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#l drabbles
osaemu · 4 months
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IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH: L LAWLIET
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he has a high fever, but he won't let you take care of him.
contents: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of mild sickness. first time writing for L (my new hyperfixation!)
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“ryu, you can’t seriously work like this,” you insist, tugging at the sleeve of L’s shirt. he doesn’t respond until you snatch the half-eaten pastry out of his hand. “i’m serious!”
L turns and looks at you disbelievingly. “i’m fine,” he responds indifferently, not seeming to notice the red blush spreading throughout his face. “it’s not bad enough to keep me from the investigation,” he adds, making an attempt to retrieve his snack from your outstretched hand.
“you have a fever,” you say pointedly, taking a bite of the sugary sweet. L makes an unimpressed face and sighs, posture worsening even more—is that even possible?—before he turns back to his computer. 
“i can’t even feel it,” L insists, sticking out his bottom lip. you reach out and brush some of his hair out of his eyes, resting the back of your hand on his forehead. either your boyfriend has an otherworldly resistance to sickness or he’s lying, because he’s burning up.
you sigh and let your hand fall from L’s forehead to his cheek, fingers tracing his jawline as you watch him scroll through some sort of legal document. obviously, he’s not going to stop working without a reason, so you try a different approach. “L, if you’re sick, does that affect your deductive skills?”
L’s fingers still around the computer mouse, ceasing his scrolling as he looks back up at you. “i guess.”
“so you shouldn’t be working on a really important case while you have a high fever, right? or you could miss something.” 
he scrunches up his nose in response and thinks for a long second. “why are you trying so hard to get me to stop working?” L asks, narrowing his eyes. he tilts his head in genuine curiosity—which is funny, because you think it should be obvious.
you shrug in response, a small smile growing on your lips. “shouldn’t you know already?” you tease, poking his cheek playfully. L looks at you blankly, giving no discernable reaction—like always. “you’re impossible,” you huff, crossing your arms childishly.
“answer the question.”
“because i care about my boyfriend. sue me.”
L blinks, a flicker of surprise shining in his dark eyes. he doesn’t respond, but he does stand up and take your hand, cold fingers tangling with yours as he lets you lead him away. “thank you,” he murmurs, and his voice is almost quiet enough for you to miss his words entirely. you squeeze his hand in response—no need for words.
he rests his head on your shoulder as you exit the dark, shaded investigation room. "can i have the last bite?" he asks tentatively, pointing at the remainder of his pastry that's left in your other hand. you laugh a little and nod, pausing in front of a flight of stairs to feed L the last sugar-filled bite.
L's lips close around the flaky pastry and brush against your fingers, and even with the added blush from his fever, his face noticeably goes a shade pinker.
"you're so cute, ryu," you mumble, brushing away the crumbs that linger around his lips with your thumb. he hums in reply, shadowed eyes closing as he rests his cheek in your palm.
"i'm tired."
"then let me take care of you for a little," you insist, watching as he reopens his eyes and looks back at the ajar door of the investigation room. "please?"
"fine. a couple hours, then i have to get back to the case."
"m'kay, m'kay."
(he ends up falling asleep in your arms and doesn't wake up for seventeen hours straight—but when he does, his fever's gone!)
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amaya-writes · 2 years
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hi, amaya!! :3 may i ask for a fluffy L x reader where the reader gives him a back massage? cuz there's no way his back doesn't hurt with the way he seats/walks. (o_o)
Notes: gah this was such a cute idea i couldn't help but write it before some of my other reqs I've never given or received a back massage so i didn't really know hwo to write the actual massage bits. 😭😩 but i hope this was fine
Warnings: n/a just pure fluff
Characters involved: L Lawliet
Gender-neutral reader, you/yours
Your arms almost automatically wound around his waist as you sat down on the couch beside L, with your chin coming to rest on his shoulder even as you felt his body stiffen below your hold.
"I'm working."
Even if he tried to sound stern, you could all but hear the blush in his voice as L continued fiddling with the sheets before him.
"You've been working all day."
He hummed at that but chose not to do anything else to acknowledge your words.
The sound of his silence had you letting out a sigh as you buried your face into his neck and tried to use your proximity to distract him from his work.
"C'mon baby, you're going to break your back if you keep on slouching like this for hours on end."
"Scientifically speaking, that is all but impossible."
You let out a small huff at his words, but were quick to swap out your annoyance for curiosity as an idea popped into your head.
L wasn't really one for physical affection, but over time he had come to get used to your touch. However, one thing he definitely wasn't used to was the feeling of your hands trailing over his shoulders and then moving down to his back, applying slight pressure as you went.
"What are you doing?"
You shrugged at that, paying no mind to his evident curiosity as you instead focused on massaging his back, or at least trying to.
"I told you, working like this for so long isn't good for your back."
You continued gently pressing down on his back and shoulders as you spoke, but were quick to come to a stop the second you felt him move away.
For a second you couldn't help but wonder whether you had done something wrong, but your worries were quickly quelled as you watched L set down his paperwork and return to your side.
"I suppose I could take a break for a while-"
he finally turned to you then, with a soft smile ghosting over his lips as he shifted his position to lean more towards you rather than the back of the couch.
"-But only if you continue for a bit."
You giggled at his request but chose to oblige as you once again let your hands trail over his back, this time with warmth pooling in your stomach as you realised L Lawliet had just given you permission to take care of him, something he up until recently only reserved for Watari.
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sluttsumu · 3 months
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high for this - zayne
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i just can’t stop thinking about dr. zayne.
personally i love a man with a phd but something about him is so inviting. behind that stoic demeanour is a stone cold freak, a pleasure dom if you will.
zayne is the best partner really; who else would be suitable enough to turn you out, other than a man whose studied the human body his entire career.
“no moreeee—” you drag, knees buckling around the vibrator he held right on your clit.
you’d been going at this for 30 minutes, and this little experiment of his is driving you nuts.
seeing how much he can repeatedly make you cum had been on his mind, he couldn’t help but put it to the test in the most efficient way.
“another one,” he repeated for about the fifth time. “you can give me another one sweetheart.”
he watched how your body reacted, how your breath hitched, voice cracked, muscles spazz, even they way you beg for him to stop just to want more in the end. it was quite analytical for him, but that’s just what comes with the job.
“i— ah— gonna cum, fuck! ‘m gonna cum— again..”
your incoherent babbles put a small smirk on his face, not that you can see it considering he’s seated behind you, toying with your pretty pussy in his lap.
“high on all that dopamine,” a slender hand reaches to your throat squeezing just enough to make you feel a little dizzy. “let’s give you some more yea? since you’ve been so good for me.” the euphoric bliss of reduced blood flow, and lack of oxygen to the brain — or more commonly known as asphyxiation.
you could feel the tightness in your head as your eyes roll back, a single tear streaming down the side of your cheek as your hips bucked, cumming for the fifth time in his lap.
as long as zayne had you in his grasp he’d give you the best orgasms until you found your favourite way to cum for him.
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© SLUTTSUMU 2023
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atsuwumus · 4 months
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒 . . .
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๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. sub! deepspace men, slight hair pulling, begging, bondage, teasing, blind folding. um... did I forget something??? xavier's is a little nasty eheh (≖ᴗ≖ ✿)
๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : teehee ... (๑﹏๑//) something no one asked for but I couldn't shake this from my brain. will be writing a dom version for this idea as well!! erm... not proofread so if you find a mistake no you don't
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𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 : "You know the rules. No touching."
Something vibrates from deep within Zayne's chest and it sounds far too close to a moan than anything else. This is torture, he thinks, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as you ever so slowly shed another layer of clothing. You've been subjecting him to this teasing abuse for almost half an hour now, swaying your hips to the low beat coming from his stereo, prancing around him in nothing but a pair of panties and lingerie he was just itching to rip off.
"You're quite the vixen tonight, aren't you?" he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending ice curling through your veins, a low and pleasant sound that only beckons you closer to him until you're right in his trap. "It's enchanting. If I were any smarter I would say that you're trying to get my heart racing."
Zayne's hands are icy when he plants them on your hips, firm and demanding, pulling you down right to where he wants you. He's aching, cock straining hard against his suit pants, throbbing when you finally press down against him, your cunt quivering when you feel the familiar outline of him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as he tilts his head back, relishing in the feeling of finally feeling you again, but his pleasure is momentarily when you push up to your toes, hovering over his lap.
He blinks your beautiful figure back into focus, opening and closing his mouth several times as he searches for something to say. You had laid the rules out for him long before this little game began and he had just broken the number one rule - no touching. He watches with a lump in his throat as you step back, light little steps all the way back to the bed, spreading yourself out among the dark satin sheets.
"Oh, Zayne.." you sigh, your voice a mixture of a dreamy sigh and something a little more sensually sinister. "I don't envy your position. Guess now you'll just have to be a good boy and stay put while I play."
His hands tighten into fists as he watches you through low lashes, how your hands skim up and down your skin that he ached to touch. Perhaps this is his punishment for making you beg for it. Time for a taste of his own medicine.
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𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 : The satin winds around his wrists in intricate lines, binding his wrists together and leaving him vulnerable in the palm of your hands. You never thought your boyfriend would agree to this, but it was surprisingly easy to get him to fall right into his trap, luring him closer and closer with the promise of pleasure.
And the sight of him wrapped up like this was one that you were determined to tuck into the cracks and corners of your mind, to remember forever.
You've made yourself comfortable on his lap, his bound hands behind your back, essentially keeping you locked in his embrace. Every now and then you can feel the gentle brush of his thumbs as they brush over your back, seeking bare skin, warmth, how you shiver with every grind over his cock. He wasn't one that ever minded messes and he wasn't about to start now, especially not with the way you were dripping over him, your folds parting a little bit each time the leaking flushed tip of his cock met your cunt.
Your forehead is pressed tightly to his, light strands of hair, slick with sweat, tickling your own but you can't find it in yourself to complain, not when it feels this good, to be pressed chest to chest. Rafayel fights to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on your face and not the way you're making him drip. Puffs of hot air hit your face and if you focus hard enough you can hear the whines woven between them, feel how he ruts his hips up every now and then, seeking more.
"Tell me how it good it feels," you whisper, your glossy lips dragging across the heated skin of his cheek, feeling how his breath trembles and shakes. "Tell me how much you like being tied up for me."
Rafayel's spit-soaked lips part, the syllables shaking on the tip of his tongue when you press down harder against his aching cock, whimpering a weak, "I-I do-"
"Yeah?"
"Ngh- Yes. Yes, fuck, I do. I do, baby, I do so much." A high-pitched whine sneaks past his lips. "Just, please, fuck me."
