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#is this what a drabble is?
backonefish · 2 years
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Happy 40th Sebastian!
This is a highly self-indulgent thing, that popped into my head when I found out Sebastian’s 40th birthday plans. 
___
When the clock struck midnight on the new year, all Sebastian could think was, "Fuck, I’m turning 40 this year."
Not a second has gone by since without him reminding his closest friends. Lamenting the fact that his back aches more, hangovers are note the same, and he's getting old.
He's only partially serious about the complaining. He's actually quite proud of everything he's achieved over the past 40 years, the wisdom that comes with age, the new heights of his career. He’s proud of his of himself and who he's chosen to surround himself with.
Speaking off - Sebastian lifts his head from where it’s cradled on his arms as he lounges in the pool, looking out onto the sea - the lights of the house are on, casting shadowy silhouettes behind closed doors. His friends had left him with strict instructions to stay away and he's only too happy to oblige, welcoming the reprieve after a ridiculously busy year.
He still wonders how he got so lucky in the friend jackpot; friends who took on planning a Greek getaway when he'd floated an idea to the boys a few months ago.
He picks his phone up from the edge of the pool.
11:55.
Five more minutes till he's 40. Fuck, he's old. The grey in his beard emphasizes that. The wrinkles around his eyes. The twinge in his right thumb when he’s on the phone for too long.
11:58.
Its fitting he's turning 40 in Greece. He's in the same time zone in which he was born. Its symbolic somehow: he’s come full circle and not cheating time.
He doesn’t get a chance to look at his phone again, his friends beating the clock when they emerge from the house, loud and obnoxious, singing, "Happy birthday to youuuuu." They’re carrying a ridiculously large cake that sends him laughing and he knows its midnight.  
He lifts himself out of the pool and laughs harder at the fire on top of the cake.
"How many candles?" He manages to choke out.
"Forty," Chace answers, proudly. “I counted.”
That means there’s probably forty-three or thirty-nine candles, but Sebastian’s too happy to care, taking in a deep breath before he leans over the cake.
"Don't forget to make a wish!" Toby yells and then Sebastian blows with all his might. He gets them all, except for one.
He thinks back to his still dark phone, closes his eyes, and blows out the last candle.
---
As birthdays go, its one of the bests. He wakes up to brilliant blue skies, even bluer waters, a yacht waiting to take the group out to sea, and a phone full of messages, notifications, and voice notes.
He takes his time basking in the love and takes even longer talking to his mom. He knows she knows how much he loves her, for not only bringing him into the world but also for raising him and all the sacrifices she's made. If he's 40, that means his mother is getting older and he has every right to be sentimental, to get teary eyed as he listens to her accented declarations of love. When he tries to return the sentiments, she tuts and tells him to go off with his friends.
He checks his phone once more after he hangs up, frowning slightly at a distinctly absent name in his notifications. He shrugs it off: its still early in Boston, there's plenty of time.
He tells himself the same thing when they’re done breakfast, and again when they get on the yacht, and his phone is still missing that one birthday greeting he was looking forward to.
He's 40; his birthday is not dependent on one birthday wish.
---
The trip out on the yacht is incredible. He feels eternal, endless; caught between the sky above and the water around. His friends ply him with wine and pull him into the sea. When he’s sufficiently tanned and tired, he climbs back on board, shaking the water from his hair and licking the salt from his lips.
His phone screen is blank. No notifications at all.
Maybe the reception is bad.
"Expecting something?" Will smirks.
"Huh?" Sebastian is dragged from his thoughts to his friends looking at him with varying untrustworthy smiles that leave him narrowing his eyes. "No - I -" he fumbles with his words which is so rare with this group that he promptly shuts up.
---
When they make it back to the property, the sun is low in the sky and a heavy wooden table is set out by the pool, covered in delicate plates, rich candles, and too many forks for Sebastian to know what to do with.
He looks at his friends and Chace shrugs. "You're forty. Embrace the maturity and the class."
"He will never have class," Toby cackles as he slaps Sebastian's back and beelines it to the shower.
Sebastian seconds that idea, heading to the ensuite in his room. He washes away the salt and sun that have embedded into his skin. He can’t believe his birthday is nearly done, the anticipation and build up of the last few weeks, leading to hours that have just slipped away.
Good hours. Great, even.
Except.
When he steps out to style his hair and dress in a flowy, white, button down and pants, the sun is even lower, the sky beginning to smudge with pink and purple.
His phone has a few more notifications. But still not the one he was looking for.
As a punishment for the thought, he leaves it on his bed, heading out to dinner to catch the last few rays of his birthday.
Only.
When he steps out, there’s a distinctive set of shoulders, biceps, and ass standing against the setting sun. The sight makes Sebastian freeze in his tracks.
The mild chatter comes to a halt when the door shuts behind Sebastian and everyone turns to face him. He spares his friends a glance, making a note to discuss their shit-eating grins on their faces, but his attention is quickly brought back to that one smile that always makes time stand still.
"What - " Sebastian attempts, taking a tentative step closer. He can't say anything else, replaying late night conversations that had gotten longer and sweeter the past year, whispered hints of something more, promises of things to come, and making it impossible to ignore the growing feelings.
"My flight was delayed. I thought I wouldn’t make it, but - I’m here. Sorry I missed last night and well - most of today." He steps toward Sebastian, away from the group.
"But you had plans - with your family - you -" Sebastian knows he’s gaping, must look like an idiot. But he was expecting a text, a phone call if he’s being honest - not for him to show up in person.
"Chris," he says weakly, incredulously.
"Happy 40th, Seb," Chris says and then he’s engulfed in those arms, and Sebastian doesn’t need to pinch himself, because he’s not dreaming.
This is real.
Chris is really here, holding him, his nose tucked into Sebastian’s neck.
When Chris pulls back, its barely an inch, but its too much distance, much too soon, and Sebastian’s hands tighten their hold on Chris’ shirt as he looks into blue that’s more stunning than the sea or the sky.
Chris is staring back with a mirroring intensity before he says, "Fuck, you’re beautiful," and then the hand in Sebastian’s hair flexes and there’s no longer any distance between them because he's being kissed.
Warm and soft, expert lips prying open his own; hot, wet tongue sliding against his and Sebastian moans, pressing in closer, yearning to feel the solid length of Chris against him.
When they draw apart, gasping for breath, only then does Sebastian hear the hollers and cheers from his friends, Chace's distinctive voice yelling ‘fucking finally,’ and he breaks into a giddy laugh.
Judging by the brilliant red on Chris' face, deeper in the golden hour - he suspects Chris had forgotten their audience too.
"Sorry, I had envisioned us being in private when that happened, but you look so good and its your birthday -" he breaks off when Sebastian runs his nose along Chris.’
He says with a smile, "I think you should wish me again."
And Chris does, mouth eagerly finding Sebastian's, claiming it in a hungry kiss, that’s harder, deeper, hotter.
This – this - is the best birthday gift. Kissing Chris against a vibrant Greek sky, surrounded by his closest friends, and the smell of salt in the air.
Its surreal, its beautiful, its 40 and he thinks - the best is yet to come.
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moechies · 1 month
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toji 𝓍 bunnie ૮ ˃̵ ˂̵ აㅤㅤㅤ
toji who grabs his little bunnie gf by the scuff of her tail to pull her onto him.
“bunny, come sit on it.”
“ouuuch ! toji, stop it! hurts..!”
“heh, sorry bunny. c’mere.”
it happens so quickly. you had just been sprawled across the sheets, playing on your phone before you were rudely interrupted by a desperate old man, in need of some assistance.
“sit on my cock, honey. w’na feel you.”
“y-you’re so crude , toji .” you frown, but in no way do you take your time tugging off his pants. his cock springs up almost immediately , the hard shaft slapping against his tummy causing a blunt noise.
“s’ hard toji . .”
your mouth waters at the sight, holding the fat girth in the small of your hand. your hands don’t fully wrap around him, nearly an inch left of cock that gapes in between your fingers. his digits reach to pull the crotch of your panties aside, quickly pulling you directly above him, making you hover over his cock head.
“mm,” he hums, “don’t make me do it all , work yourself on it doll.” he teases, coming up to tug at your fluffy ear.
“s-stop it !” you whine, making him laugh. it’s hard to work him with no prep, the sloppy tip of his cock immediately stretching the fat folds of your cunt. it burns , but you’re soothed over by the sweet circles rubbed into your skin to pace you.
“t-too hard, why’re s’hard . . mmf—“
“y’were swayin’ yer ass all over the place. how could i not be, bunny? don’t be so naive.” he grunts, watching intently as his pudgy tip slides in and out of your chubby walls.
“i wasn’t, toji ! y-you’re such a perv!”
he laughs breathily , hoisting you above his cock before slamming you down completely. you scream and thrash at the unpreparing stretch, round tail fluttering as hairs on your fluffy ears stand.
“oh, bun.”
his fingers sneak behind your butt to fidget and tug on the fur of your tail once again, but this time, you’re too lost in a haze to pay it any mind,
“that, i am.”
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sukunasweetheart · 19 days
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idk something about trueform sukuna bothering his angry and weepy wife. hes been making too many teasing remarks for the day and youve had enough. he drags you onto his lap and mockingly asks you "what's wrong, my love? throwing another tantrum?" and your frown gets deeper, and you attempt to push his face away, trying to get that shit eating smirk of his out of your sight, along with his four eyes that narrow at you in amusement, clearly having his fun with your tears and moodiness.
your wrist gets easily bound by his stupidly large hand. stupid! you start squirming, trying to get out of his grasp, and he chuckles, knowing that you can't. not that you truly want him to just let go of you, anyway. you're angry, and yet you can't help but want his attention to be on you.
sukuna watches you eventually stop squirming around, because you know that you'd only tire yourself out. "well, did you get everything out of your system?" the satirical question fires you up again, but you just decide to ignore him, looking away from his eyes.
"you're so annoying..." you chide him, clearly still upset, still angry. you don't want to cry but the tears sting your eyes and you can't stop the ache in your throat. he cradles you and grins like a cheshire cat. "oh, don't look so sullen. acting like a spoiled princess." you hate how he speaks to you condescendingly, knowing that it gets on your nerves.
