Sometimes It Feels Like Everyone Around Me Is Speaking In A Secret Language And I'm The Only One Who

This is how I want to b fucked

Love the idea of Aphrodite not having an actual physical body but rather took the form of the most beautiful person in the mind of whoever is witnessing her presence.

And realize that this concept combined with book 5 of the iliad can make a great DioOdy/OdyDio crumbs👀

The only challengers movie I’m invested in

That’s it, thank you

PROMISES. kenji tots w/ v

kenji makes promises he knows he’ll keep.

cw. early relationship, kenji is too relatable with his issues, kenji thinks you’re stupid but in reality he’s the stupid self deprecating one, you DID infact change him

notes. i love you kenji sato. have dinner with me PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS EPELASE

thinking about kenji sato and how he first says ‘i love you.’

thinking about how he’s always talking, and how every one hangs on to his every word. thinking about how he’s so boisterous, and bold—about how he’s always so loud. thinking about how he was that way with you once too, when you weren’t anything to him but at best a means to an end. thinking about how he speaks with certainty, how he rarely lets his voice break. he never does. not in front of people.

kenji constantly has his guard up, always ready for the worst to happen—because it almost always does. then you come in, and his walls come crashing down on him as he tries to step back. he tries to distance himself, to leave, because if you’re too good to be true, then you’re too good for him to stay. he doesn’t want you to, but you do anyway. you place a hand on his cheek and tell him everything will be okay; he doesn’t have to do it alone. you’ll be there. you promise him, and he thinks you’re stupid. he thinks you’re stupid for wanting to stay with him, stupid for wanting to be with him, and you think he’s stupid for thinking of himself like that. you could be so much more, kenji tries to tell you—but you shut him down.

he remembers that day like it was yesterday—when you told him that “we could be so much more.”—when you told him that regardless of whether or not he wanted you to, you would stay. you place your hand on his cheek, and for the first time, his voice breaks in front of you. he’s quiet as you confess your love, because he doesn’t think he deserves it in the first place—but he does. you hold him close to your chest, and you tell him you love him. he is the last thought in your mind as you fall asleep, and he knows, and it makes him sick to his stomach. he doesn’t say i love you back, but in your slumber, he says all he’s wanted to say, and his words seep into your dreams.

“i’m… going to try. with you. i want to try with you.” he starts, squeezing his eyes shut because he hopes you don’t hear him—hopes you don’t wake up in the middle of it. “i can’t describe you as anything else but…ugh, that’s corny.” he stops himself, it’s too much—he wants to call you his, already—he wants to call you ‘mine.’

but he doesn’t, kenji wants you to be awake when he does. “that whole thing—the things you said, that was the first time someone spoke to me like that. the first time they didn’t just give up on me. that was so…new. you’re so new. you’re something else, i swear.” he scoffs, he finds it so weird he’s practically talking to himself—but when you love like someone, it can make you do crazy things. “you’re right. we can be so much more. and i want to be. i want to be so much more. i—i have a duty to be good, like.. a good person. i have so much i haven’t told you. but i will tell you. when i’m ready, and when you are, too. i have a duty to be as good to you as i am to the people… it might seem a bit weird—like i’m some sort of hero— but that’s not the point. i’ll help you understand soon. the point is i’ll definitely take care of you. i know you can take care of yourself, but i’ll be there to…”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “i’ll be there to open your jars, and taste your new recipes… i’ll be there to brush your hair on days you can’t.” kenji continues, before taking his blanket and draping it over you. “—i’ll drape my blanket over you every night you fall asleep in this bed. make you coffee in the morning, too, because i know you wake up later than me.”

it’s like you’re taking his heart and squeezing it hard; he doesn’t want you to let go. he wants to say it back, to confess his fondness of you just as you did to him—but he can’t. he can’t say it, his mouth burns when he tries to—but he wants to. he settles on promises he knows he’ll keep, for as long as you’ll have him. slowly, his eyes shut—and his mouth opens up into a yawn. but he doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “i’ll definitely make you happy.”

