@the1ongcon
❛ no ones here. we can be as loud as we want. ❜
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘁 — 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗲𝘀𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱 as mira muffles each and every sound connor effortlessly elicits out of her pretty lips.
that includes pretty sighs, mewls, squeals — a symphony composed by &&. for him only ; something inaudible for everyone else, reserved to be exclusive to his ears.
cocky fucker—
teary - eyed with bleached blonde hair sprawled around her head like halo, it's almost impossible to consider this angel - like persona of flushed cheeks and arched back to be a cold - hearted bitch by day. and yet, after they're done, she'll be back to hating him ; being disgusted by his sole presence.
mira shakes her head. in no way she'll award connor with anything other than the sounds she cannot control but can deafen by biting her hand. not only he doesn't deserve that, but the others — the others — shall not be deceived by the needy whimpers that the lead scientist with a heart of stone lets out. besides, what would they think about them? that mira likes connor? gross.
but oh when he holds her like this &&. makes her melt and molds her to his liking and— and— !!
chipped black nails dig deeper into connor's arms, crescent moons imprinted on his skin like a deed of ownership ; a mark of him belonging to mira even if right now it feels different, like someone other than her is in control. the glance of usually bottomless pupils glimmers with tears gathering underneath her lashline, threatening to spill every second now ; it seeks reassurance, warmth, a confirmation and approval of incoming—
no, impossible — to keep it down whilst being controlled by his fingertips &&. she holds onto him to ground herself as her mind goes blank &&. every fiber of her being trembles in anticipation.
❝ f— fuck you, ❞ is all she can utter angirly, hating how connor (and connor only) can make her feel.