"i hate you. leave me be," you scowl, fighting off all four arms of his, but they only wrap around you tighter. sukuna smirks with a softer look in his eyes, wishing he could squeeze you harder without hurting you. "hate, hm? just who're you trying to fool?" he croons at you, wiping the tears off your face with one hand.
you start resisting a little less, and he observes those small cracks forming in your defiant attitude with glee. "look at you. becoming pliant with my touch." your anger has been exhausted, and now you're in the mood to be loved... just a little bit. you refuse to smile, but your body relaxes.
"yes... relent yourself to me," sukuna murmurs, before his searing lips reach your jawline.
he likes to bother you, but appeasing you is equally as entertaining.
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laurasimonsdaughter · 6 months
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Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!
The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.
“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.
The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”
“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.
“Then I bring the cheese here.”
“Yes.”
“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”
“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.
“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”
A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”
“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”
“No,” she said flatly.
It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.
“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”
“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”
“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”
The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.
“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”
The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”
“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”
This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.
“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”
A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.
“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”
The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.
“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”
“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.
“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”
In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.
“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”
She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”
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nkogneatho · 2 months
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when you first met itadori jin, you thought he was so sweet and kind. he was always a little nerdy when he talked about things he loved. "sorry i got carried away" was something he'd often say because he thought he was bothersome. but you never thought that. you liked when his eyes lit up at the silliest science theories. you loved that he was so considerate.
but you know what they say?? nerds are the kinkiest people. when you told jin you want him to fuck you, he turned red. but you had to say it out loud because he wouldn't. he respected you. that, until he had you bent over the couch. you'd never thought he'd be so rough. but that is the thing. he was so unconscious about it. his silly science addicted brain inspected your hole and he knew you'd be able to take it with a little stretching. his large hands were on your back, pushing you further into couch. you had to turn your face to the side to make sure you don't suffocate against the cushion.
"shhh don't move, my dear. i am doing this f'you." his cock was buried deep inside but he wasn't moving. "didn't you say you wanted to do it? i need to make sure you don't get hurt in the process—ahhh fuck don't squeeze me, darling." you couldn't help it. your cunt ached for his thrusts. "i am sorry my dick is too big for you baby. but i am a good boyfriend, right? mmm shit...'n good boyfriends always give their pretty girlfriend what she asks for." he collected your wetness with his fingers and licked them. "mhmm fhuck sweetheart. knew this pretty pussy was sweet the way she was throbbing when i was inspecting her. go on, lovie...tell her to make more juices for your kind boyfriend." jin wasn't even aware how dirty the thing he was saying sounds. he just thought it was normal. he finally thrusted once and you cried out his name, unexpecting the sudden jolt. "feels good, right?" you moaned out a yes. "of course it feels good. now..." he grabbed your waist, "time to marry your pussy with my cock, darling."
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months
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ring pop proposal ♡
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fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.
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the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.
soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as your parents agree.
you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.
“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.
mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.
she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.
he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.
you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.
“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.
“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”
“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.
katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.
“gave her one of these !”
“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”
katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.
“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.
she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.
she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.
mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.
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ribbonprincess · 3 months
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.
"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."
He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.
"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."
Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.
꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦
As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"
Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.
"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.
"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."
Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"
Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."
Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"
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losersiren · 2 months
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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭
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"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o
The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.
You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 
“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.
The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.
What a bastard
“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.
”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”
His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.
He should’ve fought harder for you.
People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.
 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 
“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.
The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.
The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.
“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.
You’re so close
“I forgive you…I forgive you…”
“I forgive you, Ambrose…”
Oh…
His name on your tongue….
His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.
“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”
.." Or shall I beg more?"
End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)
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zephyrchama · 2 months
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Paper cuts come when you least expect them. You thought it was pathetic that a mature human such as yourself couldn't even flip a page without slicing their skin open, but old Devildom books were made of the worst paper. Super thin, and sharp like a blade when touched at the wrong angle.
The small distraction sucked you out of the novel you were reading and back into reality. You shut the book and shook your hand, waiting for the pain to run its course. These actions did not go unnoticed.
"Let me see your hand," Satan murmured. He was suddenly looming over your armchair and gently cupping your fingers.
"It's not bad, don't worry." You were more concerned about the book's pages. Satan's collection had a lot of rare and expensive tomes. The novel in your lap looked fine, but how angry would Satan get if a drop of blood spilled onto it? He might not verbally assault you like he would others, but you feared he'd sulk about it for at least a few weeks.
Satan pulled a square cloth from his back pocket. He paused to stare at it. It looked fine. Maybe a little wrinkled, but nothing that should have made him frown. "My handkerchief is dirty."
He roughly shoved it back into the pocket and instead lifted the hem of his shirt, then lightly blotted at your wound with the still-warm fabric.
"Hey! Nooo, that's just going to make your clothes harder to clean later." You went to jerk your arm back, but Satan's gentle hold turned into an iron grip. Those abs weren't just for show. "It's gonna stain! Knock it off. I can lick it or something."
"Oh, good idea." Satan's shirt slid back down as he dropped it and knelt. He rested his elbows on the seat cushion, one on either side of your legs.
"I can do it! I can do it!" You tried to stop him, but he was already seductively dragging his tongue over your fingertip. "Don't even thi-- ahhh, Satan come on!"
There was far more blood rushing through your face than in the tiny little cut. It astounded you how Satan could pull off an embarrassing action so smoothly, without hesitation.
"Are you done yet?" You didn't know if it had been five seconds or five minutes, but you thought it was long enough.
"Mmh." He mercifully stopped, giving your palm a quick peck. "Move over."
The armchair was meant for one, but it was big and cushy. If you scooted to the side it could probably fit two. "Why?"
Satan was already climbing into the space next to you, raising you onto his legs. "I'm gonna make sure it doesn't happen again. I'll read to you."
He leaned back into the chair, pulling you along with him, and curled an arm around your waist to reach the novel. "So, which page were you on?"
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tojisun · 8 months
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the first time that biker!simon suggested that he drives you around on his bike, you were terrified to the point of declining his offer.
“i can’t,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater, your lips downturned in genuine disappointment. “‘m sorry.”
you couldn’t meet his eyes, nervous that perhaps you’ve made him upset, but simon just took your hands on his – your small palms fitting snuggly against his gloved ones – and squeezed gently.
“you don’t have to apologize for anything, sweetheart,” simon replied, pulling you close until you were forced to tilt your head up to finally meet his gaze. you rove your eyes over his features, taking in the dimple of his cheeks as he gave you a smile, all boyish and breathtaking.
“don’t worry about it, yeah?” he asked before wrapping you in an embrace after seeing your hesitant nod.
he’s right, you know that. you shouldn’t have worried about it at all, but simon had always loved his bike. had always loved the thrill of the ride; the way the wind whipped against his skin or how the sounds of the road are intensified even with his helmet. you knew it was an irreplaceable experience so of course you truly couldn’t let go of his request.
it sat there on your mind every time he picked you up in his car, his harley tucked in the garage for the day. it curled around the crevices of your heart whenever simon kissed your temple before going out for a night ride with the boys.
“take care, okay?” you would say.
“always,” he would reply, kissing you on the lips again as though sealing his promise before pulling his helmet on and hopping onto his bike. he’d kiss the edges of his gloved knuckles where your initials lay then drive off.
it sat there in the pit of your stomach until one friday afternoon, you tugged onto his sleeve and whispered, “can i hitch a ride?”
the smile on simon’s lips was blinding and you couldn’t help the swoop of giddiness that filled you up when he snatched you from you stood, lifting you up before twirling you around the room.
“you sure you want this?” he asks now, blinking down at you as you fiddle with the zippers of your leather jacket. you look at simon, watching as he twirls your helmet in his hands, and even through his balaclava you can see how his face is pinched in doubt.
(you still can’t believe how simon had stowed away your very own helmet, murmuring how he got it as a valentines gift but decided to hide it when he saw just how hesitant you were when he made the offer.
“i was scared that if you saw i got you y’r own helmet, you would’ve felt pressured to agree to ride with me,” simon whispered, rubbing a thumb at the visor before shooting you a small smile. “stop pouting, love. i know you well, after all.”)
“never surer,” you say with a giggle before showing yourself off to him.
simon hums appreciatively, beautiful eyes narrowing in muted desire. “should see you in leather more, sweet girl. look how beautiful you are.”
you playfully swat at his arm in your embarrassment before standing still when simon lifts the helmet in his hands with a quiet beckoning. you let him fit it on you, your hair gathered in one of his hands and the other gently sliding the helmet on your head. all throughout, you watch the way his eyes crinkle in delight, his touch so reverent, and it makes you choke on the intensity of your love for this beautiful man.
he taps at the top of your visor when he is done, then he is stepping away to prep himself for the ride.
“c’mere, sweetheart,” he says when he is done. “y’got nothin’ to worry about, not w’me here.”
his words burn you, filling you up with encompassing warmth that tickles your cheeks and dips into your neck. you giggle as you shake off the last of your nerves before stepping close, hovering beside his harley, waiting for his instructions.
it wasn’t long or complicated by any chance, but you can see simon’s cautiousness shining through and that eases up your own worries.
there are things for you to remember, he says, things that would ensure your safety and his. and you take him seriously, nodding when he points at his bike and tells you where to prop your feet up, where to sit, where to hold. then, he holds your hands and says that you call all the shots; that if you want to stop, to squeeze his shoulder three times and he’s pulling over.
