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#he's so dedicated ♡
grisshound · 1 year
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his tattoos are really all in just the most painful places possible huh
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benkeibear · 10 months
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To the anon(s) reminding me daily that Megumi is a minor and I'm disgusting to write for him.
Megumi is born in 2002 according to information. If my brain isn't failing me completely that makes him 20/21 years old this year. :))
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sskk-manifesto · 20 days
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#Wow. Okay ♡#I love this episode. The animation is flawless. The drawings quality is out of the world for real.#I love this episode so much I'm so grateful so much care and dedication went to this sskk centered episode.#(Refraining to talk about what 5x03 could have been)#Sorry for repeating myself but seriously the illustrations this episode are so so pretty.#I rarely appreciate how Akutagawa is drawn in the anime but when it comes with this episode I really like how he looks too.#And Atsushi that I already like a lot in the anime on average‚ this episode is just fabulous. Handsome even.#Seriously I don't know who the animators are but I want to kiss them. This art style is one I dare say I like even more than Dead Apple–#that although is obviously more detailed is just... In comparison too rough for my personal taste?#The art style for this episode is very delicate and soft and I love it tons#And the directing is just great. No weird pacing or awkward ost choice. It's neat.#The reiterated placing ss/kk on opposite sides is neat. The lightening is likeable and especially the purple scene is super pretty.#The “don't compare me to him” scene is neat. The ss/kk final scene is AMAZING. It's gorgeous and stunning and awestriking and every other–#epitome in the world. It's like the only scene I believe turned out better in the anime that it is in the manga which is saying SO MUCH.#But it's really that good!!!!! My favourite anime ss/kk scene ever.#Aaaaaahhh please let me talk about it forever it's sooo pretty and especially poignant...#The heaven-like soft yellow light and how it contrasts with the bleak stormy background. But especially their softening features...#Man that scene. okay. Akutagawa's quiet surprise!!!! That scene is. Idk. Unfortunately chapter 88 exists–#but it's nearly the most romantic thing ever.#I'll leave it at this. It's not like the bsd animation suddenly became a masterpiece and this is still an episode–#I would say I like less than my least liked k/l/k episode (Trigger animation my beloved). But in comparison with the rest of the anime–#It's really bsd anime at its peak#random rambles#Aah peoples btw I'm probably going to spam ss/kk‚‚‚‚ a lot today. Apologies in advance unfollow me now etc. etc.
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sbc-moved · 2 months
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Hmmnbmmmmmm. I have some things to say
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thesilverlock · 7 months
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Little known fact; October is the big anniversary month of my other big OTP 💜 The antihero parenthesis-questionmark couple. Art block / style crises hit hard in the past three weeks, but I managed to doodle a smol for them.
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salsflore · 9 months
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a
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fukashiin · 1 year
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Imagine unrequited love with jade……
Or Broke up with Jade…..
Jesus christ im tearing up—
shrimp anon snap out of it DTOP IT
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zarameraki · 5 months
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♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you
: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
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Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  
You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.
"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 
Please cut your tongue off. 
Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 
“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."
“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 
“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 
Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.
Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.
"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"
Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.
"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.
"An intern's birthday."
"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"
"July third."
Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."
“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 
"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."
Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 
"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 
“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 
“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"
Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”
“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  
You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.
“Well?” Nanami prompted. 
"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”
Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."
Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"
"Yes."
“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.
"What do you mean 'why'?"
His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"
"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.
"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"
"Mr. Nan—"
"You are being scammed." 
Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 
But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.
He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.
Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.
With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”
Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 
You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.
What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.
During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.
Toji never showed up.
You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.
The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 
With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.
The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.
As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.
At least that was free. 
Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 
The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.
A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.
“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”
“Good night.”
With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 
You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 
You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.
Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!
Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 
“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 
He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 
A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."
“Factually speaking, it is white.” 
You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 
“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 
You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.
"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"
Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.
A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 
You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 
Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.
Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.
And you kissed him back just as needy.
If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.
You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.
Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.
Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.
“I'm gonna—”
“I should—”
Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.
“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.
“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”
“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 
“Night-night.” 
Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 
Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—
A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.
"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.
That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.
The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 
The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.
With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 
Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 
As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 
Anxiety surged through you in an instant.
Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?
A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.
It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—
“Good evening.” 
“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.
But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.
You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.
"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.
Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"
“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 
“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 
"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.
“Do your parents live here?” 
You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 
“I apologize.” 
"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”
Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 
“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 
“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 
Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 
“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 
Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"
"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."
Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 
“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 
And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.
"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 
“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 
Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.
Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 
"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."
“What?” 
Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."
Oh, my. 
Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 
He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."
At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.
Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.
You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.
As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 
“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 
“Yes, darling?” 
Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” 
“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”
Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 
“No,” he said. 
You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 
“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."
"Kento—"
"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."
You could explode. 
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 
As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.
Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 
When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 
Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 
The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 
The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 
He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 
“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 
“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 
Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 
“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 
Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.
"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."
All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 
Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."
"What is it?"
Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.
As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.
Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”
"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.
“Y/N.” 
“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 
“Y/N.” 
“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 
He surrendered instantly. 
Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 
You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.
At least, you were both Team Cats.
Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.
Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."
Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.
The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.
So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.
"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.
"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 
Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 
You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."
"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.
You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."
Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."
“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.
“Come on now.” 
You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.
Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.
He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 
As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 
“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 
Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.
“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 
“I own the building.” 
Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.
The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.
“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 
“Yes, it seems so.”
Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 
Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 
“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 
“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 
"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"
"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.
But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 
“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 
“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"
"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.
"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"
He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.
"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"
Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 
You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"
Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."
As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.
Oh, God. 
You loved him. 
You loved him so much.
Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 
“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 
Your breath hitched. “What?” 
“Move in with me.” 
“Kento—”
“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."
Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.
Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.
7K notes · View notes
sirenscriptures · 6 months
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princess treatment - mw2 men
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✧ synopsis: men who secretly (or not so secretly) live for treating you like royalty. even in the most mundane or difficult of times, you are their personal sanctuary.
۶♡ৎ featuring: johnny “soap” mactavish, simon “ghost” riley, captain john price, alejandro vargas, and könig.
before you read: female reader, sub reader, lots and lots of body worship, praise, soft sex, a little dacryphilia if u squint, breeding, cockwarming, cunnilingus, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex, use of pet/endearment names.