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𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 : For a man who's calm, collected and never shaken by anything in battle, Xavier's breathing is shaky. His hands seek you out with desperate touches, stumbling over the sheets, fumbling with the crevices and dips of your hips until he finds your hand.
"I..." he licks his lips, pauses, and exhales a long breath. "I quite like this."
You nudge your cheek into his other awaiting hand as you bend down a little, a small smirk spreading across your face when you notice how red his cheeks have gotten. How you wished he could see how pretty he looked like this - blindfolded, on his knees in front of you, desperate to please.
You coo softly, watching as Xavier perks up when he feels the familiar warmth of your body spilling across his own when you shift closer. It's almost comical, how eager he seems, like a puppy wanting to please its master. You let your thumb run over the silk draped across his eyes, obscuring his vision, ensuring he wouldn't be able to see between the cracks before murmuring, "You're such a good boy, aren't you?"
A hum vibrates in the back of his throat and he nods, perhaps a little too eagerly. But you're not satisfied with just that, threading your fingers between the strands of light hair. Xavier makes the mistake of nudging into your touch before you tug at the strands, drawing a strained moan from his lips, the high pitched sound soon dissolving into a pathetic moan.
You glance down at his boxers, raising one of your brows at the dark stain that decorates the material, huffing out a stale chuckle. "Oh, you poor thing," faux sympathy laces your words as you speak. "Don't tell me you came from his a little bit of tugging and teasing?"
Xavier's cheeks are red, his neck flushing an even deeper color and he attempts to duck his head, yet the grip on his hair you currently have prevents him from doing so. Shamefully he rocks his hips up, seeking friction but being met with nothing. You tut before gripping the strands once more and Xavier has no choice but to follow your touch, up, up and up until his nose brushes against the inside of your thigh.
A long whine escapes him as he presses his nose against the dampness of your panties, inhaling deeply as his hands fly south to press against his boxers, squeezing his cock.
"Please," he whispers, his words muffled between your thighs. "Please let me make you feel good, please. Just one taste, I swear I'll be so good to you."
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endlessthxxghts · 3 months
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Breakfast
Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader
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Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.
A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)
MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION
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Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 
So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.
“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 
“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 
With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 
“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 
“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 
“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 
Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”
You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 
“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 
“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 
Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”
Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 
Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 
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“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 
He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 
“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 
He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 
“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 
Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”
“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 
“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 
Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.
“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 
“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 
Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 
Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 
Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 
“Darlin’,” he rasps. 
“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 
“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 
Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 
At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 
“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 
“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 
He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 
Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”
“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 
His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 
Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 
“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”
“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”
“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”
“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 
“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 
“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 
“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 
“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 
You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 
He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 
You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 
“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 
“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 
Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 
“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 
You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 
“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 
“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 
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End note -
I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼
Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics
@pedrostories
2K notes · View notes
aeyumicore · 3 months
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☾ .⭒˚ heartstring symphony ♡ xavier x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: xavier x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf (so so so sooo many feelings like a whole ocean of feelings) 
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.1k (oh lawd)
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, tiny reference/spoiler to chapter 4 of the main story (grandma and caleb), references to xavier/overall lads lore, first time sex (not virginity loss), explicit sexual content, pure pure filth but also so fluffy and emotional, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving and m!receiving), lots of making out, pussy job, finger fucking, tongue fucking, cum as lube, references to xavier’s evol, slight use of y/n, switch!xavier, slight predator/prey play, somewhat vanilla
⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommending watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://youtu.be/U-OanLwbSVE?si=Um0NFib7gQOTGrLq
☾ .⭒˚ a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY BABIESSSSS COME GET YOUR FOOD. oof this one is a doozy. based off the memory ‘heartstring symphony’ with xavier, there’s a lot of small changes to the progression and the dialogue, but its largely on par with the original memory! there’s a lot of ‘plot’ building as this memory is a bit long and i really wanted to incorporate parts from the beginning, middle, and end so i ended up needing to write for the entire thing. the build up is kinda important to the smut but you can definitely still just skip to the smut (ya filthy hoes)!!
100% dedicated to my bestie who is the downest baddest bitch for xavier!
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾
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The sunlight bounces off the sheen of the strawberries that are finally ripening enough to eat. It’d been months since Xavier and you had started your quaint little rooftop garden atop his balcony, and your collective dedicated gardening was finally rewarded with the most beautiful crimson strawberries you’d ever seen. Having been tasked with tending to his house plants on his sudden trip away, you found yourself spending a lot of time with the strawberries on Xavier’s apartment’s balcony. 
"But even though you’re bearing fruit, your owner isn’t here,” you murmur sadly, stroking the slightly sticky skin of the berries. Okay sure, you were undoubtedly projecting your own feelings onto the poor little strawberries, but who could blame you? It’d been ten days since Xavier had suddenly left town and similarly ten days since he’d responded to any of your text messages or returned any phone calls. 
And dammit, you missed him. Missed his deep groggy voice when he’d pick up your phone calls at 11 am asking if he’d had breakfast yet, his bewildered face when you’d barge into his apartment demanding that he take you to play crane games, the way he’d pretend not to notice when you swapped hands during kitty cards. Ever since you’d first met the enigmatic hunter in the abandoned protocore research base on your first mission as an official hunter, you found both your night and day dreams being filled with the thought of him. 
You’d even missed him enough to send a few regrettable late night texts, confessing just that. At 4am. You groaned inwardly at the embarrassment of recalling your deleted messages. Really, no one should be allowed to send any text messages after 1am. Least of all you, who had so many confusing unresolved feelings for the silver haired man in question.
The sound of keys jingling a door open snaps you out of your thoughts. Your heart pounded, he was finally home! Excitedly, you scrambled back into Xavier’s apartment, to be met with the sight of him struggling to remove his uniform top. The sight of his sculpted torso on display before you like an absolute art piece, had you freezing in your tracks, cheeks heating at the glorious site before you. Xavier also froze, his cerulean eyes locking with yours in surprise.
"You’re…here?” his voice was as warm as you'd remembered, the sound of it forever etched in your mind. But it sounded too soft, tired. Exhausted even. 
"Y-yeah…the weather was good today and I wanted to check on the strawberries,” you attempted to remain calm and collected, turning around to stop from staring at his exposed stomach. But the plethora of injuries on his pale skin caught your eye. Instantly, you were at his side, inspecting him and assessing his scars. 
“...You got hurt?!” your heart hammered anxiously in your chest as you reached to touch him. He peered down at you guiltily, pulling his top back down to cover the scars. He gently pried your hands away from his abdomen, letting his fingers linger on your skin far longer than he’d needed to, the touch not going unnoticed by you.
"It’s nothing, let me go get changed,” Xavier finally released your wrists and left you to wait on the couch for him. You felt on edge, waiting impatiently, feet tapping anxiously against the carpet. Xavier finally reemerges from his room in a fresh set of indoor clothes, a ribbed white long sleeve and gray sweatpant joggers. You’d seen him in this exact outfit many times, but suddenly the way his sweatpants sat against his lap made your mind wander, but you shake the filthy thoughts out of your head. When he finally sits down next to you, you can’t help but fret over him, grabbing his arm to inspect his complexion. 
"You went missing, and now you return all beaten up…why do you always make me worry?” you reprimanded, pouting slightly, "You’re wounded aren't you? Does it hurt?” your fingers ghost over the bruises on his forearm, the veins there protruding slightly amongst the bulging muscles. Xavier only turns away, unwilling to meet your gaze, but still leaving his arm in your lap.
His refusal to answer only makes you more desperate for reassurance that he’s alright. You try to lift his shirt, but he uses his free hand to grip your wrist, stopping you. You don’t notice the way he blushes at your touch.
"It’s nothing, just some minor scrapes.” while the mere sound of his voice does wonders to soothe your swimming mind, it does nothing to quell the anxiety you have over his well being. Over where he’d been these last ten days. With not so much as a single text message to let you know he was okay, safe. That’s all you had wanted, to know he was safe.
“I think your definition of scrape and my definition differ greatly,” you mutter sulkily, trying to get him to meet your eyes. When he doesn’t, you take his face in your two hands, forcing him to level with you. His cheeks tinge a peachy red under your palms, his normally slow and controlled breath rapidly increasing at your touch. 
"If your wounds aren’t treated they could get worse, get infected, and even become life-threatening,” you murmur, almost threatening him, unable to stop the worry from lacing into your words. You can tell he feels guilty, his eyes opting to stare at your shoulder instead of your eyes, “...This is nothing. I’m used to letting them heal without much thought.” 
This does nothing to make you feel better, if anything it makes you feel worse, and you’re unwilling to relent, "The past is the past. This is the present.”
His eyes finally peer into your own, meeting your stubborn gaze. His deep blue orbs are intense, searching for something within your own. While his voice is deep, tired, undoubtedly exhausted, you can still sense the longing heat in them. He sighs, finally caving into your whims, "Alright. So, what do you want me to do?”
And so you find yourself in Xavier’s dimly lit living room, a first aid kit on your lap, and Xavier shirtless in front of you. You try to ignore the fact that he’s very much half naked in front of you, his joggers sitting dangerously low on his waist. So much so that you can definitely see the indentation of his obliques forming a tight ‘v’. It was enough to turn your brain into mush, but you fought those intrusive thoughts away so you could tend to his injuries. 
Taking a deep breath to try and calm your raging nerves, you start, "Is there a spot that hurts the most? Or is really sensitive? I’ll try to be extra gentle when I apply the ointment.” your eyes linger on the way his collar bones frame the muscles on his chest, the skin there pure and untouched from the dark bruises forming on Xavier’s shoulder and abs. You bite your lip to withhold the shiver threatening to overtake you at the image of Xavier in all his muscular glory before you. His gentle voice brings you out of your filthy reverie.
"My neck.”
"Hmm?” your eyes snap to his, cheeks flaming when you realize he’d caught you staring. He smiles gently, but thankfully doesn’t tease you.
"The most sensitive part of my body is my neck,” he says again, his words almost threatening to make you unleash the shiver you were holding back. Refusing to let your mind wander more, you lean forward and begin carefully cleaning the wound that’s etched onto the muscles that connect his shoulders to his neck. While you wipe the cut with one hand, you use your other hand to rub comforting circles around the red skin surrounding it, hoping to ease the stinging. 
Xavier groans, his voice husky and drawn out. You can’t help but wonder what that sound would feel like under a different circumstance, but repress those thoughts deep deep down. 
"Does it hurt a lot?” you keep your eyes glued to the irritated skin, lightening the pressure at which you’re pressing down, not wanting him to feel any semblance of pain, ever. 