“this is all about you havin’ fun so don’t push y’rself, alright baby?” simon murmurs, ending his tirade.
then, he takes you for that promised ride.
you two planned to go to the park, just somewhere that’s far enough from your place but still within the expansive stretch of the city road’s smooth asphalt. he asked if you would’ve preferred the beach, but that was a two hour ride and you truly couldn’t handle anything that long. when you told him so, he laughed and kissed the top of your head and said, “then i’ve got the perfect place for you.”
the purr of the machine between your legs is unusual, if not a little bit weird. your grip on simon’s waist must be painful but you don’t have it in you to loosen up, especially not when the speed kicks up to match the traffic. you bite down a squeal when he makes a turn towards the highway, your stomach flipping when you physically feel the bike leaning to your side, almost like it’d fall anytime soon.
of course it doesn’t because simon’s a damn good driver but the adrenaline is coursing through you in waves, surprisingly dousing the fires of your anxiety and replacing it instead with a pooling elation because this feels so fucking good.
you don’t even realize that your hands have loosened their hold onto simon, gripping just enough not to fall. you lift your head from where it’s pressed on his back, tilting just enough to see past his bulk and to take in the dizzying colours of the trickling dawn. the wind is cool even with your jacket, and even though your helmet and visor is obscuring your nose, you take a deep inhale.
fuck. you might just get addicted to this.
the next time that simon swerves to exit the highway, you no longer bite down your squeal, letting it instead rumble from your throat and into the air. simon’s shoulders shake and you realize that he’s laughing, high from your reaction. you couldn’t help it but giggles flutter from your lips, full of the thrill of this experience.
the park comes to view soon and you pout, wanting to keep the drive going. but simon pulls over, parks, and only when the engine stops do you feel the numbness spreading through your legs.
“you doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” simon asks, remaining seated, unable to stand with you still holding onto him.
“mhmm!” you reply. “i can’t stand up though.”
he barks out a laugh. “oh yeah. that might take a while.” he reaches behind him to rub at the sides of your thighs, massaging whatever he can reach.
you hum, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “s’fine. ‘m not rushing.” you nuzzle your helmet on his back, falling into silence as you feel yourself unravel from the short experience. you breathe in deeply, the air fogging your visor, and say, “i loved that, si. thank you so much.”
simon’s hold on your thighs gain strength, squeezing gently. “of course, sweetheart.” you hear the happiness in his voice, breathless from his own rush of dopamine. “thank you for trusting me.”
“always, baby,” you reply, squeezing him again, muffling your giggles when you heard his surprised wheeze at the action. “i’ll always trust you.”
(ext.01) (ext.03) // mlist!
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heavenbarnes · 1 month
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I’m thinking about older bf Simon in some grey sweatpants after shower. Smelling nice and clean, warm and cosy on the couch. And the print of his flaccid cock is visible through the sweatpants 😵‍💫
fuuuuuck FUCK fresh and clean simon about to make me ACT UP 🫶🏼
it was standard for your older bf!simon to shower with the bathroom door open.
you’d queried it, leaning in the door frame watching him struggle to fit under the shower head, slightly obscured by the condensation on the glass.
“need t’keep an ear out, can’t hear y’when it’s shut”
and you never questioned it again. it was filed away with simon’s hatred for noise cancelling headphones and sleeping when you were awake.
it goes hand in hand with “i always know where you are”
so simon showers with the bathroom door open and you don’t complain.
hard to, when you can lay back on your bed and smell the wafting steam with his body wash hinted in it.
when you can turn your head and catch glimpses of the way the water ricochets off his toned body.
when it’s also an open invitation, if you ever wished to join him- he’d welcome you with open arms.
but it also meant, when you were on the couch watching something mindless- you could hear the water shutting off. knowing it meant that any minute-
simon enters the living room with water still dripping off the ends of his cropped hair. bare chested and glistening a little from a rough towel dry.
his hands are still pulling up his sweatpants, grey- the soft ones that feel nice under your cheek when your head is in his lap.
you can tell he’s not got anything under them, you can tell by the visible print that sits just over his left thigh. the one you’re trying your damndest not to fixate on.
simon slots in next to you on the couch, wrapping you up in his arms so you’re pressed to his chest. he smells like adidas after-sport, citrus and musk and inherently man.
you could bury your face in him.
he’s warm, relaxed, content and it’s the moment where you’re melting into one another a little- fitting perfectly together.
“we’re not watching this rubbish”
he breaks the comfortable silence, reaching over you for the remote- he’s been really into cooking shows lately.
and you’re just really into him, letting him commandeer the tv so he can catch up on his kitchen nightmares.
you think you fall asleep to the dulcet tones of gordon ramsay, but it’s probably more the heartbeat under your ear and the firm hand tracing circles on your back.
that’ll do it.
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aeyumicore · 4 months
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☾ .⭒˚ heartstring symphony ♡ xavier x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: xavier x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf (so so so sooo many feelings like a whole ocean of feelings) 
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.1k (oh lawd)
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, tiny reference/spoiler to chapter 4 of the main story (grandma and caleb), references to xavier/overall lads lore, first time sex (not virginity loss), explicit sexual content, pure pure filth but also so fluffy and emotional, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving and m!receiving), lots of making out, pussy job, finger fucking, tongue fucking, cum as lube, references to xavier’s evol, slight use of y/n, switch!xavier, slight predator/prey play, somewhat vanilla
⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommending watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://youtu.be/U-OanLwbSVE?si=Um0NFib7gQOTGrLq
☾ .⭒˚ a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY BABIESSSSS COME GET YOUR FOOD. oof this one is a doozy. based off the memory ‘heartstring symphony’ with xavier, there’s a lot of small changes to the progression and the dialogue, but its largely on par with the original memory! there’s a lot of ‘plot’ building as this memory is a bit long and i really wanted to incorporate parts from the beginning, middle, and end so i ended up needing to write for the entire thing. the build up is kinda important to the smut but you can definitely still just skip to the smut (ya filthy hoes)!!
100% dedicated to my bestie who is the downest baddest bitch for xavier!
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾
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The sunlight bounces off the sheen of the strawberries that are finally ripening enough to eat. It’d been months since Xavier and you had started your quaint little rooftop garden atop his balcony, and your collective dedicated gardening was finally rewarded with the most beautiful crimson strawberries you’d ever seen. Having been tasked with tending to his house plants on his sudden trip away, you found yourself spending a lot of time with the strawberries on Xavier’s apartment’s balcony. 
"But even though you’re bearing fruit, your owner isn’t here,” you murmur sadly, stroking the slightly sticky skin of the berries. Okay sure, you were undoubtedly projecting your own feelings onto the poor little strawberries, but who could blame you? It’d been ten days since Xavier had suddenly left town and similarly ten days since he’d responded to any of your text messages or returned any phone calls. 
And dammit, you missed him. Missed his deep groggy voice when he’d pick up your phone calls at 11 am asking if he’d had breakfast yet, his bewildered face when you’d barge into his apartment demanding that he take you to play crane games, the way he’d pretend not to notice when you swapped hands during kitty cards. Ever since you’d first met the enigmatic hunter in the abandoned protocore research base on your first mission as an official hunter, you found both your night and day dreams being filled with the thought of him. 
You’d even missed him enough to send a few regrettable late night texts, confessing just that. At 4am. You groaned inwardly at the embarrassment of recalling your deleted messages. Really, no one should be allowed to send any text messages after 1am. Least of all you, who had so many confusing unresolved feelings for the silver haired man in question.
The sound of keys jingling a door open snaps you out of your thoughts. Your heart pounded, he was finally home! Excitedly, you scrambled back into Xavier’s apartment, to be met with the sight of him struggling to remove his uniform top. The sight of his sculpted torso on display before you like an absolute art piece, had you freezing in your tracks, cheeks heating at the glorious site before you. Xavier also froze, his cerulean eyes locking with yours in surprise.
"You’re…here?” His voice was as warm as you'd remembered, the sound of it forever etched in your mind. But it sounded too soft, tired. Exhausted even. 
"Y-yeah…the weather was good today and I wanted to check on the strawberries,” you attempted to remain calm and collected, turning around to stop from staring at his exposed stomach. But the plethora of injuries on his pale skin caught your eye. Instantly, you were at his side, inspecting him and assessing his scars. 
“...You got hurt?!” Your heart hammered anxiously in your chest as you reached to touch him. He peered down at you guiltily, pulling his top back down to cover the scars. He gently pried your hands away from his abdomen, letting his fingers linger on your skin far longer than he’d needed to, the touch not going unnoticed by you.
"It’s nothing, let me go get changed,” Xavier finally released your wrists and left you to wait on the couch for him. You felt on edge, waiting impatiently, feet tapping anxiously against the carpet. Xavier finally reemerges from his room in a fresh set of indoor clothes, a ribbed white long sleeve and gray sweatpant joggers. You’d seen him in this exact outfit many times, but suddenly the way his sweatpants sat against his lap made your mind wander, but you shake the filthy thoughts out of your head. When he finally sits down next to you, you can’t help but fret over him, grabbing his arm to inspect his complexion. 
"You went missing, and now you return all beaten up…why do you always make me worry?” You reprimanded, pouting slightly, "You’re wounded aren't you? Does it hurt?” Your fingers ghost over the bruises on his forearm, the veins there protruding slightly amongst the bulging muscles. Xavier only turns away, unwilling to meet your gaze, but still leaving his arm in your lap.
His refusal to answer only makes you more desperate for reassurance that he’s alright. You try to lift his shirt, but he uses his free hand to grip your wrist, stopping you. You don’t notice the way he blushes at your touch.
"It’s nothing, just some minor scrapes.” While the mere sound of his voice does wonders to soothe your swimming mind, it does nothing to quell the anxiety you have over his well being. Over where he’d been these last ten days. With not so much as a single text message to let you know he was okay, safe. That’s all you had wanted, to know he was safe.
"I think your definition of scrape and my definition differ greatly,” you mutter sulkily, trying to get him to meet your eyes. When he doesn’t, you take his face in your two hands, forcing him to level with you. His cheeks tinge a peachy red under your palms, his normally slow and controlled breath rapidly increasing at your touch. 
"If your wounds aren’t treated they could get worse, get infected, and even become life-threatening,” you murmur, almost threatening him, unable to stop the worry from lacing into your words. You can tell he feels guilty, his eyes opting to stare at your shoulder instead of your eyes, “...this is nothing. I’m used to letting them heal without much thought.” 
This does nothing to make you feel better, if anything it makes you feel worse, and you’re unwilling to relent, "The past is the past. This is the present.”
His eyes finally peer into your own, meeting your stubborn gaze. His deep blue orbs are intense, searching for something within your own. While his voice is deep, tired, undoubtedly exhausted, you can still sense the longing heat in them. He sighs, finally caving into your whims, "Alright. So, what do you want me to do?”