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۶♡ৎ johnny “soap” mactavish ۶♡ৎ
✧ if there’s a man who is never ashamed to spoil you in any way he can, it’s johnny. ever since you two made it official he was all over the idea of showing you off and spoiling you to no end.
✧ outside of combat and missions, you can bet he dedicates so much of his time to you–his sweet girl.
✧ god help you if he comes home from a longer mission. you will not be able to pry him away from you for days. it’s not like you mind at all, though. his kisses are everything you wanted, so weighted and passionate, and he’s not even fully through the threshold of the front door when he first sees you again.
✧ his hands are already nestled in your hair, pressing your back against the wall as his tongue slips into your mouth. with his warm breath tickling your mouth, you can’t help but let out one of the sweetest whimpers he’s ever heard. god, it never fully occurred to him how much he loved to make you whine for him.
✧ “oh banphrionsa…” he murmurs, lips moving down to your sensitive neck. “i missed you.”
✧ “i missed you, too…” you stammer out feebly, the heat rising within your cheeks. your already flustered expression sparks a familiar fire within him as he moves you into his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom.
✧ it doesn’t take much to get you both out of your clothes, yet johnny still can’t get over how good you look. every time he gets to see you like this, it doesn’t matter how many times, he still gets so excited over it.
✧ “shit, baby…” he murmurs, peppering kisses on your upper body as he climbs on top of you. “you make me so crazy, y’know that?”
✧ nodding, you can’t help but give him that flirty smile that he loves so much. his lips crash onto yours again, tongue relishing the taste of your mouth. meanwhile, his hands are admiring your bare body as if you’re a rare jewel.
✧ even when just kissing you, it’s clear soap adores you in every way possible. it’s evident in the way he touches, kisses, and fucks you. he never wastes a single moment with you, and is always making sure you know just how special you are.
✧ even in between thrusts, his hands and words always ensure you’re reminded that you’re his special girl—his princess. the feeling of him stretching out your walls as he continually praises you is enough to draw you to tears—from both overstimulation and emotion.
✧ when he can tell you’re close to an orgasm, he pulls you closer into him even more, thrusts going deeper and deeper each moment. “i love you so much, sweetheart.” he groans, seed sputtering inside of you as your back arches against his chest, the sweetest moans flowing from your lips as you finish along with him.
۶♡ৎ simon “ghost” riley ۶♡ৎ
✧ for someone so reserved as simon, it was no surprise how much he valued your time alone together.
✧ in the past, he really preferred to be by himself when he had the time to spare. he always felt most himself when he wasn’t around too many people. but over time, it became natural that you were with him in these moments that brought him great peace.
✧ but past all things missions and duty, he deeply cherished when he got to be home alone with you. that way, he felt completely devoted to treating you the way you always deserved: like royalty.
✧ well, his version of royalty in this sense was a bit different than the conventional meaning of the term. but, in true simon fashion, it was quite fitting. and plus, he knew you loved it.
✧ the way he held you so perfectly in front of the mirror, hands caressing your body as his cock plunged in and out of you, he made sure you felt within every inch that you were all his.
✧ with your walls fluttering around him, you made it so much harder for him to hold back. simon knew you felt the same, the way your breaths depleted to mere shudders, your eyes glazing over with the faintest hint of tears.
✧ gently, his hand cupped under your chin, making you stare at your delicate frame against his broad chest. “now, now, sweet girl…” he purrs, breath tingling on your neck.
✧ “i can’t have you breaking on me now, can i?” his slightly raspy tone is loving, yet teasing you at the same time as a calloused thumb swipes away a tear streaking down your cheek. simon has always hated seeing you cry, but when he can make you cry from pure pleasure, you can bet that makes him feel on top of the world.
✧ “i need you to see how pretty you are, love.” you don’t even have to see his full face to feel his smirk against you. not even his full coverage mask could hide that from you on his best day.
✧ there is a sense of pride in his gaze as he looks at you through your reflection. with his hand under your chin, your expression is absolutely priceless. your glassed-over, desperate eyes practically plead for more, and your kiss-swollen lips are still as irresistible as ever. he can’t hide how proud he is that he’s made a mess of you–his sweet girl.
✧ “there you are, princess.” he teases, watching you stare at yourself in a daze. his thrusts are slow in and out of you as a free hand rubs and pinches at your nipples. your head falls back onto his shoulder, another broken moan falling from your agape mouth. simon feels you clenching around him again, the feeling earning a growl from him.
✧ but still, his thrusts remain tender and slow, ensuring you feel every part of him. as much as he’d love to ravage you with rough, fast thrusts, he loves your reactions to his deep, slow pace far too much in this moment. plus, this was all about your pleasure.
✧ it isn’t long before his warm seed is ribboning inside you, eventually dribbling down your quivering thighs as your orgasm joins with his own. your noises are so sweet, something he can never get enough of. and the look of you is enough to make him fall in love with you thousands of times over.
✧ he smiles at you, lips colliding messily with yours, admiring how warm your face is as he holds you. “you did so well for me,” he murmurs, breathing in your comforting scent. “my pretty girl.”
۶♡ৎ john price ۶♡ৎ
✧ believe it or not, captain price could be quite the romantic type. though, as a man with such a stoic position as a captain, that side never got much of a chance to reveal itself. unless, of course, he was alone with his favorite woman in the world…
✧ getting to see him in such a rare position felt so special to you. he was so sweet and gentle with you, it always found a way to make you swoon. and you bet price adored having that effect over you.
✧ the fact his mere touch could make you melt beneath him was enthralling, and definitely made him want more. of course, what better way to do that than to spoil you, right? after all, that was his favorite thing to do when he had his time with you.
✧ but it was his absolute favorite when he could be in between your legs, and he could stay there for hours. the feeling of you squirming beneath him had so many ways of making him feral for you, and he knew you loved it when he got to that point.
✧ while his tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, he could feel your hips bucking into his face ever so slightly, your noises growing louder each moment. you could hardly contain yourself any longer, and price adored every second of it.