"Kind of.” Xavier’s response is clouded in ambiguity, leaving you confused as to what he wants to say. Before you can press him further he speaks again, “I appreciate you looking after things while I was gone.” 
You sigh at his persistent nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just up and disappeared and come back beaten and bruised. You knew him well enough to know he’s not planning on telling you what had happened to injure him like this or why he had to leave town in the first place.
Feeling childish, you decide two can play at that game, "You don’t need to thank me. Neighbors should always look out for each other.” you force down the inexplicable emotions stirring inside of you that threaten to spill into your voice, continuing to tend to the cuts on his neck. 
He doesn’t respond and the room becomes suffocatingly quiet. Swapping the alcohol wipe for the ointment, you briefly peer up to find Xavier staring at you with his intense blue eyes. You stubbornly refuse to waver from his stare, but he remains silent.
"What? If you have something to say, say it,” you demand, a bit snappishly, unable to contain the hurt you felt at his repeated silence, both now but also on his days away. 
Xavier remains gentle even at your abrasiveness, "You’re really close to me. All I can do is look at you.” despite yourself, you blush at his words, chest tightening. He keeps his eyes on yours and you can’t help but squirm under his emotion clouded blue eyes, though you couldn’t decipher exactly which emotion swam through them.
The silence envelopes the air once more as you refuse to speak. Xavier speaks up again, his voice low and almost sad, "Are you angry with me?”
Your heart cracks at the vulnerability in his voice, but you can’t seem to let go of your own peeved feelings, "Why would I be? We’re just acquaintances who happen to be neighbors.” you know you’re being unfair, but you can’t help but feel as if you deserve some kind of explanation. You cared about him, far more than he probably knew, and he just up and disappeared without a trace for ten days. And to top it all off, he came back looking like this.
"Are the other neighbors like us?” though his words are simple, you can’t help but wonder if Xavier is intending to say something else under the veil of those words. 
No, you supposed to yourself, other neighbors probably did not feel the least bit in the way you felt for Xavier. Your hands tremble at the thoughts you can’t seem to push away, and you accidentally press a bit too deeply as you apply the ointment. Xavier winces, his eyes finally unfocussing from yours and his brows furrowed in discomfort. 
Instantly you feel bad for being even the least bit annoyed with him. Your voice is much gentler now, almost apologetic, "Was I too rough? You're…does it hurt a lot?”
Xavier smiles reassuringly at you, so warm and gentle despite your attitude and the undeniable pain of his injuries, your stomach can’t help but flutter at him, "Sort of, but I’m alright.” 
"That’s good,” is all you can sheepishly say as you find yourself lost in his expression. 
"Maybe the pain is so intense that I can’t feel anything,” Xavier is smiling so you know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel incredibly guilty.
"Really? I didn’t mean to…”
The look he gives you is enough to shut you up. Though he doesn’t say anything, his facial expression makes you wonder what exactly is going on in his mind. Finally he speaks up, "It’s okay. I forgive you, and in exchange you’re not allowed to be angry at me anymore.”
“I told you that I wasn’t angry,” you sigh, "Stay still. I’m going to apply the bandage.” Xavier smiles and nods, straightening his posture obediently. You want to tease him, but instead diligently apply a bit of gauze to his neck and adhere it with some medical tape.
Satisfied with your handiwork, you smile smugly, "All done. Keep your wounds away from water and avoid eating spicy food for the next few days.” Xavier mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and when you look at him his head is bowed down so low you can’t even see his eyes. Before you know it, he’s collapsing in your arms, completely passed out. 
"X-Xavier?!” you catch him easily, but his unconscious weight holds you down. Xavier only murmurs groggily at your words. You can’t help but smile and rub his bare back adoringly. His skin is soft, and warm to the touch. You relish in the feel of his skin against yours and his presence enveloping you, having truly missed him so much. 
"Poor baby,” you sigh, contemplating on how you’ll be able to carry him to his bed. 
With great effort, you’re able to haul Xavier to his bedroom. As you bend down to lay him on his mattress, you trip over his feet. With his arms tangled in yours like a little koala holding on for dear like, you tumble onto the bed with him. You flop onto his mattress, and his arms tighten around you, locking you in place, tucked into his chest. You move to push him off you, but instead you accidentally graze his wrapped neck.
Xavier moans, still deep in sleep, and his lip pouts as he grips you even tighter. You sigh in defeat at how content he looks with his arms wrapped around you, with his bottom lip sticking out slightly. You can’t help but admire Xavier’s sleeping face, his long eyelashes tickling against your cheek. It’s not long before you find yourself being lulled to sleep by the warmth of his strong arms and the slow beating of his heart against yours. 
You awaken to Xavier tucking you into his blanket, his movements gentle as to not wake you. Your breath hitches but you do your best to pretend to still be sleeping, unable to face him in this compromising situation. With any luck, Xavier would get out of bed and you could pretend to wake up when he wasn’t so intimidatingly close to you. 
But instead of getting up, Xavier only lays back down beside you, nuzzling into your side. Your heart races at the affection, biting your lip to keep from making any noise. His body heat against your own threatens to unleash a shiver of satisfaction across your body, but you force it back so as to not alert him that you are in fact awake. 
Xavier is so unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning against your exposed neck and his fingers stroking your palm. Unable to withstand the suffocating tension, you pretend to wake up, feigning a yawn as you flutter your eyes open. You come face to face with Xavier, his eyes, still groggy with sleep, analyzing your every movement. His gaze falls lower, seemingly watching your lips part with the steady inhale and exhale of your bated breath.
You squirm, trying to dissipate the tension, remembering to keep your voice groggy, "Are you still tired? It’s not morning anymore, so maybe we should start thinking about what to eat.”
"You’re resting on my arm. I can’t move. At all.” you jolt upwards, and Xavier retracts his arm, rubbing the tender muscles, no doubt they’d fallen asleep, up and down. You hid your blush underneath your hair, unsure of what to do next. You became hyper aware of the fact that you sat in Xavier’s bed, with him. And he was so very shirtless. 
Luckily Xavier speaks so you don’t have to, “I saw your texts from yesterday saying you were having trouble falling asleep. Did you sleep well?”
"It was pretty good,” you answered earnestly, genuinely feeling more well rested than you had in weeks, but then your heart stuttered, "W-wait, you saw the message I deleted yesterday?!” 
"Yeah, I did. But I’m pretty sure it was a small peek,” his gentle smile changes to one of a teasing grin, "Xavier, if you don’t respond, I’m going to eat all the strawberries. All of them.” he raises the octave in his voice to mock you. To say you’re mortified would be an extreme understatement.
Trying to deflect from the fact that he’d in fact seen your embarrassing late night texts, you counter, "But I didn’t. I saved you a small bowl!”
He continues, deadset on his mission to embarrass the hell out of you, his grin radiant enough to stop your heart. Which you might actually prefer to the sheer embarrassment of being called out like this, "The moment I think about you being somewhere else annoys me to the point where I can’t sleep at all.” 
You feel like a deer caught in the headlights, utterly defensive, "Well, of course! You can’t just ask someone to look after your stuff and then ghost them. If that’s not being unreasonable then I don’t know what is!”
Xavier glances at you, his voice calm but his eyes holding inexplicable emotions that you cannot decipher, "Oh, and there's one text that I can't forget.” you hold your breath, already knowing which one it is. Undoubtedly the worst, most incriminating one of them all. 
“I think I miss you.” groaning, you cover your eyes with your hands and fall back against the bed. Xavier laughs, propping up on his side to face you, his fingers brushing some stray strands of hair away from your cheek, hooking them behind your ear. 
“...You saw every message!” you accused, peeking at him through the cracks of your fingers still covering your eyes. But 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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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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You have no idea how happy I am your requests are open 🥺 can I ask you a blurb or head canon with this prompt + Lando?
constantly touching. always finding reasons to touch each other.
Thank you in advance you are a ⭐
PHYSICAL TOUCH ★ LN4
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lando barely touched you at first. he was just a shy boy with a big, embarrassing crush on his friend’s sister. but then something happened and all changed.
it started with his arm touching yours every time he was sitting next to you. lando passed it as pretending to get comfortable, even if there was enough space for both of you on the couch. or when he was standing by your side he would take any opportunity to be as close as possible.
or he would take your hand to compare hand-sizes as an excuse to hold your hand.
and when you started to realize what lando was doing, well, you decided to play his game too. you would pretend to be cold whenever he was around, it was the perfect excuse because he never says no to you, and in reality he was more than happy to wrap his arms around you and cuddle or share a cozy blanket.
lando would even hold your hand to cross the street. he didn’t want anything happening to you. and nobody needs to know that your hand, so soft and warm, fits perfectly with his hand.
lando thought he was being subtle but then his friends started to make fun of him for being so obvious. but he couldn’t care less. you never pulled away when he touched you, and that’s all that mattered to him.
and when you started dating. well… lando took every opportunity to be as close as possible. he would casually kiss you, taking you by surprise, just because he couldn’t resist. he would also put a hand on your body, any part of your body, just to feel you close.
every single one of your friends are so done with you both. they’re so tired of seeing you with your hands around each other, and it’s not even sexual. but that’s just how you and lando are.