And so you find yourself in Xavier’s dimly lit living room, a first aid kit on your lap, and Xavier shirtless in front of you. You try to ignore the fact that he’s very much half naked in front of you, his joggers sitting dangerously low on his waist. So much so that you can definitely see the indentation of his obliques forming a tight ‘v’. It was enough to turn your brain into mush, but you fought those intrusive thoughts away so you could tend to his injuries. 
Taking a deep breath to try and calm your raging nerves, you start, "Is there a spot that hurts the most? Or is really sensitive? I’ll try to be extra gentle when I apply the ointment.” Your eyes linger on the way his collar bones frame the muscles on his chest, the skin there pure and untouched from the dark bruises forming on Xavier’s shoulder and abs. You bite your lip to withhold the shiver threatening to overtake you at the image of Xavier in all his muscular glory before you. His gentle voice brings you out of your filthy reverie.
"My neck.”
"Hmm?” Your eyes snap to his, cheeks flaming when you realize he’d caught you staring. He smiles gently, but thankfully doesn’t tease you.
 "The most sensitive part of my body is my neck,” he says again, his words almost threatening to make you unleash the shiver you were holding back. Refusing to let your mind wander more, you lean forward and begin carefully cleaning the wound that’s etched onto the muscles that connect his shoulders to his neck. While you wipe the cut with one hand, you use your other hand to rub comforting circles around the red skin surrounding it, hoping to ease the stinging. 
Xavier groans, his voice husky and drawn out. You can’t help but wonder what that sound would feel like under a different circumstance, but repress those thoughts deep deep down. 
"Does it hurt a lot?” You keep your eyes glued to the irritated skin, lightening the pressure at which you’re pressing down, not wanting him to feel any semblance of pain, ever.
"Kind of.” Xavier’s response is clouded in ambiguity, leaving you confused as to what he wants to say. Before you can press him further he speaks again, "I appreciate you looking after things while I was gone.” 
You sigh at his persistent nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just up and disappeared and come back beaten and bruised. You knew him well enough to know he’s not planning on telling you what had happened to injure him like this or why he had to leave town in the first place.
Feeling childish, you decide two can play at that game, "You don’t need to thank me. Neighbors should always look out for each other.” You force down the inexplicable emotions stirring inside of you that threaten to spill into your voice, continuing to tend to the cuts on his neck. 
He doesn’t respond and the room becomes suffocatingly quiet. Swapping the alcohol wipe for the ointment, you briefly peer up to find Xavier staring at you with his intense blue eyes. You stubbornly refuse to waver from his stare, but he remains silent.
"What? If you have something to say, say it,” you demand, a bit snappishly, unable to contain the hurt you felt at his repeated silence, both now but also on his days away. 
Xavier remains gentle even at your abrasiveness, "You’re really close to me. All I can do is look at you.” Despite yourself, you blush at his words, chest tightening. He keeps his eyes on yours and you can’t help but squirm under his emotion clouded blue eyes, though you couldn’t decipher exactly which emotion swam through them. 
The silence envelopes the air once more as you refuse to speak. Xavier speaks up again, his voice low and almost sad, "Are you angry with me?”
Your heart cracks at the vulnerability in his voice, but you can’t seem to let go of your own peeved feelings, "Why would I be? We’re just acquaintances who happen to be neighbors.” You know you’re being unfair, but you can’t help but feel as if you deserve some kind of explanation. You cared about him, far more than he probably knew, and he just up and disappeared without a trace for ten days. And to top it all off, he came back looking like this.
"Are the other neighbors like us?” Though his words are simple, you can’t help but wonder if Xavier is intending to say something else under the veil of those words. 
No, you supposed to yourself, other neighbors probably did not feel the least bit in the way you felt for Xavier. Your hands tremble at the thoughts you can’t seem to push away, and you accidentally press a bit too deeply as you apply the ointment. Xavier winces, his eyes finally unfocussing from yours and his brows furrowed in discomfort. 
Instantly you feel bad for being even the least bit annoyed with him. Your voice is much gentler now, almost apologetic, "Was I too rough? You're…does it hurt a lot?”
Xavier smiles reassuringly at you, so warm and gentle despite your attitude and the undeniable pain of his injuries, your stomach can’t help but flutter at him, "Sort of, but I'm alright.” 
"That’s good,” is all you can sheepishly say as you find yourself lost in his expression. 
"Maybe the pain is so intense that I can’t feel anything,” Xavier is smiling so you know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel incredibly guilty.
"Really? I didn’t mean to…”
The look he gives you is enough to shut you up. Though he doesn’t say anything, his facial expression makes you wonder what exactly is going on in his mind. Finally he speaks up, "It’s okay. I forgive you, and in exchange you’re not allowed to be angry at me anymore.”
"I told you that I wasn’t angry,” you sigh, "Stay still. I’m going to apply the bandage.” Xavier smiles and nods, straightening his posture obediently. You want to tease him, but instead diligently apply a bit of gauze to his neck and adhere it with some medical tape.
Satisfied with your handiwork, you smile smugly, "All done. Keep your wounds away from water and avoid eating spicy food for the next few days.” Xavier mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and when you look at him his head is bowed down so low you can’t even see his eyes. Before you know it, he’s collapsing in your arms, completely passed out. 
"X-Xavier?!” You catch him easily, but his unconscious weight holds you down. Xavier only murmurs groggily at your words. You can’t help but smile and rub his bare back adoringly. His skin is soft, and warm to the touch. You relish in the feel of his skin against yours and his presence enveloping you, having truly missed him so much. 
"Poor baby,” you sigh, contemplating on how you’ll be able to carry him to his bed. 
With great effort, you’re able to haul Xavier to his bedroom. As you bend down to lay him on his mattress, you trip over his feet. With his arms tangled in yours like a little koala holding on for dear like, you tumble onto the bed with him. You flop onto his mattress, and his arms tighten around you, locking you in place, tucked into his chest. You move to push him off you, but instead you accidentally graze his wrapped neck.
Xavier moans, still deep in sleep, and his lip pouts as he grips you even tighter. You sigh in defeat at how content he looks with his arms wrapped around you, with his bottom lip sticking out slightly. You can’t help but admire Xavier’s sleeping face, his long eyelashes tickling against your cheek. It’s not long before you find yourself being lulled to sleep by the warmth of his strong arms and the slow beating of his heart against yours. 
You awaken to Xavier tucking you into his blanket, his movements gentle as to not wake you. Your breath hitches but you do your best to pretend to still be sleeping, unable to face him in this compromising situation. With any luck, Xavier would get out of bed and you could pretend to wake up when he wasn’t so intimidatingly close to you. 
But instead of getting up, Xavier only lays back down beside you, nuzzling into your side. Your heart races at the affection, biting your lip to keep from making any noise. His body heat against your own threatens to unleash a shiver of satisfaction across your body, but you force it back so as to not alert him that you are in fact awake. 
Xavier is so unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning against your exposed neck and his fingers stroking your palm. Unable to withstand the suffocating tension, you pretend to wake up, feigning a yawn as you flutter your eyes open. You come face to face with Xavier, his eyes, still groggy with sleep, analyzing your every movement. His gaze falls lower, seemingly watching your lips part with the steady inhale and exhale of your bated breath.
You squirm, trying to dissipate the tension, remembering to keep your voice groggy, "Are you still tired? It’s not morning anymore, so maybe we should start thinking about what to eat.”
"You’re resting on my arm. I can’t move. At all.” You jolt upwards, and Xavier retracts his arm, rubbing the tender muscles, no doubt they’d fallen asleep, up and down. You hid your blush underneath your hair, unsure of what to do next. You became hyper aware of the fact that you sat in Xavier’s bed, with him. And he was so very shirtless. 
Luckily Xavier speaks so you don’t have to, "I saw your texts from yesterday saying you were having trouble falling asleep. Did you sleep well?”
"It was pretty good,” you answered earnestly, genuinely feeling more well rested than you had in weeks, but then your heart stuttered, "W-wait, you saw the message I deleted yesterday?!” 
"Yeah, I did. But I'm pretty sure it was a small peek,” his gentle smile changes to one of a teasing grin, "Xavier, if you don’t respond, I'm going to eat all the strawberries. All of them.” He raises the octave in his voice to mock you. To say you’re mortified would be an extreme understatement.
Trying to deflect from the fact that he’d in fact seen your embarrassing late night texts, you counter, "But I didn’t. I saved you a small bowl!”
He continues, deadset on his mission to embarrass the hell out of you, his grin radiant enough to stop your heart. Which you might actually prefer to the sheer embarrassment of being called out like this, "The moment I think about you being somewhere else annoys me to the point where I can’t sleep at all.” 
You feel like a deer caught in the headlights, utterly defensive, "Well, of course! You can’t just ask someone to look after your stuff and then ghost them. If that’s not being unreasonable then I don’t know what is!” 
Xavier glances at you, his voice calm but his eyes holding inexplicable emotions that you cannot decipher, "Oh, and there's one text that I can't forget.” You hold your breath, already knowing which one it is. Undoubtedly the worst, most incriminating one of them all.  
"I think I miss you.” Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hands and fall back against the bed. Xavier laughs, propping up on his side to face you, his fingers brushing some stray strands of hair away from your cheek, hooking them behind your ear.  
“...you saw every message!” You accused, peeking at him through the cracks of your fingers still covering your eyes. But did not respond to any of them, you want to add, but hold yourself back.  
His expression is that of pure innocence, "I was going to reply to them, but then I got caught up in something. And you deleted them a second later. I could only pretend that I didn’t see anything.” And then slowly, almost painfully, he adds, "Maybe those messages weren't meant for me.” 
Despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t possibly let Xavier think those thoughts were for anyone but him. The flicker of dejection in his eyes is enough to have you spilling out the truth, “...okay, I didn’t send them to the wrong person!” Your cheeks burn and you’re sure you look just as red as one of the strawberries on the balcony. You prop up on your own side to face him, "I missed you. But that’s not the point!” Your lips jut out to pout at him, feeling like an attention-seeking toddler that had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 
Xavier, the relief and longing palpable in his eyes, reaches his free arm out to cup your cheek in his palm, "And I missed you too.” His voice is low, nothing more than a whisper, making your breath catch in your throat. 