✧ every few minutes, he would lay sweet kisses over your folds, fingers teasing your entrance from time to time. “sweetheart, you have no idea the things you do to me…” he breathes out, suckling at the sensitive bud again.
✧ your back starts to arch at his words, hands gripping tightly at the sheets. price lets out a satisfied chuckle as his fingers finally push inside your wetness. the feeling of your walls is just as he expects: heavenly. you’re so warm and welcoming to his fingers, it's almost hard for him not to push himself into you as a whole right then and there.
✧ “close already, yeah?” he teases, mouth still working at you, his fingers doing the same. the look in your eye confirms that for him, making his blood rush with excitement as your bottom lip hooks beneath your teeth.
✧ he smirks at you from between your legs. “well, allow me to help with that, angel.” price let his fingers curl inside of you towards your sweet spot, earning a strangled cry from you, your back arching even more.
✧ as his tongue slithered about your wetness, he marveled at the way you tightened around his fingers, especially when you released yourself. you sounded so sweet, and he couldn’t deny he wanted more of that from you.
✧ his lips finally met with yours, pulling your body close to his again. though, he was nowhere near done with you, he knew he wanted to admire you in this pleasure-filled haze just a bit more…
۶♡ৎ alejandro vargas ۶♡ৎ
✧ despite his roughened, at times crass exterior, alejandro had no problem showing his soft, vulnerable side to you and only you. he seldom ever let that gentle side slip outwards in front of just anybody, so you considered yourself lucky to have grown this close to him.
✧ besides, nothing could ever beat having those hypnotic dark eyes and that charming smile of his directed at you, and only you.
✧ but there was something about that certain…look you gave him in these moments that filled him with an endless desire to please you and spoil your body in so many different ways. it was that sweet, almost innocent look with a small lip bite that could make him fold you over in a matter of seconds.
✧ one thing about alejandro is that he preferred when he could take his time with you. he was the last one who wanted a quickie or something short. if he was going to pleasure his love, he was going to make sure you felt it.
✧ so when he has you sprawled out on the bed, cockwarming him as he caresses every inch of you, he can’t help but tease you just a bit from time to time. your whole body responds to him so perfectly, it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. can you really blame him?
✧ “ale…” you mewl out shakily, the feeling of his lips on your neck nearly pushing you over the edge. he smirks at you, hands continuing to massage your breasts. “hmm?” he hums against your skin, still leaving pretty marks all over you.
✧ you can barely even form words in this state. “mmmh, need you…” you stagger, breath hitching as his tongue starts to swirl around your protruding nipple.
✧ “you need to use your words, mi vida.” he presses a kiss to your neck again, taking you by the chin gently so he can stare at you properly. “what do you need from me?”
✧ alejandro’s gaze is soft yet still commanding, easily sending a shiver down your back. you take a breath, cupping his face in your hand. “i…need you to fuck me, please.” you manage, that sweet look that drove him feral still in your eyes.
✧ his lips press messily against you, a hand wrapping around your neck now. “que educada, princesa.” he chuckles, admiring how you tremble beneath him as he starts to move.
✧ his growls only add to your pleasure as he pushes deep inside you, your walls responding with a warm clench, making his grip on your hips tighter. you can feel your orgasm growing closer, moans growing shaky and incoherent.
✧ listening to his name fall so shattered from your lips pushed him over the edge, cum spilling into you as he watched in awe as your legs trembled and you clenched around him a final time.
✧ between warm, breathless kisses, he smiles at you again. “you’re so good to me, amor.” he says, pulling you close to his chest.
۶♡ৎ könig ۶♡ৎ
✧ in all honesty, könig has no idea how he got so lucky to have you. you were everything and more he could’ve ever asked for in a woman.
✧ even though he was far from inexperienced in the world of relationships and intimacy, you had a way of making him feel like it was the first time in every moment he got to spend with you.
✧ but some of his favorite moments came from when he got to spoil you. it didn’t matter if it was taking a lazy day where you stayed home or in bed for hours in the late morning, or if he was taking you out to one of your favorite places, as long as he was in your company, he was more than content.
✧ but if he had to pick an absolute favorite pastime with you… it had to be when he was able to worship you from head to toe.
✧ there was something so enthralling for both of you, having such a large man, in nothing but his boxers, on his knees in front of you, kissing every single inch of you as you sat on the bed, staring down in admiration.
✧ könig’s gentle expression as he looks up at you still has the power to give you butterflies even after being together for so long. the closer his mouth gets to the fabric of your underwear, he gives you a look until you eventually nod, making his lips spread into a smile.
✧ peeling the fabric to the side, his tongue swirls over your wetness. your back arches in response, head falling back as you let a moan escape. hearing you in this state drives him even further, pulling you by your hips against his face.
✧ even when you’re trembling, he continues. your moans have broken down to shaky sobs as he tonguefucks you, his growls vibrating against you. he can’t get enough of your taste, even when you’ve already come for him.
✧ eventually, he pulls away, licking his lips before kissing a trail up your stomach. his eyes stare into yours lovingly, fingers running through your hair.
✧ “you did so well, meine liebe.” he praises, kissing your neck before smirking. “but i’m nowhere near done with you.”
“banphrionsa” = princess, “mi vida” = my life, “que educada, princesa.” = how polite, princess. “meine liebe” = my love.
written by sirenscriptures. do not repost on any other website. do not translate, copy, or use.