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starrystevie · 4 months
Text
eddie isn't sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe. isn't sure how someone he actively avoided in crowded hallways morphs into a pair of eyes he seeks out when things are too much. isn't sure what it is about steve harrington that has him gravitating towards a once was king. it just suddenly is.
steve's a steady hand on his shoulder, a gentle nudge with the toe of his shoe to get him up and moving. he's a barely there smile reassuring him that things are okay, will be okay, could be okay if they keep trying to get to whatever okay could be.
steve's there for all of them, he always has been. he's the one that every single one of their ragtag bunch runs to in their own ways because steve's strong in his own way and can take away bits of their pain and fear and hide it behind his armor so it can't hurt them anymore.
but he's different for eddie. he's more quiet, more sturdy. what would be smiles for el and a crass joke for dustin and a carefully crafted hug for robin is soft silence for eddie. maybe it's because he's the tiniest bit younger than eddie, maybe it's because he's newer, maybe it's because he put eddie back together with strong hands and an even stronger will and saw the quivering underbelly that he hides away from everyone with wide grins and overwhelming flair.
everyone except steve, apparently.
whatever it is, eddie searches for it with every chance he can. he slides closer to steve when crowds get too loud looking between their feet to make sure he isn't too close but can still feel the heat radiating off of his bare arms. he looks up to see steve's eyes on him when eddie's gone quiet, throwing him a small smile and hoping it catches. he holds onto steve's quiet acceptance of a shitty mixtape in the car when eddie needs loud, needs angry, because he feels loud, feels angry.
but then it changes.
whatever they used to be isn't a factor anymore. whatever they used to be starts to bleed into steve's fingertips against bare skin, feeling his heartbeat through paper thin veins like he's trying to remind himself that eddie made it. that he himself made sure that eddie made it.
eddie does know when that change happens, though. knows when they go from never touching to always touching. knows when it changes from the steve and eddie that are two separate thoughts to the steveandeddie that can only ever be said within the same breath.
it's just that he was so tired and steve was sitting on his ratty little twin bed in his ratty big city apartment and steve was safe. steve meant safe. steve was the hands that held him together in a nightmare world and the air in his lungs when he couldn't breathe on his own.
so it all seemed to make sense for him to crawl onto the bed, rucking up the well worn quilt that he stole from wayne under his bony knees, and settle his head onto the legs that carried him out of the upside down into a world where steve was a security blanket in and of himself.
and as eddie stared up at the ceiling with his curls draped over steve's lap, he felt when it all clicked. felt the thighs he was laying on tense and then fall, felt the hand holding crumpled magazine pages come to rest gently on his chest, palm covering his racing heart. but most of all he felt when steve looked at him, gaze landing on his face and covering him like a balm over a burn.
he looked back, because eddie always looks when steve needs him, and quickly realized he was steve's safe, too. eddie might not be sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe, but that doesn't matter. not anymore. not when eddie can be that for him, too. not when he can learn what steve needs and when he needs it. he's a joke when steve's mind starts spiraling. he's the loud of a shitty mixtape to make him smile as he sings off key when they drive. he's a hand in his hair, pulling him in to rest against his chest when there's bats and russian doctors and max's broken body clouding his vision.
eddie still crawls into his lap when he feels that bone tiredness pulling at his limbs. steve still shoves his face into eddie's chest when he has to clear away the ghosts hiding in his eyes. they still let their fingertips brush over pulse points when they need little reminders. and when they need to be wrapped up by each other, held together with hands that are gentle and unspoken promises, eddie knows they'll both go with open arms.
because they make each other feel loved, make each other feel real, make each other feel safe.
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revasserium · 3 months
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18 and 28 from promp list 1 with zayne? :>
send me a number + a character and i'll write u a drabble
18. afterglow + 28. cliche of the morning after (take two)
zayne; 1,209 words; fluff, fem!reader, zayn!branded banter, very very vague allusions to top!zayne, whipped!zayne
summary: the morning after, with zayne.
a/n: zayne is not so secretly a simp. no further comments at this time.
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It is often in the moments after, in the liquid exhale of skin on skin, the dissipating heat of body against body — this is when Zayne thinks he sees you most clearly. Faintly, he wonders if he could count every single point of contact between you — your ankles hooked over his (one), your calves pressed together (two), the delicate softness of your hip beneath his palm (three), the weight of your cheek pillowed on his arm (four).
He watches the moth-wing flutter of your lashes as your eyes flicker open to meet his, the petal-sweet spread of your smile as you crinkle your nose and lean in to bury your face in his chest with a groan.
“You’re staring again.”
Your voice is muffled; he feels it vibrating through his skin.
Zayne drops a kiss into your hair as he loops his arms around you.
“Am I not allowed?”
You shake your head, pressing ever closer even as he chuckles, letting his fingers trail through your silken hair, amusing himself with tugging on the ends.
“Feels weird.”
“Does it?” he asks.
You pull back to peer up at him, and he feels himself falling into the galaxies caught behind your eyes, and yes, isn’t it a cliche to fall for a girl like this? To compare her eyes to the light of distant stars, to find her shadow and shade in every flower petal, her voice in every rustle of tree branches, and the chiming of silver bells.
Yes, he thinks — it is.
But he has long since given up trying to rationalize the way you make him feel, ever since you were both children, and he’d imagined what it might feel to someday hold more of you than your hand.
Here, now — with your body pressed to his, Zayne can’t help but wonder at all the parts of you he’s always had — not the bare skin of your waist or the heat caught behind the line of your teeth but other things. The tiny scar on your right elbow (five), the curve of your knee hard against his own (six), the baby’s breath of hair at the nape of your neck that always curled and would never stay in braids the way you liked (seven) —
“Zayne?” your voice is small.
“Hm?”
“What are you thinking about? You look so serious.”
Zayne blinks. He wonders if he should tell you about his thoughts, about how there’s not a moment in the day when he’s not thinking about you. About how he wonders if you’re eating, sleeping, if you’re safe. About how sometimes it keeps him up at night when he thinks about the mortality rates of Hunters, of the unknown, unnamed dangers that await you out there, all the things he can’t protect you from.
He wonders if he should tell you that he spends too long thinking of you — of your body and the way it fits so perfectly inside his arms. Of how the last time he held you in his arms, it took everything in him to let you go, set you down on his office sofa, and watch you as your breaths evened out.
So he says, “Nothing…” so he says, “just… thinking about what to make for breakfast.”
He doesn’t tell you that he’s kept your favorite brand of toothpaste in his bathroom for the past several years, or how he’s always got a drawer full of clothes that he knows you like to wear tucked into his closet.
“Oh! What about pancakes? Or… French Toast?”
Your smile is bright and happy and Zayne can’t help the way he leans down to brush his lips against yours. He savors in the way you gasp and soften against him. He lingers too long on how the smooth of your leg slots so perfectly between his.
“Whichever you feel like more,” he says, pulling back to smile down at you, taking note of the brilliant blush that has since settled across your cheeks.
“What if… I say I want both?”
Zayne lets out a sigh, chuckling as he fixes you with a look.
Want. He wonders if you truly know the depths and width of wanting the way he does — and if you’d still want to stay when you did find out.
Instead, he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours, reaching up to cup your cheek in his palm.
“Then… I’ll make both.”
“Really?”
You sound too surprised, too pleased.
“But we’ll have to eat healthier for lunch and dinner.”
You crinkle your nose, “But we’ve been so healthy all week!”
Zayne watches you pout for a moment longer before he sighs and pulls back ever so slightly, casting his eyes at the ceiling, letting out a contemplative hum.
“Or, we can go to the gym.”
He knows exactly the face you’re making before he ever looks over to see you make it, and allows himself a small laugh.
“Ugh, you’re no fun.”
“No?” Zayne turns and you go still next to him, eyes wide as he pins you with a look. He watches with a muted satisfaction as color creeps into your cheeks and you blink, attempting to backtrack.
“That’s not — I mean —”
In a single move, he has you pinned beneath him, both your wrists caught in one of his hands, pinned above your head so that you’re stretched out beneath him. He watches as you tug weakly against his hold before going still, blinking up at him from beneath your thick lashes.
“Though…. I suppose there are other ways of burning calories that might be of more interest to you than going to the gym.”
He keeps his voice level, his expression blank. But he counts the quickening pace of your breath, and sees the darkening of your eyes as your pupils dilate.
“Z-Zayne…”
“Didn’t you say you wanted both pancakes and French Toast?” he leans down with a light smile, casually stroking a finger along the line of your cheek.
“Yes but —”
“But?”
You bite your lips, shifting beneath him. And like this, he can’t help the baser, more carnal parts of him as they threaten to take over his senses. Not with you spread out beneath him like this, so tantalizing in your willingness, so defiant and shy all at once.
“You’ll… really make both for me?”
Zayne almost laughs, nodding as he bends down to press a long kiss to your lips, groaning as your hips roll up into his at the sweep of his tongue along your teeth.
“If you’re good.”
You nod, eyes wide and already misted over, “I — I’ll be good.”
Zayne nods once before he tugs the rest of the blankets from you, letting the hunger crest up and through him as he coos by your ear —
“Good… that’s a good girl for me.”
He does end up making both pancakes and French Toast for you in the end. Though, by the time that happens, it’s much too far past noon for either of you to call it breakfast any longer.
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corollaservant · 14 days
Text
There’s just something about lanky men. (18+)
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You know, the type of man who’s scrawny, awkward and with a small ribcage (not from working out, genetics, you cuss). The one who doesn't put emphasis on his clothing, wearing whichever clean tshirt he can find, a pile of dirty clothes accumulating in his bedroom. The one who has water bottles, take out bags, cigarettes or weed papers and a nasty sink in his apartment. The one who has messy hair, tired eyes and cannot socialize for the life of him. The one who scratches his head, looks down awkwardly as he crosses his legs and sits weirdly on a chair. The type to never initiate a first move, friendship.. let’s not even talk about sex. There’s something about these men, you wouldn't call it a fetish, no, you don’t judge people by body types, that’s weird. It’s just that you notice a pattern here. Cause everytime you find these traits, you kind of guess their personality too. And maybe sometimes..you’re wrong.
They’re the same ones that will bend you in half, once they get the slightest hint you might be into them. The type to inexplicably know how to work their fingers in your little cunt, hell, you’d think they were pros in another life, the mastery in pace, roughness and multitasking is crazy here. These guys have you wet your panties like you can’t. By yourself. Alone. They kiss you while they’re at it too, don’t think they can’t do both. They kiss softly, open mouthed but desperately at the same time, kind of like they don’t want you to be able to breathe anymore. And… you can’t, but they don’t stop until you push their shoulders back, breathing through your nose isn't enough.
They’re the type to stay silent when you suck them off, concentrated and focused on your performance. They might bite their lips and hum softly, you’d think they don’t even like it even when you’re gagging down their whole length (palm included, as they’re large and girthy). Your throat aches and you haven’t even stopped the act and here they are silent and unappreciative, you might think. Well, you’re wrong. They appreciate it more than they let on. Do you know what it took for them to master this composure? Endless nights of jerking off just to the sight of your pretty pussy, cumming and cumming until they could build up some endurance. Mind you, they are talented but lack in the sexual experience department. Porn doesn’t get them off, they think it’s performative and staged, can’t get hard watching some poor woman fake moan and look at the camera, they think it’s embarrassing. No, instead they can easily picture you, with your legs spread and your pretty cunt glistening — anticipating their touch. Be it their skilled, slender fingers, their drooling mouth (yes, they drool inside) or their throbbing cock, they can’t get enough of your widened eyes and parted mouth and you can't stop silently begging just for a touch. And they cum, they aren’t too loud even when alone so imagine how much they try to stifle their moans when with you. You may have started deepthroating them, but their cock jerked the moment you ran your tongue down their shaft once, didn’t you notice it? They take it, you didn’t. They are close to cumming, they bite their tongue and can feel the metallic taste of blood their sinking teeth left, shit, they wouldn’t be able to taste you properly later on; they think and cuss instead of thinking the trouble they'll have swallowing down food. 