His thumb brushes across the corner of your lip, "Unbearably so.” His intimate touch literally rewires your brain, making you throw all inhibitions out the window. The tidal wave of emotions you’d had on a tight leash, floods through the dam. Unable to control yourself, you firmly push him down on the bed and straddle him, making sure to avoid any of the bruises on his abdomen.  
"Why did you leave me?!” You whine, surprising Xavier and even yourself with your assertiveness. He rests his hands atop your thighs, as they cage him beneath you. His body is warm under your own, and you feel the heat manifesting in your gut at the intimate closeness of your bodies. 
His surprised expression is quickly replaced with one of cool and calm, despite the fact that you were literally on top of him like he’d secretly imagined several times before, "Why are you so worried about me?”
“...When there are bad people and wanderers out there, of course I'll be worried about you,” your voice softens at the very thought. The emotions coursing through you make your voice waver, no matter how hard you try to steel yourself.  
Xavier smiles warmly at you, his hands wandering upwards to your waist and then to your lower back. You’re acutely aware of his hands on you and it causes your confidence to tremor, your stomach bubbling in anticipation at his touch.  
"And yet, you’re way more dangerous than any wanderer could be,” his voice is throaty, tinged with need and desire and his eyes find your lips once more.   
"This is different. I would never hurt you,” you counter, your hands resting against his broad chest. Confidence returning ever so slightly, you dust your fingers against his delicate skin. You come close to his nipples, but narrowly and intentionally miss them. Xavier’s hands on your back grip harder, not enough to hurt but enough to leave you breathless and wanting more. You can feel him squirm beneath you, eyes pleading with yours. For what, you’re unsure. 
"Yes, but I don’t have the strength to resist you at the moment.” Xavier’s voice is nothing more than a whisper, has hands digging further into the sensitive skin of your lower back. You writhe on top of him, to which he lets out a faint moan, just barely audible in the crackling air around you. 
Your voice is but a rasping murmur, as you throw caution to the wind, giving into all the inexplicable emotions your heart held for the man beneath you. At your mercy, "Then…don’t.” 
At your words, Xavier pushes you down towards him with the hands he had on your back. You offer no resistance, fully letting him guide your face to his own. And like you’d day dreamed so many times before, Xavier takes your lips into his. Softly, reverently, but so hungrily. 
Your fingers entangle in his pale locks, gripping gently as his lips mold perfectly against yours. You sigh into his mouth as your breaths merge together. You breathe him in, basking in his radiance, all around you. Xavier’s hands leave your back to hold the plush of your thighs, kneading softly but so possessively. Your thighs clench around his hard torso, and you can’t help but rock yourself into him until you are resting on his lap, on his crotch. His hands tighten on your thighs, the grip a clear message, a wordless command for you to behave. 
His tongue caresses your lips, a silent request for entry. You obediently part them, allowing him access to every part of you. When his tongue ghosts against yours for the very first time, you moan so deep and pleadingly that you can feel Xavier’s smile against your lips. His hands wander up and down your back again mapping out all the ridges of your spine against your thin shirt.  
You’d imagined kissing Xavier for the first time, many many times, but none of those silly little daydreams could amount to this. Your imagination paled in comparison to the real thing, so willing, pliant, and tender underneath you. Ready to do anything to serve you. 
You finally pull away, gasping for air but only craving his breath against yours again, you can’t help but ask meekly, "Is this okay?”  
You can see the answer in Xavier’s eyes, but he responds still, "More than okay. Is it okay for you?”  
Breathlessly, you trail your thumb across his bottom lip and mirror his words, "More than okay.” You’re suddenly hit with the reminder of just how much Xavier had you worrying these past few days. Feeling mischievous, you stare down at him, face flushed pink and lips swollen with saliva. Your fingers trail down his cheek, careful not to touch his sensitive neck, and onto his chest, "I should teach you a lesson so you never make me worry like that again.” 
Between his breathless pants, he’s intrigued, “...what do you want?” His hands flit to the waistband of your pants, playing with the material and letting his fingers brush against the skin of your waist. You hold back a tremble, and instead of answering him, you decide to just show him. Dragging your fingers across his muscular chest, you let your thumbs brush against his hardening nipples. Xavier’s sharp inhale is immediate and you feel him clench his hands against your hips. You lean your face down to trail a path of small kisses down his chest, over his bruises, all the way to his naval.  
You can feel him trembling beneath your every touch as he grinds out, "Is this my punishment?” His hand reaches up to weave his fingers through your hair, collecting the pieces that fall to your eyes as you bend down to kiss his skin.  
Grinning, you sit back up, taking his cheeks in between your fingers and squish. You can never help but to tease Xavier, his adorable reactions always leaving you wanting more. You release his face from your hold, only for him to mirror your actions right back at you. His fingers are delectably rough as they grip your chin. 
"I can do that too. Like this.” His face is so full of amusement, making you want to retaliate further. So you let your hands wander back up his chest, slowly moving to wrap around his neck. You see Xavier’s eyes widen in surprise as your fingers delicately tickle the sides of his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath them. As your nails flicker across the sensitive skin of his neck, Xavier lets out a groan that sounds suspiciously like a whimper.  
"Ahh, please,” he whines. You notice that his hands have slipped under your shirt now, but not venturing upwards, ever the gentleman. 
You giggle at his vulnerability, "You’re injured and don’t know how to take care of yourself,” you hand ventures from Xavier’s neck to hold his face in between your fingers again, "You’re like a helpless animal about to be eaten.” Your voice is a teasing coo, and you bend down slowly, torturously grinding your core along his crotch. He hisses again, fingers digging into your bare skin as if hoping to slow you down. But instead, you lean into the crook of where his neck meets his shoulder, on the side that’s uninjured, and press a barely there kiss into the skin. Even at the faintest touch along his neck, Xavier groans and presses his lower half harder into you. To stop your own moans, and maintain the upper hand, you bite into Xavier’s neck. He swears and his fingers crush into your sides, and you squeal into his neck but your lips stay latched.  
His skin is so sweet between the gentle teasing of your teeth, his pheromones invading all your senses. As you suckle on the sensitive skin there, you continue to rock your lower half against him, pleasantly surprised at the feel of his bulging erection against you. Your filthy day dreams of him paled in comparison to the sheer girth of what sat beneath you now. 
"You’re not worried about me – hah, retaliating?” But you ignore him, instead relishing in the sound of his pants in response to your touch. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine Xavier would be this reactive. 
He continues his delectable moans at your ear, "H-hah, fuck – w-wait. Love please,” your core clenches at the endearment and you detach yourself from Xavier’s neck, a flushed bruise starting to form where your lips previously sat. Xavier hardens further at your disheveled sight. Lips red, swollen, and shiny with saliva, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red, eyes hazy with lust. He was fighting from coming undone at the sight alone.  
"Wh-what? Is this not okay?” You pause, worrying you had crossed a boundary, but you can’t help the gentle and uncontrollable tremors your core makes against his crotch, almost like the aftershock of an earthquake. He groans in response, his head falling back deeper into the pillow as his eyes clenched shut. 
His big hands squeeze your thighs reassuringly, and his right palm reaches up to cup your cheek. You lean into his touch, savoring the feel of his warm and protective hand against your flushed cheek. He repeats his words from earlier, "It’s more than okay. You don’t know how long I've waited to have you like this.” His words are filled with a vast expanse of emotions, but one you can make out is indescribable and utter love. Like he’d been waiting an eternity for you to fall into place in his life.  
His hands trails down to play with the buttons on your top, fingers grazing the exposed skin on your chest. You shiver as he says, "But I want — I need to savor this moment with you.”  
In that moment you think about the way your heart has always throbbed at the thought of Xavier. You think you’ve loved him for a while, it always felt like your life was destined to intertwine with his, in unexplainable ways. You’d long given up on fate, especially after caleb and grandma. But looking at the azure eyed man beneath you, you couldn’t help but think that that very fate had brought you two here today. So when you intertwine your fingers with his hand that toys with unbuttoning your top and bring your joined palms up against your heart, you don’t hesitate to confess, "You have me, forever.”  
At your declaration, the expression on Xavier’s face is a haze of inexplicable emotions. With the faintest sliver of hesitation and something that sounds an awful like sorrow he finally murmurs, "And you’ve had me, forever.” 
Unable to withstand the intensity of his longing stare and the weight of his words, you dip back down to capture his lips with yours, returning his heavy words with an equally passionate kiss. Your hands move to stroke up and down his naked chest, before landing on his neck, using your thumb to feel the thrumming of his unusually erratic pulse. With your free hand you encourage his fingers that fiddle with the buttons of your blouse, urging him to undo the confines. You can tell Xavier is holding back, likely doing his best to tread the fine line between careful respect for you and losing all control.
Reluctantly, you withdraw from him, whispering through your gasps, "Xavier…please. I want this. I want you.” 
His eyes are misted with lust and adoration, his body stiffening even further. His voice is as deep as you’ve ever heard it, "Are you sure Y/N? You have to be sure. I-I'm scared I won’t be able to stop.”  
Softly, you use your fingers to trace over the hickey you’ve left behind on his neck. His breath catches and you can see the control slipping from his grasp. Slowly, you bring your fingers to unbutton your blouse yourself. Painfully slow, each finger taking its time to unlatch each enclosure, and you murmur, "I won’t want you to stop.” 
His eyes are locked on you, as you slip the blouse off your shoulders, leaving you in your white satin bra. His jaw tightens at the sight of you and he grabs your thighs, "Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And with those words, Xavier’s thick arms are lifting you into the air and throwing you gently underneath him. In a flash, his heavy body is on top of yours, your legs parted to accommodate his unbelievably built stature. You squeal in surprise at his dominance, the sound cutting through the thick sexual tension in the air. Xavier smiles down at you, the dangerous glint in his eyes making heat flare between your legs. The slick forming in between your folds is unmistakable and you bite your lip to keep the moans at bay.  
"Am I still a helpless animal? Since you seem to know everything, you should enlighten me.” The deep purr in his voice edges on a primal growl, like a predator with its prey between its claws. It’s enough to have you submitting to his every whim. How quickly Xavier has turned the tables on you, his hand now gently pressed against your own neck, has rendered you a stuttering dripping mess. 