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wrioluvr · 5 months
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dr ratio x top male reader
this idea came to me in a dream..... dr ratio it seems i've grown quite fond of you. nsfw, gets wholesome at the end
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"see, dear, if you insert your cock in me at exactly 67 degrees to the right, we'll both feel the maximum amount of pleasure." dr ratio says confidently as he precisely adjusts your tip at his entrance to his desired position. "are... are you sure?" you can't help but stare incredulously as he treats your cock like it's a mathematical instrument. "don't be silly. i'm always right." lying beneath you, he finally finishes calibrating the angle he wants you to fuck him in. "okay. put it in me now!" he declares triumphantly, clearly proud of his own work. you can't help but shake your head fondly at his antics, his dedication to using his intelligence to "optimise" every situation was rather.... silly sometimes. nevertheless, you push into him slowly, enjoying the sound of him trying the stifle his moan at the feeling of your cock stretching his tight walls. "s-see. i told you so- mmph." his pride meant he'd completely deny this in front of anyone else, the way you'd fucked him like a whore, thrusting in and out of him at "the optimal speed" (according to him), but in private, you were the only one who he wanted to please. increasing your speed of your thrusts without warning, you can't help but smirk at the way he bucks his hips into you, legs shaking and hole clenching even tighter. "you idiot! i told you to follow the speed-" he starts to protest, but he's quickly quietened by your hand over his mouth as you lean forward and whisper lowly to his ear. "you talk too much, baby." he shudders at your words. "need some....stern teaching?" despite the intimacy of the situation, you have to try not to laugh as you repurpose the conversation you had a few days ago to rile him up. hearing you use his own words to tease him, he glares at you, but can't get any words out as his mind is so focused on being pummelled by your cock. it's so pathetic, he thinks to himself. usually his brain is so busy, endlessly pondering, but now he can't think of anything but the way you're fucking him. "shit...i'm gonna cum..." you breathe out as you hold his hips, almost reaching your limit. "do it in me." he says sharply, his attitude coming back in an instant. you have no choice but to oblige, pumping him full as the both of you climax. the two of you collapse onto the bed, a heap of sweaty bodies and unspoken affections. you lie on his chest as he strokes your hair, trying to catch your breath. "well done. plus 10 points." "what the fuck are you saying??" you laugh as you throw the pillow at him. "nothing... just talking to myself." "weirdo."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"you know, you might be an idiot, but you're my idiot." he suddenly says, looking back as you soap his hair in your shared bath, cleaning up from your intense session earlier. his words carry a level of warmth to them despite their bluntness, a warmth he'd never give to anyone else. "stop calling me an idiot." you pout, leaning forward to smack him on the head playfully. "i'm serious! don't worry your pretty head about anything, i can do more than enough thinking for the both of us." you place your arms around him and hug him from the back in a tight embrace, the warm water surrounding you only adding to the romantic atmopshere. "whatever you say, veritas." ♡
omg i based his personality completely off his leaked voicelines and tried to incorporate some of them here hfgdhgd
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sgtgarricks · 3 months
Text
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ your gentle hands are enough
simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst kinda?, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, praise kink, creampie!!, reader referred as 'pet' like twice, smut with sadness, hurt/kinda comfort, mention of johnny's death, simon is scared of commitment :(, we still love him.
reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3
NEXT PART (HEA): i want your hands on me for all my life
notes: my first ever fic that i'm posting on this site !! feedback is appreciated ♡ dedicated to @rowarn for being lovely and entertaining my rambles!
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You and Simon weren't exactly dating.
He visits you almost every night whenever he's in the city and he's always gone before you're out of bed. But you relish on the rare occasions that you're awake before him — the moments you get to brush your hand through the raised scars littered all across his face, the moments you get to tangle your fingers in his hair to hear his little grunts.
Simon Riley has rough hands, scarred and calloused from years in the battlefield. Yet when those hands are caressing your body softly, you know he's being unnecessarily gentle to not let you feel the roughness in his hands — as if he was trying to prevent all the hurt and pain he's inflicted with his fists from bleeding into you.
You pretend to have only just woken up, eyes blinking slowly trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.
"Morning, Si."
"G'morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?" He places a warm palm on your hip, not fulling resting the weight of it.
"I always do when you're here." You raised your hand to his chest and feel his heart thumping steadily below you. His body always runs hot no matter the weather and it makes you nuzzle into him more during the bleak winter.
Silence engulfs the two of you, lulling you into a vulnerable state of bliss as you recall the events of last night.
You had barely opened the door for him last night before his hands were all over you, lips crashing onto yours as he kissed you with desperation. Strong hands working swiftly to remove your clothes gently as he pushed you towards the bedroom.
Simon was always gentle with you, but you've been with him long enough to know the difference between him missing you and him scared at the thought of missing you.
Instead of gently laying you down on the plush mattress, he pushed you with a little bit of force than usual.
"Simon!" You yelp. You must've been too distracted by him to fully notice that he was now fully naked below you.
He had a glint in his eye that let you know you were not going to be able to rest until he coaxed multiple orgasms from you.
His hand was constantly on your body, not wanting to go for a second without feeling your skin under his. Greedy kisses were peppered all across your collarbone that were now marked with the imprint of his teeth.
You knew Simon was trying to memorize every inch of your body, leave his marks on you because he was going to go back on deployment soon.
This realization is what snaps you out of your peaceful reverie. That your Simon is going to leave you soon.
The mere thought of having to see him leave your apartment in a few hours and not getting to see him for another week? Months?
It leaves a sour taste in your mouth that made you frown and turn your head away.
Simon, ever so vigilant, notices your downturned lips. He cups your chin and swivels it to face him. He nudges his nose with yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
You hate that he was playing dumb. Hates that he thinks you don't know his antics by now. Hates that he thinks you don't know him by now.
"You know why, Si." Pushing your hands on the plush bed, you rest your back on the headboard. You stare at Simon disapprovingly, upset that he's trying to pretend everything is fine.
He sighs heavily and run his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.
"How do you know?" He finally lets out, still laying down on his side staring up at you.
You scoff at him. Maybe because you've seen him through his highs-and-lows. You've seen his little smirk at your antics. Listened to his stories intently as he fondly recalls memories with his squad mates.
But you've also seen him coming to you bloody, battered, bruised, and shaking as you stitched his back. You've seen him scare himself awake at night, dreaming about the last time he saw Johnny.
He chuckles when you stare at him pointedly and finally sits up. He waits for you to stop sulking for a few minutes, before sighing once more.
The bed creaks with his weight as he tries to stand up from it, turning towards the window. You know what's coming next and you are fully aware there's nothing you can do to stop him from going on deployment.
What you can do, is at least try to make him stay a little bit longer.
You crawl forward from your position, throwing both your arms around his wide torso — at least try to, he's way too wide for you to fully engulf him in your arms.
"Don't go."
Your lips are pressed against his back as you softly plead with him to not go. Simon takes both your arms in his hands and angles his upper body towards you. Slowly, you move up from your sprawled-out position and kneel in front of him.