They quietly push you off, they really want to cum but these men are selfless. They don’t want to put anyone's pleasure above yours so they throw you on the bed. That’s where you were wrong too. You see them, a skeleton in clothes and think ‘’damn, this guy really is a loser’’..well, if he is, then he certainly is a strong one, these dudes have muscles you can’t even see and the rage that fuels them, makes up for it. They want to lick up a strip from your hole trickling down your left thigh, shit, they're so tempted, they might come on the mattress for all they care but their cock throbs when you ask them to fuck you instead.. if that's what you want, who are they to say no?
Their lanky chest presses against you, you can feel the pressure from their protruding bones on your skin, as they sigh, their sticky slit coming in contact with your also wet (soaked) entrance. They might just sigh but their brain is fighting a hard battle right now, to not cum just by the friction and the mess of fluids. Once you beg repeatedly (‘’please—baby, please!’’) and they can’t take it anymore, they awkwardly push the length past your folds, it slams in you violently as their sternum clashes onto you. You moan, it feels heavenly, a remarkable girth that stuffs you to the brim. They don't bottom out yet, you think fuck it, there's more? Oh sure, there is. They will shyly push more in, inch after inch, these men are NOT talkative but will make sure you are ok for good measure, wouldn't want you fainting or in pain due to their stupid cock. Little do they know, you want more and fast, but that's ok, whatever you order, they deliver. You can't tell, if they do it with skill or instinct but the thrusts are calculated and timed and they bring you close to an intense orgasm, they know it — they are observers, noticing the type and volume of moans that exit your mouth each time, that is why a slender pad of their finger is brought against your clit. They know how to hover and tilt their hips inside you simultaneously as they tease you. ‘’B–baby, oh my god.. please’’ you mewl, you shut your eyes and they’re close too. You just squeeze too damn much, whether you know it or not (they never tell you that they'd sell their soul to feel like this every day). Soon enough you're cumming, screaming loudly, only.. it's real with you, your body can’t lie and so can’t your eyes, glossy and ready to spill teardrops. These men will not be vocal (or at least they'll try not to be) but this is their breaking point, it's too much — you're too much and they finally whimper, not loud but just enough for you to hear as they let a big load inside you. They’re a deprived and awkward mess, that doesn't believe you would even bat them an eye, when you met them. Well, maybe it's their time to re-evaluate you.
(wrote this with surprise surprise.. Shiggy in mind but it suits others too)
L, Mello my man, black hair Dabi, Aizawa, Fyodor, Aku, literally anyone from Nana cast, who’s not a child and please! let me add Hobie Brown.
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ohmygs-blog · 2 months
Note
HELLO :0 ok but like what do the dreamies do when bae is clingy😔😔
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being clingy with the dreamies.
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amaya-writes · 2 years
Note
Happy 2k Amaya!! May I request for the event some fluffy Bakery AU reader x L Lawliet??
Event Masterlist About The Event
Notes: I sort of made this college-bakery au? it technically takes place when L and Light go to college but nothing about the actual anime is mentioned so L can just be a normal student or his actual self depending on your choice
Warnings: mentions of food
Characters involved: L Lawliet
Gender-neutral reader, you/yours
He was there again.
The mysterious raven-haired man who would occupy the back table at the bakery for the greater part of the afternoon as he poured over a laptop screen far too bright for someone with such deep eyebags.
His orders were always the same. Two sweets you would recommend paired with a steaming cup of coffee.
It had been months since he first walked through the bakery's door, but never once had you bothered to hold an actual conversation with him.
There was just something about his calm yet curious aura that had you dwelling close enough to offer a polite smile or two but never daring to do anything more.
Unlike others, he didn't seem to mind your hesitance to initiate conversation. If anything, he appreciated it.
You could see it in the hesitant way his lips would curve to create a small smile of approval every time he liked one of the new sweets presented to him.
In the way he would leave abnormally large tips on the days where the dessert was good enough for him to order a box full of them to take away instead of complimenting your creations just like so many others would.
At first, you couldn't help but find his mannerisms peculiar, but over time you had come to appreciate the quaint silence that accompanied his visits.
His name was Ryuzaki.
You thought the dramatic name was very unbecoming of a man so silent and mysterious as the one before you, but never once chose to question it as you accepted the credit card he offered you on a rainy day far too busy for anyone else to be present in your bakery.
This information was yet another thing you simply chose to add to your mental filing cabinet created solely for the mystery man before you.
It was accompanied by your knowledge that he was a college student from the dorms on the other side of the street, something you had to wait a month before figuring out once he pulled out a diary marked with the college's emblem.
He also seemed to have an affinity for all things monochrome and plain, so much so he would often crinkle his nose when presented with the rainbow-coloured delicacies you would design during pride events.
Yet Ryuzaki wasn't one to voice his concerns.
In fact, the only time you had ever heard him speak aside from his original order was the day you had forgotten to add two extra sugars to his coffee.
Perhaps that was why you were shocked to your core the second a soft yet affirmative voice drifted through your quaint little bakery.
"Do you like mysteries?"
If he wasn't the only other person in the store you wouldn't have thought twice before turning away and walking back to the counter to explore the source of the question.
But the lack of customers for the day had you quickly turning to the side to face a pair of abnormally wide eyes already staring at you.
It took you a moment to truly process his question, and another to quickly set down the coffee cup in your hands lest you risk dropping it in surprise.
"I suppose so-"
you allowed your gaze to flicker across his form and briefly dwell on the murder mystery novel clutched between his dainty finger before continuing.
"-they can be very fascinating."
Ryuzaki took a moment to analyze you, leaving no room for subtlety as his wide gaze lazily observed your form.
It was only when his silence started to get a little too awkward for your liking that the brunette spoke up again, this time with his voice holding a lilt of emotion you couldn't quite place.
"There's this new mystery movie at the theatres I was thinking of watching. Would you like to join me?"
It was your turn to take a moment of silence as you genuinely mulled over his proposal.
Sure, you had met Ryuzaki on a regular basis for the past two months, but he was as good as a stranger to you. Yet somehow, he made you feel a sense of comfort you often lacked when interacting with other males.
The bakery had been awfully slow as well, which meant you could get away with an early night.
That left only one question; what exactly were his intentions?
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
Normally people would shy away from such a direct confrontation, but not Ryuzaki. If anything, he seemed to appreciate your candour.
"Depends, are you saying yes?"
His coy response was all it took to quell your previous qualms, causing a small smile to tug on your lips as you began to walk away from his table.
"I get off at five."
"I was right."
You turned back at the sudden exclamation, uttering a response before you could think twice.
"About?"
"Your pastries are as sweet as you."
This time you couldn't help the giggle that slipped past your lips at his corny compliment, however, you were quick to retract your steps at the sound of the front door being pushed open.
"Five. Don't be late."
You turned away from him then, but there was no mistaking the silly smile painted across your lips for the next hour you spent behind the counter.
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atsuwumus · 3 months
Text
✴ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌
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๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : drops this on the dash and absolutely books it ₍₍ ᕕ(´◔⌓◔)ᕗ⁾⁾ will be making xavier & rafayel versions for this as well <333
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"Are we both really here for a movie?"
"If you get handsy with me, I'll have to get a little rough with you."
"Don't test my patience. I will not hesitate to punish you however I see fit."
"Lay back and play with her for me, let me see her. That pretty little cunt, she missed me, didn't she?"
"Someone's a little eager. Slow down, baby. Slow down. I'm not going anywhere."
"Don't you dare look away. Look at me. There you go. So you can follow instructions."
"Be a good girl for me, won't you?"
"It's cute how desperate you are. Those little noises you make, is it to spur me on? You poor thing, too bad I'll be taking my time with you tonight."
"On the bed, legs spread. Now."
"Touch me there again and I'll tie your hands, do you understand me?"
"Give me those hips. Ride me, baby. There you go."
"Bad girls get punished. Say it with me. Bad... Girls... Uh huh."
"You're gonna fuck me. And I'm gonna fuck you like you're mine, understand?"
"You're far too loud for my liking. Open up that pretty mouth of yours, let's give you something to suck on."
"I quite like you like this. Spread out, trembling and whimpering for me, you're so sensitive, too. I wish I could keep you like this all the time."
"Oh? You want to take control? By all means, go ahead. But we both know you'll just end up begging before the night is through."
"Poor thing, need Daddy to fuck you properly, don't you?"
"Stay still. I want to keep this picture in my mind forever."
"Messy girl. Wouldn't want any of my cum escaping you, would we?"
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endlessthxxghts · 3 months
Text
Full
Frankie Morales x afab!Reader
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Summary: You want Frankie to knock you up, and fuck, does he wants that, too. W/C: 1k. (I actually stuck to the word count this time… but at what insanely hot cost?😵‍💫) 18+ MDNI: Implied established relationship. Literally 0% plot and 100% PORN. Unprotected P in V sex. MAJOR BREEDING KINK. Cumming inside. Slight daddy kink (in the sense that you wanna make Frankie a daddy🫶🏼). One (1) pussy slap. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation kink. Finger fucking. Pics for aesthetic purposes only.
A/N: This lil drabble is a part of my 1k follower celebration in response to this yummy request made by @javierpena-inatacvest😵‍💫 Please take a deep breath and get comfortable while you read this… ANYWAY, happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!! What better way to celebrate than with Frankie and his breeding kink?😋 Hope you guys enjoy, and please do let me know what you guys think!!!! I love love love your feedback (or- in other words) !!!🤭
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG || 1K CELEBRATION
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“Fuck, Frankie…”
“Taking it so good, querida, fuck-”
“Please- shit- please, Frankie, don’t stop.”
“I’m not, baby,” he moans, eyes threatening to succumb to the back of his skull, “Not gonna fucking stop until you’re full of me, baby, yo prometo.” I promise. 
“Sh-shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, ohmygod-” your eyes clamp shut, your jaw hangs open, ass up in the air as your tears and drool soak the pillow beneath your face. 
Frankie speeds up, pummeling into you hard and fast, his large hands coasting the surface of your ass and your back, groaning at the way you twitch and writhe underneath him. His hands settle at your waist, gripping you tightly, accentuating the arch of you. He’s so fucking deep at this angle, you can feel him hitting your cervix with each thrust forward. It’s an addicting sensation right now—and it will be even later, when the dull ache overtakes you. “Give it to me,” he breathes, “cum all over my cock, querida, needa feel you.”