"X-Xavier…” 
But he silences you, placing his index finger over your lips, his other hand moving downwards to stroke the soft satin of your bra, his fingers flitting dangerously close to the skin of the swell of your breasts, "When faced with a hunter that knows my weakness and how to take advantage of them, is there anything I can do?” You’ve never heard Xavier so threateningly dominating, so demanding. It leaves you utterly speechless, your previous upper hand gone completely.  
"Perhaps I should teach you a lesson.” 
You shudder at his words. His hands reach under your back to unhook your bra and you arch off the bed to allow him to slip it off effortlessly. Fully exposed before him, Xavier’s eyes burn with such intense heat it intimidates you, so you instinctively cover your breasts. Xavier doesn’t speak, instead dipping his head down to trail delicate kisses along your arms, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. Your breath comes out in shallow pants as he gently pries your arms away, and presses an open mouthed kiss to the swell atop your right breast.  
You shiver uncontrollably under his warm lips, needing more friction, "P-please Xavier.” 
Xavier’s wide grin is uncontainable, "Look who’s the helpless animal now?” But despite his teasing, Xavier indulges your pleas, capturing your nipple in his warm and waiting mouth. You’re unable to stop the gasp that tumbles out of your lips, your body arching off the bed only to be met with Xavier’s heavy body pressing you back down. Xavier’s muffled moans against your sensitive skin send your eyes into the back of your skull. As the pleasure threatens to overtake your melting mind, you press your dampening crotch into his erection even further trying to gain more friction. He groans, deep and hoarse, making you peer down at your chest and at him. Your eyes meet. 
The eye contact as he devours you is enough for your climax to start creeping in, your hand wedging between the two of you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants. Your hands are met with the alarming dampness of his pre cum seeping through the gray fabric that frames his bulging erection. You bite your lip at the sheer mass you hold in your hands, your fingers tracing just how thick he was.  
Xavier’s tongue continues to flick along your nipple as your hand slowly makes its way under his waistband and under his boxer briefs. With his pubic hair tickling your palm, you brush your fingers against his thick erection. Your touch earns your breast a harsh nip which causes you to cry out. The pleasure and pain is so blinding you find yourself needing to grip onto his cock just to keep succumbing to your impending orgasm, rooting you to reality. 
"H-hah, Y/N, please…ah, not so tight please,” Xavier’s voice is a desperate whine, as he pants against the swell of your breast. At his urging you release his manhood from your grip ever so slightly, but keep it trapped in your palm, your hand has a mind of its own, unable to stop from stroking his length up and down, brushing against the single bulging vein alongside it. He leaks so much pre cum that it feels like he’s already pumped his release all over himself. You collect it all, using it to fist his cock in your hands while he ravages your breasts.
"You’re, hah, making me ruin my pants love,” Xavier pants against you, descending upon your body until you’re forced to release him, much to your dismay. He slots his lips in the valley of your breasts, leaving a trail of wet kisses slowly down your body. When he reaches your belly button, his hands reach to remove your pants and panties in one fell swoop. The cold air nips at your exposed core, as Xavier removes the tangle of clothing from your limbs  
Completely exposed before him, Xavier rakes his eyes all over your bare body, admiring every inch of you and breathes out a single word, "Beautiful.” You blush under his gaze and you clasp your thighs tight in an attempt to hide but Xavier keeps your legs open, his grip tight on your knees. With his eyes locked on yours, he guides your calves onto his shoulders, careful to avoid his bandages. You feel nervous as he comes face to face with your undoubtedly soaking cunt, and to your utter embarrassment he notices it too.
"You’re so wet already. Is this all for me?” While his words are teasing, his tone is earnest, almost in awe.
 "W-wait Xavier, you’re injured. I don’t want you to strain yourself. L-let me–”  
His eyebrows arch at you, "You said I should stay away from spicy foods, you never said anything about this. Let me enjoy myself.” Without letting you protest any further, he lowers his face onto your waiting cunt, his mouth unbelievably warm against your own burning core. You cry out, your back arching to the point it feels as if it may snap. With your legs on Xavier’s shoulders, your lower half is elevated nearly a foot off the bed, his hands on your thighs supporting your entire body. 
Xavier’s tongue is fervent and attentive. He explores every inch of you, mapping out which areas make you sing with the most pleasure. His tongue alternates between dipping in and out of your entrance and caressing your clit while his hands move to prop you up by your ass. As he feasts on you, his hands knead the fat of your rear. 
"X-Xavier please. So so s’good,” you wail, hands digging deep into his comforter, wishing your hands could reach his hair, his face, anything. Your clit feels like it might explode in pure ecstasy under Xavier’s tongue, making you unable to control your mouth. Your words make him harden impossibly more, still restrained in his soaked sweatpants. He groans into your core, the vibrations intensifying your pleasure. You can feel your orgasm racing towards you, which makes your thighs tremble around his face. Suddenly, he stops and lifts his head. You whine at the loss of his tongue and the disruption of your climax, almost collapsing into the bed if it wasn’t for his strong arms supporting you. 
"Can I put a finger in?” His eyes are pleading, as if he’s worried you might deny him. 
Your head bobs eagerly, and you have to hold yourself back from telling him he can literally do whatever he pleases with you, "God, yes. Just don’t stop, please.” 
"You’re so adorable when you beg for me,” he grins as his lips find your clit once more as he eases not one but two fingers into your waiting hole. Your moans fill the room at being so suddenly and pleasantly filled to the brim, your eyes rolling into your brain. Xavier’s pace leaves nothing to be desired, his movement producing absolutely filthy noises to mix with the sounds of your moans. You can feel him scissoring his fingers in and out, stretching you out against his soaking hands. 
"You’re so tight even around just my fingers…” he trails off in wonder, pondering how he’d possibly fit himself inside you, if you’d allow him. 
"M’s-sorry,” you pant against his ministrations stretching you to the fullest you’ve ever felt, "Xavier, th-think I might cum soon.”  
Your words fuel him further, the squelching sounds music to his ears. The pleasure is endless and you’re starting to see white. Without stopping his fingers, he murmurs against your clit, "Please give it to me. Cum for me, love. I need it.”  
Combined with his expert fingers weaving in and out of you, his demand sends your hurtling through your orgasm. Your thighs threaten to crush his skull as they tremble uncontrollably on his shoulders. You release all over his face, his mouth still latched onto you, gushing into his waiting mouth as you chant his name like a prayer. He replaces his fingers with his tongue, giving your aching clit a much needed break while still working you through your fierce orgasm. You softly scream in response to this warm tongue inside of you, shuddering through the final waves of your orgasm while Xavier laps up all of your release, not letting even a single drop be wasted. 
As your body heaves, Xavier removes himself from your thighs, softly setting you down against the bed. He murmurs, "You taste so good. Better than I ever imagined.”
His words fuel you with confidence, and you feel the irresistible urge to return all the pleasure Xavier just gave you. Your thighs are absolute jelly, but you crawl to your knees to face him. Taking his face into your hands, you lean in so your lips are millimeters apart and whisper, "My turn please.”  
Xavier’s eyes smolder, and he lets himself be pushed down backwards onto the bed, with you slotting between his thighs like he’d done to you. Feeling confident from the aftermath of your orgasm, you lean down and kiss his bulge through his soaked sweatpants. He hisses, as his hands cup the back of his head on the pillow. His reactions only serve to embolden you further, and you lick a strip down his pants, relishing in the salty taste of his pre cum on your tongue. Unable to wait further, you pull his joggers and undergarments down together, and his cock springs free. Your confidence wavers as you’re met with Xavier in all his glory. He was unbelievably thick, and the vein you’d felt earlier bulged deliciously against the pale pink skin. You unconsciously lick your lips at the challenge before you, taking him into both your hands and sinking down to lap up the pearly white beads that had formed on his tip, threatening to spill over. 
Xavier lets out a guttural groan, his hands leaving his head to thread through your hair. He whines as you take his tip into your mouth, gripping your hair gently. The salty, yet surprisingly sweet, taste invades your mouth as you struggle to accommodate his girth in between your lips. Determined to please him, you bob down deeper as your tongue lathers the sides of his cock attentively.  
"H-hah shit.” Xavier is a grunting mess beneath you, "My – ahh – beautiful girl. You’re doing so, fuck, s’good.” He hits the back of your throat, tears streaming down your face. You bob slowly, your jaw aching already as you do your best to take him. With your hands you stroke the parts of him that aren’t in your mouth.  
Xavier’s hands in your hair are slowly guiding your head up and down, encouraging you take him a bit faster. You gag against him, his moans letting you know how much he enjoys your throat closing around his length. While his thickness threatens to split your jaw, you can’t help but enjoy how he feels inside your mouth, an endless dribble of pre cum your reward for taking him so well. After a few minutes of this, Xavier’s hands tighten in your hair. 
"S-stop.” You peer up at him through your wet eyelashes. Hes propped up on his elbows now, staring at you with an intensity that excites you to your core.  
"I...I need to be inside you. Is that okay?” He asks, but it feels more like a command. More than willing to indulge him, you lick the stray beads of pre cum that had found their way onto your lips, and you get on your knees so you can seat yourself on top of him. Using your soaked slit, you grind on his saliva and pre cum slicked erection, whimpering while it catches on your clit, still sensitive from his tongue. 
Xavier massages your thighs soothingly, his smile is as radiant as ever, "Don’t worry love. Take your time. I’m yours to use however you’d like.” His words fuel your pulsating cunt, and you continue to grind on him, letting his tip ghost along your entrance, but not allowing him in. Your teasing drives him to the edge of madness and you love seeing his undoing all over his facial expression. The friction combined with his reactions to you are enough to have your second orgasm building in your stomach. The mixture of your arousals lets him glide so easily in and out of your thighs between your leaking slit.  
You’ve definitely never tried this before, but the anticipation of using just your pussy lips to pleasure the both of you is so exciting. The sounds of your combined slick so lewd against both your bodies. His cock so close to just entering your waiting hole and devouring you whole. It’s all enough to have you cumming again right then and there, but you know the next time you finish you need it to be with him stuffed deep inside you. 
"So big Xavier…don’t know if it’ll fit..” You whine, not daring to halt your movements across his cock.
