her dress pulling it down a little lower. The dress was tightly kept in place and not moving. You tried to pull it down a little harder but this made your fingers touch the upper boobs of Nayeon. She busted out a loud laugh while looking at your nervous face the whole time. “It’s okay, you can touch them,” Nayeon said in a playful tone.

The both of you knew that dress is not going to move but she still insists. You decided to make the dress loose first to finally bring it down. You asked the idol politely if you can loosen up her dress. Nayeon just stared at you with a smirk on her face. “Do what you gotta do” she said while moving her body forward to give you access to the back of the dress.

You’re loosening the all tight strings on the back not knowing the dress will fall off. You were in shock to get a glimpse of Nayeon's boobs that are now only covered by nipple tapes. You felt eerie as the idol didn’t react to the situation, only keeping her stares at you seeing what you're about to do next. You tried to fix her dress as fast as possible while avoiding eye contact with her due to embarrassment.

The idol is not yet satisfied toying with you. She asked you to give her a foot massage. You were hesitant to do it but you didn’t want to be rude to Nayeon. You sit on the floor in front of the idol. You remove her hills and slowly touch the soft feet in front of you. Nayeon spreads her legs gracefully giving you a sight of her with white undies between her legs. You were to stand up but Nayeon stairs kept you seated on the floor.

The idols move her one hand down their dress reaching for her undies. Her fingers run up and down over her undies, caressing herself. From nervousness, your face now in shock at what the idol is doing in front of you. She moves her fingers inside her undies to touch herself. Her other feet straighten down to reach your crotch, her feet feeling your cock getting harder. She shows her wet fingers and reaches it down in front of your mouth.

Shock turns into lust. You reach her fingers to suck her wet fingers but she pulls it back right in time. Nayeon laughs softly yet seduces “Come closer, taste me.” You move your face closer to her legs, inching closer to her undies. She moves aside her now wet undies to give you the sight of glistening wet slit. Her fingers run slowly to your hair, signaling you to go down to it.

You lick the bottom part of her wet slit moving upward to meet her clit. Your tongue made the idol wimp a little. You first flick her clit continuously to hear the idols moan again. Nayeon pulls your hair to move closer to her slit. You now put your tongue inside her slit moving faster in tune with her moans. This made Nayeon hold your head with two hands.

All the teasing that she’s done now comes back to her. You carefully put two fingers inside her wet slit. You can see her body twitch as you enter her tight walls While flicking her clit simultaneously. You were the youngest staff member but you’re not inexperienced. Your fingers are gaining momentum pumping in and out of her. Her tightness and her wet slit makes a sloppy sound that echoes inside the rooms

Eyes closed and mouth open, all Nayeon can do is moan while her slit is getting stimulated with your finger and tongue. This sight of the idol only made you finger fuck her faster now standing up to position yourself better. Nayeon looks at you with a lustful look, she wants to say something but also knows that she’s about to perform in a few minutes.

She reaches for your crotch, knowing what she wants, you pull out your hard cock for her to touch. She first touched its head, she made sure she touched all parts of your hardened cock. She eyes again at you. She pulls your cock closer to her mouth but can’t put it in due to the risk of ruining her makeup. What Nayeon did is pull her tongue out and give your head a slow licks, she made sure to make your head wet before licking down to your shaft. She carefully licks your cock down to your balls. This made you groan and you felt her mouth give a light chuck.

Nayeon is sitting upright again, on one hand, she’s pleasuring your cock, the other is inside her, fingering herself. Seeing Nayeon getting slutted out like this made you want to put it inside. You both exchanged glances thinking the same thing. You want to fuck Nayeon before she performs.

The slutted idol spread her legs up while you positioned your cock in her entrance. Both of you got alerted by a knock. A production staff gives notice that she’s about to perform in 10 mins. The glances between the two of you knew what needed to be done. You inserted your hard cock on the idol's slit. You both groan after putting all of your cock inside her. She nods signaling she’s ready to take the pounding.

You put your dick in and out of her with a controlled phase. You don’t want to fuck her fast as it might ruin her outfit. You controllably thrusting inside her making sure to hit it hard when you put all of it. She tried to put her hand in her mouth but it would just ruin her lipstick. Your cock is making her moan loud, she know that if she continue to get fuck like this, her moans and grew even loader. All Nayeon can do is to whimper as she’s trying to contain her moan.

“Cum inside me,” “I want to perform with your hot cum flowing onto me.” That is all you need to hear before giving Nayeon the creampie that she wants. You heard knocks coming from your other staff coming back from their break.

Every comment on the internet is praising Nayeon's performance. They notice how slutty the idol is not knowing what transpires before her performance.