His hand snakes around to your front, the pad of his fingers meeting your clit, rubbing it in the perfect motion that sends you reeling. Fireworks—no, dynamite, explodes behind the dark of your eyelids, your head adopting that fuzzy feeling, your body following suit not long after. “So fucking good, you feel so fucking good, Frankie, oh my God- oh fuck-” you ramble partially incoherently. 
Your thighs are jello, unable to keep yourself up as Frankie continues fucking into you; his arm wraps around your middle, his other pawing at your breast. He pulls you up to be flush against his chest as he begs your alter for his own release. “I’m c- mierda- I’m close,” he whimpers right at your ear. 
Mustering up as much strength as you can, you twist your head to face him, your hand reaching up and rooting yourself at the back of his messy curls. You yank his head towards you, crashing his mouth against yours. It’s sloppy and wet, swallowing each other’s tongues whole as the thickness of your shared breaths melt into one. Breaking away with a bite to his kiss-swollen lower lip, you whisper into his mouth, “cum inside me, Frankie, please.”
“Baby-” he chokes, his hips speed up, arousing him beyond what he thought was possible. “Want you in me for days, Francisco,” you whimper, licking a stripe on his neck, collecting the salty liquid running down. His hand makes its way back to your throbbing bud. 
Your body goes lax in his hold, you secure your grip at the base of his neck, keeping your faces close to each other. He watches with heavy eyes as you struggle to keep your gaze on his, your brows furrowing slightly as your eyelids begin to flutter. “Need you-” you start, a throaty moan cutting you off. “Need you inside me- need you to fuck it so deep, baby,” you sob, “that it has no choice but to fucking take- fuck-”
Frankie’s heart stutters and his cock twitches. “Yeah?” he grits between his teeth. “Want me to fuck you full?” A particularly hard thrust sends you cross-eyed, your nails digging into his neck. “Want me to fucking get you pregnant right now, baby?” 
An appreciative little slap to your slippery clit jolts your eyes open, his lustful gaze with a hint of something more—like adoration, like pure devotion—stares you down. You pull him into you once more, a clash of spit and teeth and tongue—you can even taste a hint of your own arousal from when he ate you out before you were begging him to knock you up. “Please- fuck- yes, baby, yes- fucking- let me make you a daddy, baby, please- want you- need it- need you so fucking bad-”
Fuck. Frankie’s pace falters, his hips stammer as his orgasm consumes him—his cum painting your warm walls, filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, your hips thrusting backwards into him, and before you realize it, you’re cumming again, both your bottom halves an utter mess of each other’s arousal. 
Frankie softly slips from your heat, and you both hiss at the loss. He releases his hold on you, guiding you onto your back, his hands settling on the insides of your thighs to keep you open for him. His eyes can’t leave the way your pussy looks right now—completely fucked out, shiny with your slick, and filled with his cum. You feel it start to leak out of your hole, and you whine, the feeling so sensitive but dizzying, knowing you’re overflowing with Frankie. 
Before you know it, his fingers are collecting the dripping spend, bringing it back to your entrance, and slowly, his fingers enter you, the initial push inward causing more of his cum to seep out of you, but he’s quick to catch the leakage, pushing it back inside of you, where it needs to be. 
With one hand holding one thigh down and the other inside of your sex, Frankie’s entranced, starting up a delicious pace fucking into you with his fingers. You’re a moaning mess of curses mixed with his name, overstimulation taking over your body, but you don’t want him to stop. 
He couldn’t even if he tried. He’s too caught up in the notion that after this, his sperm could latch, and in nine months from now, you’d be big and round and glowing carrying the product of your love. Fuck, he needs this to work. He’ll fill you up every fucking day if that’s what it takes. 
He’s pulled from his trance when a heady moan roars from your throat, “F-fuck, fuck, Frankie, I’m gonna fucking cum again! Oh my god, baby- fuck-” 
His eyes are on your face: pure ecstasy, he’s seeing, in the way your head throws back into your pillow, only the white of your eyes showing, as the veins pop out your neck as you scream out in pleasure. 
He slides his fingers out, slick with a mixture of both of your arousal, and brings it up to your mouth. He knows how much you love to taste. 
Immediately you open up, lapping up your combined flavors greedily, a content, blissful smile plastered lazily on your face. 
“Am I full, baby?” You mumble. 
“So full, querida,” he whispers, laying his body over yours, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 
“Do you think…” you trail off softly, nervous. 
“I don’t know, mi amor,” he breathes, kissing your chest. “Guess we’ll just have to keep you full everyday until we can check, huh?” 
Your cheeks heat up, your exhausted pussy already fluttering in anticipation. “Y-yeah. I guess so.” 
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End note: LOLOL GUYS I, UH.. I REALLY WENT HARD ON THIS ONE, I'M SORRY BUT ALSO I'M NOT SORRY ASDFGFDFH PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK <3 YOUR GUYS' WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH Also how you doing, babe @javierpena-inatacvest?? You alive? Still with me?? I LOVE YOU AHAHAHAH
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prettyobsessed · 3 months
Text
⋆。⋆💋⋆ Lace & Desire ⋆ ゚❤️‍🔥 (HOT AF)
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☁︎/ pairings: Zayne / fem!reader ☾ / genre: smut [nsfw 18+, mdni] ₊˚ / tags: nsfw, super nsfw, no plot smut, mutual attraction, clit playing, masturbation, submissive y/n, dominant zayne, mentions of daddy, mentions of cum dumpster, mentions of slave, role-play, slightly/very rough sex, lots of teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, mouth job, hand job, kissing, clit stimulation, choking, lots of spanking, upstanding citizen position lol, creampie, cum inside, cum shot, mature sexual content ♡ / word count: 4.6k
 ₊⊹summary₊˚⊹
In her quiet apartment, the narrator decides to spice up the night by sending teasing photos to Zayne, igniting a thrilling game of seduction. As anticipation builds, she wonders how far he'll let her take it, knowing their quiet night will soon be electrified by their passionate tension. ﹌﹌﹌
‘Don't make me come there and punish you,’ he warned, igniting a thrilling rush of arousal within me. Zayne's challenge only served to heighten my excitement, and I responded with a final, enticing image—my back arched, showcasing my perky ass in all their glory. ‘56646. that’s my passcode. see you soon 😋’ I teased, unable to contain my anticipation.
𓍢ִ໋₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝⋆୧ ˙  As the clock ticked towards 9:38 PM on a Thursday night, the silence of my apartment seemed to amplify the dull ache of boredom settling in. With a sigh, I set aside my phone and glanced around the dimly lit room, the soft glow of lamplight casting long shadows across the walls. The stillness was palpable, broken only by the occasional distant rumble of passing cars outside.
Lost in the quietude, memories of Zayne flooded my mind—their intensity warming me from within. I couldn't shake the image of our passionate exchanges from a week ago, the heat of our desire lingering in the air like an intoxicating perfume. With a sudden spark of inspiration, I retrieved the new lingerie set I'd ordered online—a deep, lacey black ensemble that I knew would set Zayne's pulse racing.
Standing before the full-length mirror, I couldn't help but admire the way the lace hugged my curves, accentuating every contour with a tantalising allure. A mischievous thought danced at the edges of my consciousness—why not inject a little excitement into this mundane night? I knew Zayne's schedule like the back of my hand; no surgeries tonight, just a series of tedious meetings. The idea of inviting Zayne into my apartment, a space he'd never set foot in before, sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. We've only shared passionate moments in his space before, never mine. With a flicker of determination, I snapped a few provocative photos of myself in the lingerie and sent them off to Zayne, accompanied by a teasing message. 
‘busy?’, I texted, attaching a suggestive image of myself with legs parted. "miss you so much, daddy” I added playfully, anticipating his reaction. His response was swift, his words carrying a hint of authority and desire. ‘You can’t do this to me right now. I’m in a meeting.’ Undeterred, I escalated the teasing, sending another photo—this time, straddling a snowman plushie, a playful nod to our shared fantasies. 
‘Don't make me come there and punish you,’ he warned, igniting a thrilling rush of arousal within me. Zayne's challenge only served to heighten my excitement, and I responded with a final, enticing image—my back arched, showcasing my perky ass in all their glory. ‘56646. that’s my passcode. see you soon 😋’ I teased, unable to contain my anticipation.
I wanted to push his boundaries, to see how far he'd let me take this game of seduction. As the anticipation mounted, I couldn't help but wonder what Zayne's reaction would be. Would he succumb to the temptation, or would he resist my advances? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain—the quietude of this night was about to be shattered by the electrifying tension between us.
"Be a good girl and wait for me," Zayne's last text arrived, laden with promise, and I eagerly complied (or maybe not), my pulse racing with anticipation. In less than 30 minutes, I heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking, signalling Zayne's arrival. "Y/N…?" he called out my name, his voice tinged with anticipation. As he stepped into the room, his presence electrified the air, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Dressed in his signature black collared shirt and sleek work pants, both my weakness, I knew I would falter sooner or later. But as of now, I had a mission to complete—to make him needy enough to beg me.
Meanwhile, I reclined on the bed, eyes closed, fingers tracing lazy circles on the delicate fabric of my thong. Beneath its embrace, my clit throbbed with anticipation, eagerly awaiting Zayne's touch. With practiced finesse, I reached for the vibrator beside me, teasing myself with its arousing vibrations, each movement imbued with a sense of anticipation. The room felt charged with erotic tension, a prelude to the passionate encounter about to unfold. “I told you to wait for me, didn’t I?” Zayne's voice stood before me, shattering the silence. His words sending a thrill of excitement racing through me. “I’m going to punish you,” he declared, his tone heavy with desire as he made his way to the sofa in the corner, his eyes fixed on me with unwavering intensity.
As he settled into the seat, a surge of defiance stirred within me. I didn’t want him to simply watch—I wanted to tease him, to punish him for not giving me the attention I craved. With a determined resolve, I continued to pleasure myself with the vibrator, each flick of my wrist a deliberate invitation for him to join me in the throes of passion. But Zayne had other plans. “I’m not gonna do anything to you,” he stated, his words dripping with promise. “I’m just gonna sit here and watch you play with yourself.” The challenge in his voice only fuelled my desire further. Determined, I continued pleasuring myself with the vibrator, allowing him to witness my torment. I intensified my movements, each stroke of the vibrator against my clit sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
I could sense Zayne's gaze burning into me, his desire evident in the way he watched, but I refused to yield. I wanted him to go wild, to lose control and fuck me senselessly after this. The mere thought of his roughness, the way he might choke me while delivering spanks, drove me wild. I maintained the steady rhythm, circling my clit with the vibrator and moaning his name, intent on arousing him for the impending encounter. 