"It will baby, I'll make sure it fits.” You shiver at his words and finally, you allow yourself to sink down onto him. You wail at the impossible stretch, much more than his two fingers. Honestly you’d wished he would’ve used four fingers as that might’ve prepped you better, more accurate to what was stuffed inside you now.
Your thighs tremble as you’re able to take his head fully in. The stretch is uncomfortable, but you’re wet enough where there’s as little resistance as physically possible. Xavier throws his head back and pants out words of encouragement, hands kneading into your thighs. 
"Y’you’re so fucking tight it feels like you’re trying to snap it off,” he grits, eyes glued to where your body connects with his. You lower yourself steadily, and you finally seat yourself fully, his cock pulsing excitedly inside you. You gasp for air taking a second to situate yourself before you can even think of moving again. Xavier is no better under you, sweat forming on his forehead from the pleasure alone, his chest heaving up and down rhythmically.
"M’gonna move now, ‘kay?” You warn him breathlessly, surprised your brain is even able to still form words.
Xavier is equally fucked out, begging shamelessly, "Please. Need to feel you.” Though Xavier is the one pleading underneath you, you’re not a fool. Ever the wolf in sheep’s clothing, you know he is the one in control of the situation, even if you’re the one setting the pace on top of him.
His pleas are enough to get your thighs moving, rocking up and down, back and forth. You squeeze your eyes shut, falling forward so your clit can catch on the thick muscles alove his pubic bone. Xavier’s hands on your thighs inch up to your waist to better guide you along as your pelvis rhythmically gyrates back and forth to better feel him against your clit and inside you. 
"Hah, I've always loved it when you take control on missions. So pretty – shit – f’me, using my cock like this,” Xavier pants, holding onto your body for dear life.
The pleasure of his words swims straight to your head, and you can feel your brain turning to mush as you use Xavier’s cock to pleasure yourself in ways you’d never dreamed of feeling. You can vaguely hear his endless grunts and whines of encouragement as your heart pounds in your ears. The earth shattering orgasm creeping up on you builds monumentally, much more intense than the one that’d already ravaged your body. 
Xavier’s breathy cries snap you back into the present, "Sh-shit slow down. If you don’t–hah– slow down m’gonna–” he cuts himself off, swearing as he feels you tighten even further around him. As if needing something to hold onto to steel himself, he uses one hand to grasp your breast, squeezing forcefully. You yelp at the painful ecstasy, your steady pace faltering and giving both of you a second to slow down your impending orgasms. 
Not giving him too much time to recover, you begin rocking again, slowly, torturously, and passionately, unable to stop yourself from chasing the pleasure only he can give you. Your hand is planted on his abs to steady yourself. Xavier’s eyes lock onto your joined crotches, mesmerized by the motions you make that are akin to the ocean waves pulling in and out of the beach. You pulsate around him wildly and he throbs inside you rhythmically, your bodies meshing perfectly.
As your head is thrown back, your eyes once again inching into your skull, Xavier thumbs at your clit. You squeal and contract at the waves of pleasure he induces onto your body with a single touch.
Xavier swears inexplicably at your vice grip on his length, knowing your body is pushing him rapidly towards his finish. Your slow and intentional bounces have him seeing stars, but he needs more. Keeping his thumb steadily drawing circles in your aching bundle of nerves, he uses his other hand to grip your waist and guide you along, faster and harder. 
His eyes admire your naked beauty on top of him, he pants out, "S’perfect, Y/N. You’re beautiful you know that?” 
At his words, you’re a faltering moaning mess as the rhythm Xavier sets has his tip hitting deep in your gummy walls, stroking your sweetest spots at every thrust. At this point Xavier’s hand does much of the work, your thighs threatening to give out as the only thing your brain can focus on is the pure pleasure of his cock reaching the most sensitive spots right before your cervix.
You’re reaching a point of no return, unable to stop your babbling mess, "X-Xavier you’re s’deep, s’big. Splitting me open.” You can feel the mixture of slick against the underside of your thighs, smearing against his pelvis as your bodies slap against each other. 
"Baby you’re making such a mess…hah..fuck is this all for me?” 
You whine at his words, "S’all for you Xavier..m’all yours.” Thighs still burning as you do your best to bounce on him, you grip your breasts with your hands as Xavier uses you like a toy. He seems to know exactly where your g spot is, and he hits it every single time, almost as if he knows your body far better than even you. You’re coming impossibly close to your climax, but you can’t fathom this moment between you two ending.
"Come here,” Xavier whispers desperately, "Let me taste you.” With his hands still shoved between your bodies, playing with your clit, you bend down towards him and let him take your lips into his once more. His soft lips are urgent as they take you, and you can almost feel a lifetime of emotions Xavier has kept from you. You respond with the same desperation, wanting to show him how much he has invaded your very being. Your body, your mind, your heart and soul. It all felt hopelessly intertwined with Xavier, and you couldn’t fight it. You didn’t want to fight it. 
His tongue, cock, and fingers ravage you in perfect unison. The blinding tension in your gut threatens to boil over, and you try to warn him, "X-Xav, can’t take much more.” 
"You’re doing so good for me, Y/N. I can–f-fuck–feel how close you are. Please, cum for me,” he pants, his breath mingling with yours. Doing your best to maintain your rhythm amidst the climax that descends upon you like a tsunami, you sink your lips into Xavier’s neck, careful to avoid his cuts. The moan that he responds with is a deep guttural warning. That he’s as close to coming undone as you are. 
With renewed vigor you bounce atop Xavier, absolutely needing to hear him fall apart for you. You spear yourself onto his ever hardening and throbbing erection as his thumb on your clit sends you into oblivion. The bone crushing orgasm descends upon you, and you bite down on Xavier’s pulsing neck. You let out a string of incoherent babbles right by his ear,  and he eats up every single cry you make for him. The tsunami consumes you, manifesting in uncontrollable waves of tremors around Xavier’s leaking cock inside you. Wailing through your orgasm, right into his ear, Xavier takes you into his arms completely and bounces you violently on top of him, desperately chasing his own release. 
"Fffuck, you’re milking me Y/N,” Xavier groans through gritted teeth, "Makin’ a mess all over my bed.”
You alternate between nibbles and soothing licks against his neck, feeling how he swelled inside you at his sensitive neck being ravaged. You could tell Xavier was impossibly close, feeling his heartbeat throb in his cock as he speared your overstimulated core onto him with every ounce of fleeting energy he had left. 
Exhausted and completely fucked out, you murmur into his ear, "Xavier, please. I-Inside. Make me yours.” You plant a gentle wet kiss on the deep red bruise you’d etched into his neck. It resembles the strawberries you’d grown together on the balcony.
Xavier’s deep and incomprehensible swears ensue, "You’re mine. Say it Y/N, please.” His thrusts are erratic now, losing himself to the pleasure of your body perfectly wrapped around him.
You squeeze your eyes shut, suckling gently on the hickies you’ve littered across his pale neck, "M’yours Xavier, now and always. 
Your words send him toppling over the edge, letting out a strangled groan as you feel him release deep inside your cunt, pumping his release as deep as it will go. It’s unbelievably soothing, the warm milky seed relieving some of the ache in your throbbing hole from his intense ravishing.
Despite the overstimulation, Xavier continues to thrust lazily in and out of you, wanting to keep every drop of his spend sealed inside you, as deep as it will possibly go. It makes him wince, but he can’t bear the thought of any of it being wasted when it belongs inside you. But you tap his pecs pointedly, still laying completely naked and soaked on top of him, and whine, "S’too sensitive Xavier.”
He chuckles and brings your face to his, this time pressing a slow and sensual kiss to your lips. You close your eyes, enjoying the feel of his soft lips against yours, your bodies connected in more places than one. With your head still on his broad and muscular chest, you relish in the slowing and soft thumps of his calming heartbeat, absolutely content and blissed out. Xavier strokes your hair with one hand, his fingers massaging your scalp, and his other hand rests tightly on the small of your back. As if he’s scared you might disappear at any moment.
Inevitably, his softening member threatens to slip out, but you’re much to fucked out to be able to move a single muscle. Xavier shuffles gently, and you feel him lifting your body off of him and onto the space beside him. He moves again to shift off the bed, presumably to grab a washcloth to wipe you off, but you clutch his bicep and bury your face into his muscular side.
"Please don’t go,” you whisper. He looks hesitant, wanting to clean you up and take care of you like you deserve.
"I can’t fall asleep counting stars. I need them to stay by my side,” you mumble sleepily, not even caring that the mixture of your collective release dripped down your rear and onto the bed beneath you. When he doesn’t respond, you peer up at him, and find yourself in awe of the man before you.
While his face is utterly exhausted, the sleep in his eyes clouding his azure blues, he almost glows. Because of his evol, Xavier is always incandescent, but this is different. Its almost as if his sweat slicked skin illuminates in the soft rays of fading daylight that spill into his bedroom. He catches your stare and he smiles so brilliantly at you that you feel like you’re in the presence of the sun itself. Like he’s an angel sent from the heavens to derail your entire life. 
He relaxes back down beside you, covering the two of you with his thick comforter. Fixating on the sounds of your soft breathing, Xavier softly tucks you into his side, with his arm around the back of your shoulders. Finally, he speaks gently and so heartbreakingly apologetically, "I’m sorry. I should've responded to your messages.”
"Honestly, I'm not that upset,” you sigh into his warm chest muscles that feel better than any pillow ever could. Propping onto your side to face him, worry laces into your voice, "But Xavier, you fell asleep after getting injured. Aren’t you still tired?”
His voice is thick with sleep, deep and comforting to your ears, "Yeah.”
"Will a good night’s sleep fix everything?”
With his fingers tracing patterns into your naked back, Xavier’s pensive for a brief moment. His answer is thoughtful and earnest, "Only if you stay and sleep next to me.” 
The butterflies that erupt in your stomach bloom into your chest and you're incapable of keeping your voice steady while you continue your line of questioning, "Is that why you always say everything’s fine and don’t tell me when you’ve been gravely wounded?” 
He hesitates as you stare at him, his arm still wrapped protectively over you.
Seconds tick by, "I’m leaving if you don’t answer.” You even make a show of trying to get up, knowing damn well you’re not going anywhere. Xavier’s grip on you tightens, quite possessively.