you wake up to the sunlight pouring through the blinds and a bed that’s still warm, but already spacious. you turn and kenji is there, walking into the room with two cups of coffee and an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face. he greets you good morning, and as you ramble to him about your dream, quoting some points he made while you were asleep, he wants to tell you it wasn’t exactly all a dream. he wants to tell you what exactly he said, but he doesn’t. if he did, kenji would risk revealing things he can’t reveal. so he just listens to you; the sunlight hits your face just right, and your hair is messy but he’s not bothered by it. you’re annoyed, as your eyes get caught in the sun’s rays, and you crane your neck away, your hand shielding yourself from the brightness—and you’re so beautiful.

you might as well be the sun, with how you blind him whenever he looks at you—you nourish him, you give him energy, and you are what makes his day. you are the sun. he doesn’t know what he is, and he doesn’t even care. your every word is gospel, and he listens to it— to you—as if you’re a prophet. heavensent. divinely made. he wouldn’t be surprised if you were. if there’s anyone he wants to be listening to, it’s you.his mouth burns, but he’d be damned if he didn’t say it right now. you’re definitely the love of his fucking life; kenji has not been so certain in his life.

“i love you.”

you go silent, and then you let out the most happy little laugh— a big, big smile on your face.

the burn subsides as quick as it came.

every nanami headcannons post i see is like “nanami is a provider, nanami is a breadwinner...”

ARE YOU KIDDING. NANAMI NEEDS A WOMAN WHO MAKES BAG SO HE CAN QUIT HIS JOB AND BE A HOUSEHUSBAND.

this man HATES work and you’re telling me that he wants to be the sole provider? PLEASE be real for a second. nanami was built for domesticity. he needs a girl who can buy a cute little house by the sea where all he has to worry about is reading his books and loving his woman.

like this man will make sure you come home every night to a clean house and a warm dinner and then eat ur pussy like a champ. his girl takes care of him so he’s gonna take care of her and he’s gonna take care of her good.

service dom to end all service doms. you want dick after a long day of work? he’s gonna make you see stars and then take care of you like a princess. you want to be slapped around? sure. he’ll tie you up and use you, but best believe your cumming at least 4 times. you want it soft and gentle? that’s what you’ll get. anything for his hard working baby.

and once you're nice and worn out and sleeping comfortably in bed, he's going to the kitchen to make ur lunch for tomorrow. complete with a little note on the napkin reminding you how much he loves you.

nanami deserves a life as a malewife. keep that man barefoot and in the kitchen.

this is the correct opinion and i will not be arguing my point any further at this time. thank you for listening.

NSFW — caleb would loatheeee you trying to be quiet. he’s waited so long to have you this way after all the daydreams and fantasies that would distract him. the ones that would make him reread his source articles in academy because the image of your collarbones in that v neck from your hangout blurred the lines, the ones that would make him improvise in conversation with friends because he was too busy thinking about kissin up your spine to hear what they said. and after all that you want to hide away from him. uh uh.

he’d finally have you sprawled out on his huge comfy California king, pressed under the weight of his body in a nasty prone bone. his shoulders and sculpted biceps would be caging you in and his forehead would rest gently in the crook of your neck, suffocating in the smell of your sweat mixing with the perfume you always wear that drives him insane. you were completely trapped and it was delicious.

but here you were, shoving your face into the pillow and squeezing your eyes shut in hopes to find the strength to stop being so loud. your were embarrassed at how primal he could make you sound like your noises were being ripped from your chest at the feeling of him.

he’d hear the hitch of struggle in your voice once and his eyes shoot open and his brows pinch together. he lifts his head to look at you through droopy eyes. ‘w’ya doin’‘ he slurs firmly. ‘stop it.’ he wheezes and shifts to lean on his forearm and uses his other hand to grip your jaw and tilt your head up.

you let out a gasp into the thick sticky atmosphere but you still don’t seem to ease up and he whines in something close to agony at your muffled noises. ‘nooo please baby sing for me gimme ‘ur pretty voice.’

he’d get so impatient that he hooks his thumb into your mouth and pries it open, moaning at the drool that trickles down his wrist. he starts to fuck you as if he’s trying to thrust through you and you can’t help but cry out in bliss, right into his ear, as he rams right into that sweet spot that’s just for him.

it was like a mountain was just lifted off of his shoulders and the relief coursed through him like euphoria. ‘my pretty girl. nothin’ t’be scared of stop hidin fr’me. let caleb hear you, let him hear baby’ he’d coo absentmindedly. he has to try like never before not to cum in you right then.