My legs parted slightly as I continued to pleasure myself. I then pulled my thong to the side so that I could feel my vibrator even more intensely on my clit. I noticed him staring intensely at me from the sofa, his eyes tracing every movement, every expression, every curve accentuated by my lingerie. I knew he wanted to badly fuck me in it. The anticipation of his desire fuelling my own, I felt on the brink of climax just from his gaze alone.
As Zayne stood mere feet away, his imposing presence filled the room. With my left hand, I cupped my breast, teasingly pinching my erect nipple, while my right hand gripped the vibrator, its buzzing against my clit driving me relentlessly toward the brink of ecstasy. Moaning his name, I met his gaze, revelling in the power of my own pleasure. Each stroke, each caress, heightened the tension, propelling me toward release.
Riding the wave of my orgasm, I continued to chant Zayne's name, eagerly anticipating his touch later. My body hummed with electricity as I pressed the vibrator against my clit, prolonging the blissful sensation.
After savouring the peak of my orgasm, I rose from the bed, my limbs still tingling with pleasure. With deliberate grace, I began to crawl towards him, each movement purposeful, my hips swaying in a mesmerising rhythm. The air crackled with anticipation as I closed the distance between us, my eyes locked on his with unwavering intensity.
Once near enough, my hands ventured forward, exploring the fabric of his pants with feather-light touches. Zayne's hands remained on the armrest, unmoving. The material beneath my fingertips felt smooth and inviting, heightening my senses as I traced the contours of his thighs, inching closer to the throbbing arousal that awaited me.
In a kneeling position, I slowly began to caress his clothed erection with my lips, each kiss a tantalising tease. I could feel the heat radiating from him, his desire palpable in the air. With each stroke of my tongue, I could sense his control slipping, his restraint waning as he surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure coursing through him. Zayne looked hot and bothered, his desire evident in the way he watched me, his breathing growing heavier with each passing moment.
“Are you sure you just wanna sit and watch me play with your dick all by myself?” I teased, a playful pout playing on my lips. He stayed seated, his gaze never wavering, his desire palpable in the air between us. “Unbuckle my pants,” he commanded, his voice filled with authority. I did as he asked without hesitation, maintaining eye contact with him as I unbuckled his pants. “Now take it out and lick it,” he instructed, his voice laced with anticipation. 
Each time my gaze fell upon his impressive member, I couldn't help but marvel at its sheer size and thickness, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through me. The anticipation of feeling him fill me up, stretching me to my limits, sent a thrill down my spine. With eager hands, I liberated his arousal from its confines, gently guiding it out from beneath the fabric of his pants. As I lowered his trousers for his comfort, I couldn't resist the urge to admire him fully exposed before me.
Coating his length with my saliva, I savoured the taste of him, relishing in the way he responded to my touch. His throbbing length stretched beyond the limits of my mouth, almost impossible to accommodate entirely. With each swirl of my tongue around his tip, his breath hitched in his throat, his desire evident in the intensity of his gaze. "You know how I like it sloppy. More spit," he demanded, his voice husky with need, his eyes dark with desire, urging me to indulge his every whim.
Following his commands, I coated his throbbing member with a liberal amount of saliva, my hand moving with purpose and urgency, driving him to the brink of ecstasy. "Yes, just like that, princess," he praised, his words dripping with desire, igniting a fiery need within me. The endearing term sent a rush of excitement coursing through me, amplifying my desire to please him in every way possible.
As I continued, I pushed myself beyond my limits, unable to stop gagging on his dick. His hands remained on the armrest, yet I could feel his reaction as I went deeper, my eyes rolling backward involuntarily. Zayne's response was palpable, a muttered 'fuck' slipping from his lips before he leaned forward, gently pulling my mouth away from his throbbing length.
With a sudden tug on my hair, he forced me to meet his gaze, his intensity heightened. "I can’t take it anymore, can't wait to mess you up," he whispered in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my neck. In response, I teased him playfully, biting my lower lip and meeting his gaze with a sultry look. "Why wait?"
He wasted no time, guiding my head to gag me with his dick once more, my eyes watery and drool cascading down my chin. “I love drooling on your cock,” I said to Zayne, the admission pushing him over the edge. With his patience wearing thin, he swiftly pulled up his pants before lifting me with practiced ease, settling me straddled on his lap. Purposeful strides carried us to the bed, where he positioned himself, and I found myself draped over his lap, anticipation pulsating with each passing second. Zayne's fingers trace intricate patterns over my clit, teasing and enticing me with each delicate touch. In the next instant, his hand shifts, grabbing my ass firmly before delivering a sharp spank that reverberates through the room, the sound echoing in the stillness.
The first sharp spank sent a jolt of ecstasy coursing through me, igniting an insatiable hunger. Suddenly, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind, and I decided to indulge in a bit of playful role-play, leveraging Zayne's profession as a doctor.
“I need more, Doctor Zayne” I pleaded while biting my lower lip, my voice dripping with desire— craving his touch like a potent drug. Zayne froze for a moment, his expression shifting from surprise to amusement. "This isn't covered by your insurance, y'know," he quipped, his tone playful yet commanding, before delivering another sharp but mighty spank on my ass.
I couldn't help but laugh at his response, the sound echoing in the room as I remained straddled over his lap, revelling in the playful banter between us. But then, in an instant, the mood shifted, and Zayne seamlessly reverted to his dominant stance, delivering another firm spank to my exposed flesh.
With each resounding spank, his voice low and commanding, he chastised me for my naughtiness, his words driving me to new heights of arousal. "So fucking naughty, pleasuring yourself in front of me," he growled, his hand delivering each punishing blow with precision. I squirmed beneath his touch, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me with each impact. “Sending me pics while I’m at work, you love it when I’m distracted, don’t you?” with each word, he punctuated his statement with another firm spank, the impact sending waves of pleasure rippling through me.
A swift strike from his left hand landed on my ass, the sting on my ass was met with a subtle tightening of his grip around my neck, sending a thrilling jolt of excitement coursing through me. Involuntarily, my back arched in response, an instinctive reaction to the sensation.
I moaned once more, gasping for air, my body wavering but my determination to take control unwavering. As I attempted to shift my body, aiming to use his broad shoulders to lift myself up and straddle Zayne on his lap, a surge of futile resistance washed over me. Zayne's grip remained unyielding, firmly in control. Despite my efforts to regain dominance, he held me firmly in his grasp, each spank serving as a sharp reminder of my transgressions. "Do you think you can get away with this?" he questioned, his tone dripping with dominance. "Making me lose control and expecting things to go your way?" Each word was punctuated by another sharp spank, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through me. With each impact, my ass bounced, fueling his desire to deliver more.
“Answer me,” he commands, tugging at my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. "No, daddy," I gasp, a shiver of anticipation coursing through me as another sharp spank lands, followed by his gentle touch to soothe the sting. “You’re going to do what I tell you, understood?” His voice is firm, demanding obedience. I nod eagerly, my body trembling with excitement and submission. 
Before delving into anything more extreme, Zayne reminded me to use our safe word if things went too far. I assured him that I would, eager to trust in our mutual boundaries.
"Lay on your back and spread for me," he ordered, and without hesitation, I complied. His commands were my guide, and I willingly surrendered to his desires. As I lay before him, legs wide open, he joined me on the bed, positioning himself to fully admire my exposed form. Zayne lifted my legs, hovering them over my stomach, his gaze fixated on my glistening clit, still hidden and wet beneath the fabric of the lingerie. 
With deliberate precision, he pushed the fabric of my thong aside, exposing my throbbing clit to his hungry gaze. Without a moment's hesitation, he delivered a powerful spank across my exposed flesh, the sensation simultaneously arousing and electrifying.
"That's what you get for distracting me,” he admonished, his hand returning to soothe the sting he had caused. Adjusting my position slightly, he seized my breasts, eliciting a sharp gasp as he pulled down my lingerie bra to pinch my nipples and deliver a punishing slap across my breasts and then to my clit. 
“That’s what you get for teasing me,” he growled, his touch alternating between punishment and pleasure, each sensation driving me closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each slap of his hand against my swollen clit, the intensity of my desire surged, propelled by the knowledge that I was at his mercy. And as he continued to tease and torment me, I surrendered completely to the intoxicating power of his dominance.
“And that,” he continued, his voice husky with desire, “is for tempting me beyond control.” With each stroke of his hand against my throbbing clit, I felt the tension coil tighter within me, aching for release. Tonight, I surrendered to the game, willingly becoming the one who begged for his touch, yearning to feel his every caress and penetration. The desire to taste him, to engulf his throbbing member in my mouth, consumed me entirely. In the depths of my being, I found solace in Zayne's dominance, reveling in his complete control over my body. It was as if I craved nothing more than to be his plaything, his puppet to manipulate at his whim, his slave to fulfill his every desire.
With one final slap on my clit, Zayne soothes it once more, eliciting a delicious blend of pleasure and pain that brought tears to my eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he removed my lingerie thong, each movement laden with anticipation. With a devilish grin, he tucked it into his pocket, a silent reminder of his control over me.
Then, with a hunger that matched my own, he descended on my clit, his tongue a fervent instrument of pleasure. He devoured it with an insatiable appetite, his movements precise and calculated. His tongue traced intricate patterns from my anus to my clit, and back again, each stroke sending electric waves of pleasure coursing through me. With each lick and suck, he coated my clit with his saliva, mingling with my arousal and heightening the intensity of the moment. And all the while, his unwavering gaze locked onto mine, a silent challenge that dared me to lose myself completely in the ecstasy of his touch.
But Zayne's hunger knew no bounds. With a growl of desire, he shifted his focus, using his tongue to fuck my pussy repeatedly, his movements rhythmic and relentless. Each thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through my body, driving me to the brink of madness as I surrendered completely to his skilled ministration.
With one final lick from him, I was sent hurtling over the edge, my release flooding over Zayne's tongue in a torrent of ecstasy. My body convulsed with pleasure, every nerve tingling with the intensity of the moment. Yet, Zayne continued to ride the wave of my orgasm, his tongue remaining firmly latched onto my pulsating pussy. The sensation was so intense that I couldn't help but arch my back in response, offering myself completely to the waves of pleasure crashing over me.
"Who said you could cum on my tongue?” Zayne's voice sliced through the air with authority. He seized my torso, forcing me to face him, my body now positioned on all fours. Still lost in the throes of my orgasm, I couldn't muster a response. His grip tightened around my neck, and with a sharp spank on my ass, he demanded again in a low, commanding voice, "Answer me."
Pouting and shaking my head, my eyes still watery from the overwhelming pleasure, I struggled to regain my composure. "N-no one," I gasped for air, my voice barely a whisper as I tried to come back from my high.