"I promise it won’t ever happen again,” his eyes convey so much more than his words as he stares into your very being. The ardor in his blue eyes overwhelms you with emotions that sting your eyes. 
"Will there ever be a day when you fall asleep and never wake up?” The question comes tumbling out of your lips before you can even stop it. There’s really no reason for you to even fathom that this could happen, but something inside you demands an answer from the silver haired man wrapped around you.
Xavier is silent for an agonizing moment, but takes your hand into his, placing a warm kiss onto it. You shiver at the feel of his lips against your hand. It feels like much more than just a fleeting kiss, but a promise, "If such a thing ever happens, you – and only you – must remember to wake me up.”
You fall back into the crook of where his chest connects with his arm, satisfied with his response, for now. With your hand still in his, you nuzzle into him, doing your best to avoid the trail of injuries that still stained his beautiful glowing skin. 
And it felt so good, so right to be held by Xavier like this. Xavier wondered how it could be that you fit so perfectly into his arms, into his life. You both knew there was a heavy conversation to be had, about where this left the two of you. As friends, as hunting partners, but especially as two people whose fates were so indescribably interwoven with each other. You both decided you’d save that for later, opting to savor the perfect bliss of this moment. 
Xavier’s unable to keep his hands off you, innocently grazing against every inch of skin he can. His fingers trace unintelligible patterns on your back and his right hand rubs soothingly up and down between your thigh and your hips. His comforting touch feels so inexplicably right, like two stars written in the night sky. Xavier was your shooting star, after all.
Just before sleep consumes you, you feel out for him, "Xavier?” You’re unsure if he’s still awake as you await his response. 
"Yes love?” From his voice you can tell he is on the cusp of dozing off, still with his hands all over you. Your heart flutters at his words.
"You better not ever scare me like that again,” your voice, thick with exhaustion, is anything but threatening as you kiss the skin of his chest muscles. 
His languid chuckle is deeper than usual, his stroking halts as he grips your thigh tight, drawing you closer to him and pressing an adoring kiss to your forehead, "If this is my punishment, then I can’t make any promises.”
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
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godnectar · 10 months
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Yandere himbo? >:)
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・✶ 。゚𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 ;
cw: toxic behavior, bae's hot, oblivious and delusional asf, kinda manipulative, jealousy, violence, guilt tripping,,,, justifications + probably a big ass etc. ( inbox )
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𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who possesses a genuinely warm and friendly demeanor that, along with his looks, easily draws people to him. the pure, charming, and easygoing smile he usually wears making it extremely hard for others to suspect anything about his hidden, darker tendencies — reason why you didn't really made a big deal out of his sudden but innocent looking crush towards you and just felt flattered.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO whose loyalty absolutely knows no bounds once you two got together after countless of sweet, sincere compliments, some appealing winks, and a few wholesome dates. he's hopelessly devoted to you, willing to go to extreme lengths to ensure his darling's happiness and safety twenty-four seven.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who's cheerful facade is fast to crumble the next second he perceives someone as a threat to your lovely, fairy tale looking relationship, no matter if it's because of one of your friends getting to touchy or just one of your relatives making a disapproving comment about your choice of a partner. even though, he's also quick to apologize whenever you get mad as the familiar, beefy arms that hold you at night get covered with scratches after he holds your acquaintances in a chokehold deep inside an alley hours prior. unsurprisingly, guilt overcomes you as soon as you glance at his pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows, pained by your anger over his instinctive jealousy.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who as much as he lacks intelligence, probably also lacks comprehension for his actions' severity most of the time, leading him to justify some disturbing things such as his hostility, surveillance and obsessive keepsakes by saying it all comes from his undying love towards you, the light of his eyes.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who genuinely thinks there's nothing wrong with what he does. sure, he might not be the brightest bulb in the box, nor the man with the healthiest mental state you'll meet — the latter being pretty noticeable, especially when you catch on the fearful stares some people send among all the praising others unawarely give — but at least he's trying his best at showing you that his... heart throbs only for his sweetling, right?
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who desires with all his heart for you to be as head over heels for him as he is for you, never giving up on trying to make you let down all of your guards to share his innermost yearns, fantasizing about an intense, exclusive and unique connection between you two where both seek to become the other's one and only.
"tell me how much you love me, my dear. need to hear you saying there's absolutely no one in your heart but me."
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© godnectar 2023. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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pupkashi · 8 months
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thinking about how gojo gets so giddy and smiley when you kiss his dimples :(
like he’ll do anything for you to press kisses to his lil dimples, sometimes preferring that than actually kissing you on the lips. he always tells you it makes him feel so pretty <3
he’ll be blushy and would get so shy, his cheeks growing red and his ears burning. he would try to hide his face the first time, too giggly to look you in the eye, especially when you tease him.
“you like your dimples kissed? what happened to all that big talk earlier, look at how much you’re melting right now!” he would just huff and pout, still blushing at your actions
sometimes he’d smile and angle his cheeks at you, waiting for you to press gentle kisses to the indentations on his cheeks.
“wish i could just lay in your dimples, pretty boy” you sigh, kissing his cheeks and brushing his hair out of his eyes. he’d let the words go straight to his heart, warmth blossoming in his chest as you peppered kisses on his face.
he’ll come home after a long day, settling next to you on the couch, melting into your touch when you rub your hand up and down his arm as he lays his head on your chest. his dimples appearing softly when he hears you talking about your day, laughing at your terrible jokes.
“there they are” you grin, placing enthusiastic kisses over his cheeks, smile only growing as you watch your lover grow redder by the kiss.
“you’re obsessed,” he giggles, face smushed between your hand and your lips, “thought you said your favorite feature was my eyes” he pouts.
“changed my mind,” you hum, kissing his dimple once more before letting him wrap his arms around you.
satoru finds that years later, as the two of you are sitting on the couch, much older and wiser than before, he’s still giddy and shy when your lips press to the small dimples. he still blushes just as deep as the first time you did it.
you find him just as charming and endearing with every giggle and giddy smile. you’re still as in love as before, pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks whenever you have the chance.
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a/n: idk man i just need to kiss his dimples every day every hour every second !
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
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Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.
His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.
Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.
Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.
They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.
Eddie agrees.
It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.
The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.
Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.
Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.
But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.
He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.
So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.
It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.
Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.
Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.
Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.
Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.
"But what if I let you down?"
"You won't."
"But-"
"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."
And he was.
They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.
He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.
He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.
When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.
But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.
Of course Steve was there.
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tteokdoroki · 21 days
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tw ! slight age gap, reader is older, cheating, fingering, smut.
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hello going on a business trip or to a conference, escaping your mundane life and the marriage that brings you nothing.
you’ve really gone on this trip to get away from your dead bedroom and the spouse that treats you like nothing more than a money maker.
which leads you to having a chance encounter with bakugou at the bar of the hotel your conference is at. you remember him from one of the panels — he’s young for this field of work but incredibly handsome, has brilliant red eyes that draw you in like magnetising poles, he makes you laugh and from your belly too. he’s everything your current spouse is not, there’s a spark inside you that you haven’t felt in years and bakugou knows it too. he makes you feel beautiful and seen and all he’s done is buy you a drink with a sour olive in it.
you find yourself stumbling behind him after one too many drinks, katsuki guiding you back to your hotel room — the good man that he is. you’ve both got panels to attend tomorrow morning at 9am sharp. it wouldn’t be wise to spend the rest of the night basking in booze and one another’s company. but when you get the door, failing to slip your key card into the slot — the blonde’s hand touches yours to help you get it in and all sense of logic is lost.
you no longer feel drained by mundane life waiting for you back home, you no longer think of your boring spouse in currently sleeping in your marital bed where they fail to make you feel loved. from the moment katsuki’s hand had touched yours, all you could feel was electricity, the longing and the wanting you’ve been desperately craving.
his lips drag sweep across your skin in heated motions and they find pleasure spots you’re not sure you even knew existed. bakugou’s fingers map out every inch of your body as though he may never touch you again, they dip past the forbidden band of your a-line skirt and write secret promises of pleasure against your clit because you’re married and the both of you know this is wrong.
one touch turns into another, dull and thick fingers stretch you open and graze your g-spot with an ease your spouse could never find. you e never felt this good, your lashes flutter against katsuki’s neck as he holds you to his chest and finger fucks you to the high heavens…because you’re just a hardworking woman who hasn’t had her pussy ruined in a long time, not like you deserve. he grins when you cream on just two of his fingers, such a good girl, so easy to please.
“such a pretty girl… such a hard worker ‘n no one to take care of you,” the blonde purrs into your ear before pushing you into the plush pillows and blankets below. there’s a gravel in his voice that raises at the heartbeat between your legs, not to mention the perfect view of him loosening his shirt and tie above you. “s’that why you’ve fallen into bed with the youngest guy here. ‘cause i got what it takes t’keep up with ya, yeah? make you feel better than that poor excuse of a fuck you got back home?”
bakugou grins slow and sexy when your hips rise from the bed on instinct at his words and he kisses you just to reward you, a poor touch starved little thing. its hungry and sloppy and messy and somewhere in the mix of his tongue wrapped around yours and your hands in his hair — the blonde has ripped through your stockings and slipped his aching, dripping slick cock past your quivering entrance.
he feels like home inside you, feels you up to the brim and sends your eyes rolling back into the depths of your skull. every stroke is calculated, every piston of katsuki’s meaty girth purposive and intentional — crafted to make you see stars with every jolt of your body up the bed. you can’t go back to regular old life after tonight, you won’t be able to go back to the way things were without picturing bakugou’s tie hanging loosely above you and hearing his deep moans echo throughout your mind.
that night you leave marks on one another that you’ll be hiding for weeks, smiling at when no one is looking, reminiscing the sinful experience shared in this very hotel room. there’s too much passion in the room for this to just remain a one time thing, too much emotion behind the act saliva swept lip lock or love bite left below the line of future clothes to be worn.
you know that you won’t give katsuki up especially when he kisses you as you cum together, thick white seeping between your swollen and ravaged folds.
you’ll do anything to be underneath bakugou like this again, even if it means planning fake business trips every other weekend to get away from your spouse and get fucked to the high heavens by your young hot colleague.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
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