Me too gang

Paps my beloved

flabbergastered

Sometimes, I think about how I used to let life overwhelm (still do, but not as bad), and I'd take it out on people. The slightest thing would irritate me whether it was someone's voice or touch. I can't count how many times I was anxious and didn't know why 🥹 anyways this MC X Sylus bit is for those that can relate 🫠 even if you can't happy reading

"Do you feel better now?"

Sylus' gaze on you almost burns. The half-hearted smile still faintly on his lips, his eyes remained ocked on you.

It had been a very bad day, week, and month in general. The emotional build-up was sure to cause an eruption of feelings at some point. Sylus only watched you silently over the last few weeks waiting for you to come to him with what you were feeling. He'd already learned the hard way once before about trying to get you to open up when you weren't ready.

He'd watched you mope around the base and Linkon with an unsettling fire behind those eyes. He'd kept the twins on you when he couldn't be around because he knew the day was fast approaching. It was telling in the way you slapped his hands away or had your day ruined over the tiniest mishap. Angry tears seemed to be a constant on your eyeline as you continued your day to day routine.

The part that made you most upset is that you didn't even know why you were angry or sad. Was this depression? Everything started to seem like a chore, the smallest things and sounds began to overwhelm you. You didn't want to be touched or talked to, but some days you didn't even want to be alone.

What's happening to me?

The lingering question in your mind took root in your troubles, which only stoked the flames of irritation. You just wanted it quiet. You wanted to feel calm, and you needed something to uproot this rising storm.

And then the day arrived, Sylus becoming your victim. The moment his hand touched your head, you'd blown up. Strings of curses left your mouth, your voice raised with angry tears marking your face. Shrill cries, leaving your mouth, your hands waving around orchestrating madness.

Sylus watched your descent with that knowing smile. He'd wanted this, your anger. You'd been holding it all in for far too long. It was time.

Let it out, he demanded it.

When you'd seemingly finished, his eyes monitored your erratic breaths. He'd taken another step closer as he had done earlier. His hand laced with yours, pulling you into a firm hug. His scent floods your nose, commanding your breathing to regulate.

"Do you feel better now?"

You couldn't look at him. A man you'd love so much, you blew up on him without reason and still he only worries about you.

"Don't feel sorry, sweetie, you needed this. You've been climbing higher and higher into unknown madness, and I was simply waiting for you to fall." Your grip tightens on his forearm, your face buried deeply into his chest.

"I don't deserve you." Sylus was silent for a moment. He pulls you away slightly, his hands secure themselves on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

"I think we both know it's me that doesn't deserve you. The beautiful thing about having a loving partner is that we are there for each other when we can't be there for ourselves." He signs his words with a quick kiss on your lips. The tenderness of his lips melts any remnants of subdued frustration.

There was a lot that needed to be said and addressed, but it would have to wait until later. You'd spent the better part of your month yelling at someone who didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry." He gives a soft chuckle.

"I know."

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), dom!xavier (and a very sub!reader), slight power dynamics, nothing too extreme but xavier is a little mean here, slight themes of possession and jealousy (ft. jeremiah mention like... once), sensory play (blindfold), light bondage, biting, marking, teasing, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy petting, nipple play, clit play, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))

wc : 4.1k (...yeah... of pure filth actually...)

an : as usual, very self-indulgent on the part of yours truly !! inspired by "red lights" (and yes, as always, listening to the song adds to the vibes) and our very beloved "no restraint" trailer, but it doesn't actually reference the pv so this is entirely separate <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @star-anons-blog @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Focus on me, angel."

Quiet words against your skin.

Your chest heaved, breathing heavy, wrists bound tightly together against the bedpost—his fingers grazed over your cheek in that moment, and the touch was familiar. It was soothing, almost. Like a soft caress that the two of you would often share together, it had your head tilting towards him, leaning into his touch as much as you could help it.

He had you right where he wanted you.

You had no choice but to focus on him.

Just... not in the way that you would have expected to.