"Please." You slowly pull away your arms from his grip. He reluctantly lets you go before you slowly wrap them behind his neck. You inch closer to him, slowly leaning down and kissing his neck.
Simon moans languidly, still groggy.
"You play dirty, love." He cups your behind, angling his neck upwards to give you more access.
"You love it."
"Being cheeky, are you?" You grin against his neck, biting down softly. Arching your neck subtly as Simon tugged on your hair.
These were truly the moments you truly enjoy the most. Not that you don't enjoy sleeping with him, you definitely do. But being able to love him freely in the daylight made it much more intimate.
You suspect it's why Simon always tried his best to leave before the sun came up.
You know Simon loves you, albeit in his own unique way. He's never been nothing but kind and gentle to you, always making sure you feel safe and taken care of with him. From locking your door with the spare key he has after he leaves, to making sure to take care of you after having sex — always gets up to clean any messes he had left on your body with gentle wipes and ending it with a soft kiss to your forehead.
Despite your numerous attempts to get him to open up about his past, he doesn't bite often. Though, you know some part of him wants nothing more than to tell you every single thing about himself when he speaks little snippets of his past.
He doesn't tell you anything overly upsetting, always keeping it minimal and with as little details of violence as possible.
Perhaps, his idea of a small mercy.
Maybe he thinks he's doing you a favor, giving you little bits of himself hoping you eventually realize how damaged he is. He doesn't understand how those flickers of vulnerability makes you hungrier for more of him. You wanted him, thorns and all.
Simon lets himself get roped back into your arms, all his muscles relaxed, no trace any tautness or rigidness lingering. He feels safe in your arms.
"How long Simon?" You finally ask, preparing for the worst.
Simon was mostly gone for around a month.
But on the rare times you couldn't see him for more than half a year, it was like hell. It hurt so deeply knowing even if he had been killed off somewhere, you might not even know. The only traces left of him would only be the few shirts he's let you take and the Simon-shaped hole he would have left in your heart.
It scared you that you could never be able to smell his earthy musk lingering in your sheets again, that it would fade one day and you wouldn't remember what it smelled like anymore.
"I dunno. More or less three months?"
You hated when he was vague. He was often trying to spare your feelings.
"So... more."
He nods with his face still hiding in your neck. You can feel him press his nose harder and inhale deeply.
Deep down, you feel crushed. You always do when he has to leave. You want to tell him how much you love him again, how much you need him, and you wanted him to say it back so badly.
You thought you had gotten so far with him, slowly breaking down his walls after getting him to start staying over instead of leaving. Something changed after he lost Johnny — he was more touchy, more clingy, but he never let you get any closer anymore. You could physically feel him wince if you told him you loved him during one of your vulnerable moments.
The first time you told him you loved him, he looked at you with a somber look. He didn't say anything, but he pulled you close and gave you a bone-crushing hug.
I'm sorry.
He gave different reactions every time. Some days he'd simply sigh and drag his fingers through your hair lovingly. On worse days, he'd shake his head and do nothing else.
It was like an impenetrable wall had suddenly appeared when it wasn't there before.
You take a deep breath. Simon has been nothing but gentle with fragile you. He's been trying his best to not taint the heart that you've freely ripped out of your chest for him.
Maybe this time, you can do something for him and let him go back without the weight of your love on his shoulder.
"Better make the most of it then, eh?" You pull back from him and hear a grunt of protest. You start pushing him until his back hit the headboard gently. Kissing your way down to his groin, you tug at his boxers impatiently.
"Sweetheart you don't have to-"
"I want to." You cut him off.
"Fuck. You're gonna be the death o' me, love." He lifts his hips and lets you drag his boxers down, revealing his semi-hardness.
God, his cock is so beautiful. It's so thick you could barely wrap both your hands around it even when he's not fully hard.
"I'll make sure to send you off gently with a kiss, Simon." Your mouth slowly engulfs the tip of his cock, licking all around it. Simon lets out a groan as he grabs your head gently.
"Oh, fuck. That's it, sweetheart. So sweet, being so good f' me." He encourages sweetly and it's enough to get you preening and moving your head excitedly down his length.
Just as you know his habits, Simon also knows what makes you tick. Getting praised by him almost always makes you putty in his hands and he makes sure to take advantage of this information to its full potential. He loves to praise you even for the smallest of things, such as cooking for him when he gets back.
Telling you how lovely you are and how he's thankful for you taking the time to cook for grumpy, old, Simon.
You continue taking more of his length in your mouth, gaggling slightly from the sheer size of him. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue and your eyes roll back from pleasure, taking him in more enthusiastically.
"Slow down, love. Don't want- ugh.. you t' hurt yourself." Simon tries to pull your head back to give you space, but you're not happy about it. You glare up at him best as you can before taking him down to the hilt.
Nose pressed deep, you can smell the slight tang of his musk, making you slightly delirious. You moan, sending vibrations up throughout his body.
Simon trembles with pleasure, groaning.
"Yeah, you like that sweetheart? Love choking on my cock? Hmm?"
At his words, you slowly take your mouth off of him, replacing it with your hands. Slick from your spit and his precum, your hand glides along his shaft easily as he bucks into your hand.
"Mhm.." You put your mouth on him once more, only pulling away to rub it all over your face. "Love it so much, Si. Love having your cock in my mouth. Can't live without it."
Simon admires you, cockdrunk on his leaking shaft. Even with his mess all over your face as you slobber on him, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.
Looking up at him, it's like you can see hearts in his eyes. You've been wet since the moment you woke up to him next to you, but him looking at you like you're the only person he wants to see on him makes you feel on top of the world.
Unable to take it anymore, you whine pathetically and start humping the bed.
Simon sees you writhing on the bed below him and chuckles as you continue kissing all over his cock.
"Look at you.. so needy, sweetheart. You don't need to hump the bed like a dog in heat. I'm right here, love." With that, he gently pulls you off his cock. You groan dismay, body going slightly limp from desperation.
"Need you so bad, Si." You beg him, tears starting to form in your eyes. You think you're going to crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. He's about to leave soon for months and you're desperate for him to leave his mark on you.