"So why did you?" Zayne's question dripped with dominance, his gaze piercing into my soul. "I'm sorry, daddy” I said in a playful, teasing manner, pouting my lips as I met his gaze. "I'm gonna make it up to you," I continued, leaning in to give him a small peck on the lips, my heart racing with anticipation of what was to come.
With each breath, the scent of his cologne mingled with the musky aroma of desire, intensifying the longing pooling in my core. 
I took a moment to reclaim my breath and composure, my eyes lingering on Zayne. The crisp lines of his black collared shirt and the snug fit of his work pants accentuated every contour of his masculine form, intensifying my desire and fuelling my determination to pleasure him even more.
Motivated by a surge of resolve, I pushed Zayne off the bed, compelling him to stand on the edge of it. Hastily, I seized the waistband of his pants, pulling them down to reveal his mighty erection in all its glory once again. Still positioned on all fours on the bed, I wasted no time in engulfing Zayne's throbbing member with my mouth, eagerly licking and sucking with fervour.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, I suckle and lick Zayne's throbbing shaft, my tongue tracing every vein and contour, coaxing moans of pleasure from deep within him. The taste of his skin, salty and intoxicating, dances across my senses, driving my hunger for him to new heights. As I lavish attention upon him, I allow my saliva to cascade down his length, glistening in the dim light of the room like liquid silk.
He gathers my hair into his firm grip, guiding it with care as I continue to lavish attention on his throbbing cock.
With each descent, I push myself to take him deeper, feeling the tension in his muscles as I brush against the back of my throat. The sensation of him stretching me, filling me, turning me on like never before. I embrace the gagging, the tightness, knowing that each vibration emanating from my mouth only serves to heighten his pleasure. 
Through it all, I remain attuned to his responses, the subtle shifts in his breathing and the way his body tenses beneath my touch. I revel in the power I hold over him, the control I wield with each flick of my tongue and gentle suck. In this moment, I am his ultimate source of pleasure, and I am determined to leave him trembling with satisfaction.
Zayne took a moment to deliver a sharp spank to my ass, heightening the intensity of the moment, before allowing me to continue drooling and licking eagerly over every inch of his pulsating member. “So fucking needy for me”, he remarked, his voice filled with both lust and dominance.
His breath hitched with each eager stroke of my tongue, his arousal palpable in the air. With his hand still firmly gripping my hair, Zayne guides me in syncopated rhythm, each motion synchronised with his eager thrusts. The sensation of his commanding touch and the rhythm of our movements fuel my desire to please him further, driving me to new heights of arousal and surrender. I swirled my tongue over every inch of his tip and length, tracing the contours of his throbbing cock. With each lick, I could feel the veins pulsating beneath my touch, a tangible sign of his arousal and my effect on him.
“I love your cock, I love it I love it I love it,” I murmured, taking a brief pause from sucking to express my admiration. Then, with a subtle hum of pleasure, I resumed, each moan vibrating through him and further intensifying the pleasure.
“Oh yeah?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. Suddenly, he shoved my entire head and mouth onto his hard erection, ramming it deep—causing me to choke and gag. Despite the overwhelming sensation, he knows my limits and where to draw the line. “Choke on this,” he commanded, his voice filled with authority. 
He withdrew his cock from my mouth and spat into it, the warm liquid mingling with my own saliva as he reclaimed his dominance—guiding his member deep into my mouth once more. For a few exhilarating seconds, he holds it there, allowing me to feel every pulsation, before withdrawing, leaving me gasping for air. Eyes watery, mouth drooling, I'm a trembling mess before Zayne, consumed by desire.
As my eyes roll backward from the intensity, the overwhelming sensation only heightens my craving for him, for the taste of his cock filling my mouth. I revel in the act of choking on his dick, each gasp for breath fuelling my arousal. My pussy throbs with need, aching for the feeling of him deep inside me. Zayne withdraws his dick from my mouth and then firmly grasps my cheeks, pulling my face close to his. His gaze pierces mine before claiming my lips with a hungry kiss. “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes against my lips, his words dripping with raw desire.
"Please, fuck me," I pleaded, meeting his gaze with desperation and desire.
"Why? You don’t need it. You can cum on your own," Zayne teased, his words laced with a hint of punishment for my earlier transgression—having an orgasm without waiting for him.
I begged him even more fervently.
"Mmm, beg me more. I kinda like it," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority. So I obeyed, my pleas growing more urgent. "Please, please, fuck me. I want to be your cum dumpster. I need your cock, Zayne. I need it inside of me,” I whimpered, my desperation palpable in evert word. My moans and pleas became increasingly frantic as my need for him grew more desperate.
The air crackled with tension as my words hung in the space between us.
Zayne moaned in response, his hunger evident as he caved in to my desire. With a commanding tone, he instructed me to remove my bra, and I complied without hesitation. Still on the bed before him, his erection throbbing with anticipation, he lifted me effortlessly from the bed, positioning me to straddle him. Facing each other, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the heat of his arousal against my skin. His arms and hands locked underneath my thighs, providing support as he carried me higher, his lips descending to suckle and tease my hardened nipples. The sensation was electrifying.
With a deliberate motion, he pressed me firmly against the wall near the bed, the cool surface contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from our bodies. As he slid his cock inside me, a wave of overwhelming sensation washed over me, rendering me breathless and powerless to resist. I moaned in response, my voice echoing in the room, as his movements grew increasingly fervent and needy.
With each thrust, he plunged deeper into me. My nails dug into his back, leaving half-moon imprints as I clung to him, lost in the intensity of the moment. I couldn't suppress my moans of pleasure, each one escaping my lips as I surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensation of his cock inside me. My hands found their way into Zayne's hair, tugging gently as I arched my back, offering myself completely to him. His lips found mine in a fevered kiss, our breath mingling as our bodies moved in perfect sync. I bounced on his cock, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour, the ecstasy building with each movement. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, I held back, waiting for him to reach the brink of release. "I'm close," Zayne gasped, his breath ragged as he continued to grip my body tightly, driving us both towards ecstasy. "I'm on a pill. I need that cum buried deep inside me," I whispered, my voice barely above a breathy plea. With those words, Zayne's control shattered, his climax erupting with a powerful release as he emptied himself inside me—his cock driving even deeper. And soon after, I climaxed too.
The sensation of his warm seed filling me sent me over the edge, my body convulsing in pleasure as I rode out the waves of ecstasy. I could feel every pulse of his release, a delicious warmth spreading through me, mingling with the throbbing heat of my own climax. Even as the intensity of our climaxes subsided, I remained insatiable, eager to prolong the connection and savour every moment of our passion. With each movement, I guided his still-throbbing cock back inside me, circling my hips to ensure every drop of his cum was pumped deep within. Our bodies moved in a synchronized dance of desire, the rhythm of our lovemaking echoing through the room.
Zayne's expression was a blend of ecstasy and dazed—almost incredulous, that I still had the energy to keep him in such a state of bliss. He then lifted me, his cum dripping from my pussy to the floor, leaving me feeling simultaneously full and empty without his cock inside me. Despite the overwhelming sensations, he maintained his firm grip underneath my thighs, refusing to let go. He buried his face in my breasts, still riding the high of our shared climax.
Still carrying me, he guided us back onto the bed with gentle guidance. As we lay intertwined on the bed, his heartbeat resonating against my skin—enveloping me in a comforting embrace. Zayne's care and tenderness washed over me like a soothing balm. With tender kisses, he traced a path along my neck and shoulders, each touch a soothing balm to the lingering sensations of our lovemaking. His lips whispered words of affection and reassurance, filling the room with a sense of warmth and intimacy.
I nestled closer to him, feeling the weight of his body against mine, grounding me in the present moment.
“Don't tease me like that again,” he murmured in a low tone, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. I couldn't resist teasing him further. "Or what? You gonna punish me again?" I retorted, a mischievous glint in my eye as excitement bubbled within me. Zayne's smirk only widened as he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers of anticipation down my spine. "Come on, let’s go shower," he suggested, his tone laced with promise. "I'll make sure you learn your lesson properly this time."
My heart raced with excitement at the prospect of another round of playfulness with him. "Second round?" I suggested eagerly, a playful grin spreading across my face. "Yes, sirrrrr."
—by prettyobsessed⋆˚✿˖° 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚♡
Editor’s note: i saw a meme on reddit and some parts were inspired by it 😀 also, i actually wanted to name this piece 'Midnight Tease' but ultimately chose Lace & Desire instead. What do you think? :) hope you enjoyed this one! ♡
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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 3 months
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The word 'obsession' is a mild word if it's referring to him but it's the only word that can describe what he feels on an everyday basis. What he feels is beyond worldly tags on feelings and emotions, words are just words afterall and words always falls short.
He loves, he hates, he adores, he loathes, he swoons, he has the very impulsive thought of killing you with his own hands while he watches the life leave your eyes, he wants to hold you close and never want to see the light burn out in your eyes, he doesn't know what he wants when it comes to you but in the end, it's all words- he'll truly never be able to tell you how he feels.
Despite the constant conflict of emotions in him, he never thought of letting you go. That's not even a choice, the words itself has a meaning in his dictionary, sure but when it comes together? It's a sham of a word, a phrase to be precise, a crude mockery to be exact. It's a sentence that doesn't make sense nor should it make sense because why would he ever do that? He loves you, He hates you.
It's confusing really, he loves you to the point that he can kill you. Obsession? A mild word as stated before, the want on keeping you locked up all for him is always in conflict with the want on taking you around the world and spoiling you rotten, allowing you to be free and flourish rather than caged and wither but- there will always be a 'but' since all he wants is to do both, the former and the latter. Both sounds so good, he can't really decide. Until then, you can live your life without the knowledge of turmoil in him, enjoy it while you can.
But maybe one day, he'll finally snap. Snap and make his final decision on what he wants to do with you and your life, make the final decision on how you're gonna spend the rest of your life or maybe he'll come to a realization, the truth of it all in a poetic sense.
He hates the fact that he loves you or he loves the fact that you hate him, No in-between.
He loves you enough to possibly kill you. A bad ending of a sort or a mercy in a twisted sort of way, It's all upto you in the end.
Love could kill? Words always falls short but for him, those three words means more to him than 'I love you' or any of those other 3 words squashed together to make a phrase. Love can kill and it means literally but only if you're referring to him, that is.
He just loves you enough to kill you.
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Characters when they go Yandere! Lol? I felt poetic and a tad bit lazy to write anything else.
Applies to :
Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Chrollo, Feitan, Hisoka, Illumi, Dabi, Nagumo, L
Im out of characters but who do you think this could apply to?
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