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#but most of all I missed the ocean

hungry-hungry-hobbit · 1 year

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I’ve been up since 4:30am

Had to drive an hour to the launch site for our crew boat

I’ve been hollered at for knowing how to tie lines but not drive a twin engine boat

And I’m most likely not getting home till 6:30pm(after the hour drive)

Oddly enough, I’ve never been happier at a job on the first day.

I missed the ocean

#deckhand #boats boats boats #tugboats #but most of all I missed the ocean

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diejager · 5 months

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Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention.

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes.

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument.

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body.

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail.

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him.

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight.

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours.

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures.

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you.

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home.

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him.

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him.

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much.

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty.

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind.

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition.

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to.

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition.

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you.

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live.

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much.

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures.

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room.

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making.

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal.

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue.

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave.

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him.

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying.

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh.

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back.

“You’re happy, ja?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 8 months

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random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #percabeth #molly mumbles

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lovebugism · 2 months

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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story.

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter.

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet.

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next.

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?”

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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goldenhypen · 1 month

Text

. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ ｡

syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.

pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink

a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>

“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”

it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.

“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.

“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.

he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.

“better?” he smirked.

“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”

the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”

“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.

“you know why?”

“hm?”

he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”

“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”

“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.

you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”

“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.

you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.

the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.

“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.

you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.

you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.

“jake…”

he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”

“if you’re sick—”

“i’m alright. don’t worry.”

sceptical, you nodded.

later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”

you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”

“it’s so cold.”

“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”

he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”

you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”

you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”

he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”

you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”

you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”

⎯ ❤︎ ⎯

“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”

“thanks, love.”

you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.

after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.

“i love being sick,” he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.

“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.

“i like being sick.”

“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.

“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.

“i��” was all you managed to push out, speechless.

“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”

you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”

“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.

“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”

he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.

“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.

you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”

you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”

a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33

m.list · taglist

taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @sunjakes @w3bqrl @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @aeriil11 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @atrirose @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg

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aeyumicore · 2 months

Text

☾ .⭒˚ heartstring symphony ♡ xavier x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ 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 ⋆.˚ ☾

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 didnt 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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stsgluver · 9 months

Text

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

#— toru!!#gojo drabbles #satoru #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo headcannons #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru drabbles

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ultravioletrayz · 3 months

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Thinking about going to the beach with a slightly possessive Miguel

miguel o’hara x curvy!f!reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Miguel’s probably more of a nap on the shore kinda guy. He’ll get in the water if you ask him to or if he’s feeling it, but otherwise he just lays on his beach towel and relaxes or reads.

But you’re at the beach for fuck’s sake, so you make sure to make the most of the experience and swim around. After a bit of time in the water, you get out to join Miguel on the sand. The sea roughed you up a bit, causing cleavage and delicious curves to spill out of your swimsuit for every beach-goer to ogle.

Miguel spots you, and despite the fact that he’s insanely turned on by the way you look in your little swimsuit, the sudden need to protect what’s his from the undeserving eyes of the public overcomes him. He shoots up from his beach towel and wraps you up in his big, beefy arms, hastily carrying you to your little spot on the beach and shielding you from the unwanted attention.

“¡¿Eres estupida?!” Miguel hisses, and you frown at his harsh and frantic words. That frown quickly turns upside down when you feel his hard, throbbing cock pressing against your stomach through his swim trunks.

One thing leads to another and Miguel packs up all of your belongings and feverishly loads the car up. Why? So that he can fuck you in the backseat of his car rather than on the beach. He’s classier than that.

Miguel doesn’t even bother taking off your swimsuit, it’s tiny anyways so it’s not like he’s missing out on the view of your pretty tits bouncing wildly in his face and exposing themselves from the confinements of your itty bitty bikini as he fucks you onto his cock, guiding your hips as he makes you ride him, his hips recklessly bucking upwards to meet your jiggling ass with a symphony of harsh slaps and moans.

The car’s shaking from side to side, the windows are fogged up, and you and Miguel are looking at each other through half-lidded eyes with beads of saltwater clinging to both of your lashes.

He fucks you until he’s certain you know that your body is his and his alone. Only he gets to see you in pretty bikinis like this one, which has come undone and is now loosely wrapped around your upper arms by its straps from his relentless thrusts. Only he gets to see you begging for more and holding onto the car seat for stability as Miguel uses you like a fleshlight.

Only he gets to drive you home after this, help you rub aloe vera and lotion on your irritated, dry skin, run you a soothing bath to wash away the salty remnants of the ocean, help you cook dinner as the two of you laugh about the crazy characters you spotted at the beach, and climb into bed with you after a lovely day out together.

Oh my golly god gosh guys, I have SO many requests and drafts to finish. But it’s my pleasure to write for you all, hope you’re having a lovely day/night <3

#ultravioletrayz #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 x reader #miguel x you

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