Simon gently tuts and caresses your cheek. He's in awe of how he's got such a lovely, needy, pet wrapped around his finger. He hasn't had someone this devoted to him in a very long time — someone who's always excited to see him come home, someone who's never asked for him for more than what he can give.
Maybe it makes him a narcissist that he's happy of the fact that you're so desperately in love with him, you'd rather have parts of him than not at all.
But during early mornings where he'd find you sniffling into your pillow, he feels pain in his chest where his heart resides. He knows you cry over him.
He mourns the love that you two could have, but he'd rather mourn over the fantasy he's created in his head — the fantasy where he wasn't fucked up and is able to receive the kind of love you freely give, than have you be heartbroken when Simon inevitably doesn't come home one day.
"I got you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He rumbles against your lips. In a split second, he'd managed to lay you out on the bed and now hovered above you.
He takes a moment to stare at your face. Wide-eyed, sweating, and panting heavily. He peppers kisses all over your face.
His little pet all worked up over sucking his cock.
He's staring at you for a few seconds, making you writhe around, but you never break his stare. It was as if the both of you were trying to commit each other's faces to memory right in this moment, not knowing when you were going to be able to see each other again.
You bring your hand up to his face, slightly wiping the sweat away from his eyes.
His eyes.
The moment he looked at you, you know you were done for. Those eyes never fail to send shivers through your whole body, as if your entire being was standing to attention when his eyes were on you.
"You're so pretty, Simon."
That seemed to break him out of his trance. He grunts slightly as if disagreeing with your statement. You sigh, knowing he's never going to see himself the way you see him.
That's okay. You'll spend as much time as he'll give you to convince him.
Simon kisses and caresses down your body as you moan from the feel of it. Teasing you with his lips and leaving small marks all over. When he gets to your thighs, he slowly raises both of them as he lightly rubs his scruffy chin on it.
"Lift those pretty legs f' me, hm?"
When you don't respond, he gently bites to get your attention and you huff. You grasp your bedsheets so tight your knuckles were going white when you feel his hot breath on you.
"Such a pretty pussy. Just for me, yeah?" He kisses your folds gently, the sensation of his scruff causing a prickly sensation, making you wail in pleasure.
"S-Simon!" You were so needy and sensitive — Simon loved that about you.
"So sensitive." He murmurs against your weeping pussy. He runs his finger across your folds, gathering the wetness. You look down at him as he tastes your wetness on his finger.
"Fuck, Simon."
"Mm, my favorite taste."
After a few moments of simply kissing all around your folds and your clit, Simon decides to stop teasing you. He presses his face in your folds and licks a stripe across it.
He repeats this action multiple times, sucking on your little bud in between. He rolls his finger around your clit as his mouth makes suckling noises. The sensation of his tongue and finger on you make you gasp loudly — your eyes rolling back.
You arch your back and don't stop chanting Simon's name like a prayer. Like he was going to disappear if you stopped calling his name.
"That's it. Let me hear what you want, pretty." He brings two of his fingers back inside your walls, lightly caressing them. He's teasing you, waiting for you to beg him to put his fingers inside of you. You break instantly, begging for him to use his thick fingers to please you.
"Please, Simon. Please, please, please. Need your fingers in me."
How could Simon deny you when you beg so sweetly?
Humming against you, he slowly sinks his fingers inside your aching walls. You sigh in contentment, unconsciously clenching on his fingers.
"Relax love, you're choking my fingers." You relax a bit at his words, trying to get your breathing back to normal. The death grip you
It seems that Simon had other ideas, because as soon as you loosened, his fingers started picking up. You start wailing again at his sudden shift in pace, grabbing his hand that was gripping your thigh.
His hand lets go of your thigh and entwines it with yours.
"Doing so good for me. You can take it, sweetheart. Be good and cum on my fingers, yeah?" At this point the both of you were panting heavily, his heavy cock still leaking precum onto the bedsheets. You didn't realize it before, but you're just now realizing how the bed is creaking from his hips.
Simon pants heavily, the room getting warmer by the second. His heavy groans makes your pussy throb around his fingers as you feel a pressure building in your lower belly.
"Si- please. So close."
Knowing you're close sends him over the edge, his tongue works faster and sloppier in tandem with his fingers. Simon moans and and your back starts to arch higher than before.
You're now making a mess on the bedsheets, wet noises can be heard loudly as it echoes throughout the entire room. You feel hot, sweaty, and suddenly everything's too much.
The lights are too bright, the noises too loud, and you feel so sensitive it burns.
"Simon, I-" You whine, legs starting to thrash as Simon pulled his fingers away to hold your legs. You feel your nerves lighting awake as you feel every single sensation as he sinks his tongue inside.
"Love you Si, love you so much. I'm—" Your body seizes and freezes for a moment and a little flick of his tongue against your bud makes you lose it. Your orgasm washes through you like a crashing wave, causing you to tremble in his hold and let out gasps as you struggle to breath normally and let your legs fall.
Simon lets you catch your breath as he lifts himself up, still hard. You rest your eyes on him and you see him lick his lips — his entire mouth and chin shiny with your slick.
He hovers above you once more, leaning down to give you a kiss. You reach up enthusiastically, pulling him down by his neck. He grunts at the sudden force as you slant your lips against his. It's messy, his lips slick with spit and yours with a small trace of drool. The kiss is desperate, teeth knocking into each other more than once.
It goes on for a while before Simon starts to pull back. Before he's successful, you wrap both your legs around his waist and Simon gasps at the sensation of his cock pressed against your slick.
"Need you inside, Simon. Want you in me." Murmuring against his lips, your hand desperately wanders down his sweaty body and grips his cock.
He lets out a grunt at the sudden warmth enveloping him and is unable to control as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.
"Yeah? You want my cock? Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." He watches in a daze as you slowly align him with you. The moment he feels his tip rub on your slippery folds, he lets out a whimper.
"Please Si.." You whisper to him. "Wanna feel you inside me so bad." Simon coos at you, seeing you beg him to fuck you never fails to make his brain circuit for a few seconds.
He teases you a few seconds longer, just to hear you beg more for him. He begins to feel bad when you start humping the air in hopes of getting his head inside you.
You're babbling incoherently now, eyes closed, hands wandering all over Simon's body. He gives you mercy and starts to push inside your throbbing hole. It takes a bit of time, but when his head manages to push through, he's already able to feel your walls pulsate around him.
"Oh, sweetheart. So needy f' me." He's also barely coherent, his eyes focused on his cock deeper inside your tight hole. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone, hm? Who's gonna fuck you this good?" Simon barely realizes what he's saying until he's spoken them. The thought of someone else fucking you when he's gone lights a fire inside him.
"Oh, fuck." His cock is fully in you now and you can feel every vein pulsating inside of you. Your hands are gripping Simon harder, possibly leaving red marks all over his body — you relish in the thought of Simon looking in the mirror and seeing the marks you left on him. "No one, Si. No one's gonna fuck me as good as you. Don' want you to go. Want you here with me." Your mouth hangs open uselessly, overwhelmed with the pressure of Simon in you.
Hearing you admit so openly you weren't going to fuck anyone else drives Simon even crazier. You realize now how much of an impact your words have on Simon when he starts pounding your poor pussy that was still sensitive.
"Yeah? That's right, sweetheart. No one can fuck you like I can." It takes him a few seconds to get his words out, huffing above you. You can barely hear what he's saying, ears ringing from the blinding white, hot pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your hands try gripping him as long as you can but his thrusts are causing your body to jostle relentlessly, and now your arms flail helplessly before holding onto the headboard.
Simon is no longer on his forearm, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands grip your waist. You're sure his hands are going to leave prints in the morning from how hard he's gripping you.
You don't mind at all.
Your brain feels foggy, only speaking Simon's name over and over again. Simon's no better than you, grunting and groaning at every thrust that leads him deeper into your hole.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moans. "So good for me, so sweet for me." Your legs no longer have the energy to stay corded behind his back, limping helplessly beside you as Simon fucks you.
You feel another orgasm creeping up on you as your walls begin to clench around Simon's cock. Simon hisses at the feeling, leaning up to look at your cream gathering at the base of him. He looks up to the ceiling, gasping in pleasure.
"Si, I'm so close, I-" He brings his head down to give you a chaste kiss before pulling away, nose touching yours and staring into your eyes.
"Let go f' me, sweetheart. Gonna cum on my cock and be good?" He coaxes you, one of his hands going to your face. You don't even realize you're crying until Simon wipes your tears away.
You can't take it anymore, the loving look in his eyes and feeling him inside you breaks you.
"Love you so much, Si. I love you so fucking much." You cry out to him as you're finally sent over the edge. You wail loudly, back arching as Simon continues to thrust at a slower pace, going deeper than before.
"God, fuck. I love you, I love you. Fuck." He continues to mumble against your neck. Your jaw goes slack and another orgasm seizes your body as you clench and gush all over him.
His thighs are drenched from your slick and when he feels your walls pulsing repeatedly over him, he feels shivers all over his body and he cums.
The blinding pleasure takes him off guard, thighs shaking from the sheer force. He continues thrusting shallowly, dragging out his orgasm as his cum fills up your hole to the brim.
He gasps and bites down on your neck, not stopping until he's fully come down from his high.
You're shell shocked, one hand over your eyes as you thinking about what just transpired. This was nothing like before. He'd never said 'I love you', ever. You take a moment to regain your thoughts, heart thumping wildly.
By this point, your hopes had soared like never before, the small part of you that still believes you can have something with Simon begins crawling out of you — coming back alive.
"Si-" You start as you catch your breath and lift your head slightly to look at him.
"Sorry." He mumbles lifting himself from your body, plopping himself on the pillow beside you.
There's nothing but silence for a few minutes. A part of you wants nothing more than to confront him, get him to face his feelings. But you know Simon and that if you did that, he'd panic.
So, you wait. And wait. And wait.
Until he coughs.
"I have to go. Supposed to meet the boys in an hour." He grumbles, fumbling around to get himself off the bed and find his clothes.
Your heart breaks. Was he really going to go away for a few months without talking about what just happened? You had to make a choice. Either speak now or forever hold your peace.
"Simon." You speak with such a finality in your tone that it renders Simon frozen. He pauses putting his pants back on and stares up at you, terrified.
"I love you." You say, loud and clear. You've told him you loved him in the throes of passion and in the sleepy haze of early mornings, but never when both of you were wide awake. Like a secret that's only meant to be whispered so as to not let it get snuffed out.
You see his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. He seems to debate what he wants to say. You badly wish for him to just say something, anything at all.
He doesn't.
Simon continues to put on his pants and slip his shirt over his head. Once he finally gains the courage to look at you once more, he had to clear his throat. The forlorn look on your face would haunt him until the day he dies.
He knows you love him so deeply and honestly, that there was no questioning your devotion to him. He knows that you feel for him so deeply, you'd rather hurt yourself over and over than let him go.
But he's also once harbored care and affection to someone, fighting side-by-side with someone he thought was going to never stop speaking gibberish in his ear.
If Simon almost couldn't survive losing Johnny, there was no way you were going to survive losing him.
With his heart in his throat, Simon stares at you, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you and tell you he loves you more than anything in this world. That he'd fight through any battlefield with broken limbs just to come home to you. But he knows he can't give you that promise. That promise that he's going to die of old age with you.
He expects you to cry or scream, but nothing in the world would be able to heal the way Simon's heart breaks when you only give him a sad smile.
"That's okay. I know you're not selfish enough to love me back."
He knows he should just leave, but he can't help himself from hurting you once more. Simon steps forward, cradles your head in his hands and lay a kiss atop your head.
And then, he leaves.
2K notes · View notes
bbyjackie · 8 months
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𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡
one piece social media + dating pt. 2 feat: zoro
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♡ liked by ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K and 6.5k others
_ynln: who are you where do you live how old are you why are you so fine how do you like your eggs cooked in the morning?
tagged: theroronoa.zoro
theroronoa.zoro: sorry i have a girlfriend
↳ _ynln: damn, not even one chance? 😔😔
↳ theroronoa.zoro: nah (liked by p1rateking_luffy)
sogekingg.usopp: is your boyfriend single (liked by p1rateking_luffy)
↳ _ynln: USOPP WTAF 😭
↳ _ynln: stop trying to steal my man, get your own bro
↳ sogeking.usopp: now i don't support homewrecking, but.. ☝️😋
↳ _ynln: BUT????
blackleg.sanji: PLEASE YN PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE 🧎🏼‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️
↳ _ynln: no
lovenami: WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!?
↳ lovenami: WE WERE MEANT TO MEET UP TWO HOURS AGO WHERE TF ARE YOU
↳ _ynln: SORRY NAMI IDK EITHER ZORO DRAGGED US SOMEWHERE AND WE GOT LOST 😭
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♡ liked by FRAAANKY, trafalgar_d.law and 9.8k others
theroronoa.zoro: zoro. thousand sunny. 21. my gf invented me. like my eggs however yn likes them.
tagged: _ynln
jinbe: Very cute post (liked by nicorobin)
lovenami: anyone wanna jump off the ship w me?
↳ ace: yes 😁
blackleg.sanji: MY BEAUTIFUL GODDESS YN 💗💞💕💝❤️‍🔥
blackleg.sanji: I WILL DEDICATE MY LIFE TO YOU
_ynln: ZORO QWDHBIVEFBQOBJ
_ynln: i love u sm??
↳ theroronoa.zoro: apparently you don't cause why is there question marks
↳ _ynln: GEEZ OKAY I LOVE U 😭 (liked by theroronoa.zoro)
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: i hope y'all break up
↳ _ynln: DAMN KID WTF WHO HURT YOU
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♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, p1rateking_luffy and 10.3k others
_ynln: drinks on?
tagged: lovenami
lovenami: drinks were on that random guy at the club 😇😇
↳ blackleg.sanji: @theroronoa.zoro HOW DARE YOU NOT PROTECT THEM FROM CREEPS 🫵
↳ theroronoa.zoro: he was supplying all of us with drinks why would i chase the guy away
↳ lovenami: real, i wasn't gonna pay 400 berries for a pint 🥱
blackleg.sanji: THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN THE WORLD IN ONE PHOTO?? 😍😍😘
blackleg.sanji: what did i ever do to deserve this 😩😩‼️
S0U1K1NGBR00K: May I see your panties?
↳ _ynln: absolutely not thanks (liked by lovenami, theroronoa.zoro)
p1rateking_luffy: LAST NIGHT WAS SO FUN 😄😄
p1rateking_luffy: THANKS FOR BUYING ME FOOD 💗
↳ _ynln: luffy wait what i didn't buy you anything?
↳ _ynln: OMFG DID YOU JUST DINE AND DASH???
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♡ liked by _ynln, nicorobin and 17 others
[close friends]
theroronoa.zoro: nice 👍
blackleg.sanji: I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS
blackleg.sanji: I AM SO JEALOUS
_ynln: best nap ever (liked by theroronoa.zoro)
p1rateking_luffy: I wanted to play tag but you guys were sleeping?
ilovecottoncandychopper: Yn looks like she gives good hugs! (liked by theroronoa.zoro)
↳ _ynln: CHOPPER GIVE ME HUGS ANYTIME ❣️❣️
sogeking.usopp: get this off my timeline right NOW 🫵
↳ _ynln: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SUCH HATERS 😭😭
5K notes · View notes
slutforslytherinx · 27 days
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whipped m. riddle headcannons
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader
summary: some cute headcannons about mattheo being whipped for you ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
warnings: none?? super fluffy :)
a/n: dedicated to the delusional ladies (aka me) imagine having THE mattheo riddle wrapped around your finger.. life goals😓
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he will break his neck to look if someone mentions your name! even just the first few syllables and they have his full attention.
he looks to see your reaction at every joke he tells. he feels so accomplished if he even gets a slight grin out of you ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
somehow he’ll always find a way to make the convo about you. “i bought some cauldron cakes in hogsmead today.” “…..y/n likes cauldron cakes-” “STOP.”
hand on you at all times. sitting in the common room with your friends? arm wrapped around your back. eating dinner at the great hall? interlocked pinkies underneath the table.
this man is having withdrawals during summer break or if you go home for the holidays. you better believe you’re receiving letters daily with messily sketched hearts.
if he hears anyone saying shit behind your back..? sending prayers!
if he had a little too much fire whiskey at a party, he will not stop looking for you until he finds you. “where’s y/n?” “you’ve asked me this five times mattheo. I DONT KNOW.”
treasures home-made gifts. you crocheted him a little plushie? will keep it on his bed always. doesn’t care if his friends laugh at him for it. (god forbid it goes missing.)
this man could sit and watch you do the simplest tasks for hours. doing makeup? on your bed watching. reading? head rested on your stomach as he forces you to read to him. you literally walk him like a dog.
if your mad at him and ignoring him, he’s on his knees ready to BEG for forgiveness.
truth be told, i think mattheo would be hard to crack but once you do, you aren’t getting away ever. ⋆ ★
1K 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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truethes · 1 year
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finally met chil.de. i do not think my life will ever be the same again.
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frogchiro · 8 months
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JESUS OKAY I FINALLY GOT IT this has been stewing in my mind for like 2 weeks now and now I finally got it. Also this is specifically dedicated for my dear pookie @sant-riley thank you for the brain worm♡
Tattoo artist!Ghost who is just so huge and burly and intimidating. His tree-trunk like arms are covered in bold, black tattoos, his strong neck too and you could swear that another large intricate one was on his stomach too whenever his black shirt rode up.
And imagine you, a novice to the tattoo world and Ghost was initially kinda surprised that you came into his shop; it was known for big, bold artworks and someone as sweet and soft looking like you didn't really seem like someone who would get one, maybe he could figure something out for you.
So imagine the way Tattoo Artist!Ghost's heart rate spark when you asked him to design a delicate womb tattoo in that shy voice of yours ;; Simon swears he almost felt light headed from the way all his blood rushed towards his dick because in his mind with an added womb tattoo?? And your soft curves, broad hips and full thighs?? You will look like his own personal fertility goddess and Simon became determined to not only be the one to exclusively tattoo you, but also to win this girl over and become his♡
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