Your wrists tugged slightly at the ribbons that restricted you, a small whimper falling from your lips.

You couldn't see.

Every touch against your skin had you jolting, every trail of his fingers on your jawline, down your neck, over your shoulders... All of it felt so heightened. Your vision was shrouded in darkness. The silk that covered your eyes was bound tightly, not a semblance of light could have creeped in from the room that had already been dim from the start. He had you lost in a swirl of the unknown.

And it had been this way for hours on end.

His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet schlick, your body writhing as you let out yet another cry.

But he wasn't listening to you.

Instead, he sighed.

"I said," he murmured—and you flinched at the sudden feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear—"focus on me."

His voice dropped an octave lower as he completed his statement, and it was unfair.

"I-I am!" you protested. "It's too much, Xavier, I-I can't... I can't keep holding it, please I just—!"

"Shhh."

The mattress shifted beneath you. His warm hands slid across your bare skin, his body warm next to yours—slow, intentional, precise movements, thumbs digging into your flesh in what could have been considered a sort of massage. It was enough to ease you out of the orgasm you'd almost had, the coil in your stomach loosening as you felt every beat and every flutter of your pussy so wantonly.

And then you felt his head dip down.

In an instant, his lips attached to your neck—

"I know, angel, I know. I have you. Just focus on how it feels."

But you were feeling too much.

Too much, all at once, for all this time, and yet—

It was so hard to resist him.

He knew that.

And it was nearly by instinct how your head tilted, allowing him more access, allowing yourself to feel the way his lips would curl into a little, self-satisfied smile. You didn't need to see him to know it was there; you didn't need to see him to know how it looked like. You knew him well enough.

And you were melting at it.

Gradually he began to explore the rest of your body with featherlight touches, as if to soothe the way he'd been edging you endlessly over the past several minutes. He ghosted over your skin with the tips of his fingers, enough to have goosebumps prickling in their wake; his hands moved up to cup your breasts, inching closer to where he knew you needed him most, but still—only barely touching.

And then you barely had a chance to react, before his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck. The sudden action, a sensation intensified by having your sight so cruelly taken away from you, had you arching your back with a moan.

In the next second his thumbs rubbed over your nipples as he suckled at your skin to leave an array of bruises, a deep chuckle reverberating against you. Slow, rhythmic circles, lithe fingers taking your nub and finding pride in the way they would stiffen and peak under his touch...

You knew that he was watching you.

You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

And you knew why he was being like this. Relentless teasing, always enough to bring you to the precipice but never allowing you to topple over it... Now, he was taking it slow again, but you were sensitive enough to be reacting to everything.

"Xavier...." you whimpered. Slowly, his hand trailed down over your stomach to rest over your thigh.

"Yes?" he murmured.

A shiver went down your spine at the raspiness in his voice.

"You want me here again?"

He spread your legs without waiting for you to answer, a finger trailing upwards and nearly excruciatingly close—only to trace gentle, feathery shapes into your inner thigh.

You groaned.

"Xavier.... Please! Please just touch me—"

"But I am touching you."

You knew that he was smiling.

"Not like that! Do it... Don't do it so gently! Don't tease me! Stop playing with me!"

He hummed, and his hand inched even closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of the mere proximity, your walls clenching around virtually nothing, your breath hitching with anticipation.

But it never came.

"...I don't know."

You were nearly appalled at how genuinely nonchalant he sounded.

"You know what you've been doing to me all day. Teasing me like that... then giving all that attention to Jeremiah when you should have been looking at me."

"I-I didn't mean to! You know he's only just a friend, you know that I—nngh—!"

He leaned in to pull at your earlobe, taking it between his teeth before letting out a soft laugh at the way your body seemed to squirm in response.

"But... That doesn't change anything. Next time don't talk to him like that when you're wearing such a short skirt." A soft blow against your ear, and he made it clear that he was enjoying the goosebumps that littered over your skin as a result. "Besides... I thought you were too sensitive, since you've been reacting to everything so much. Now, you want... more? You're so greedy..."

You could nearly cry.

You felt his other hand squeeze at your breast to make a point, and you felt him shift ever so slightly—

"You're all sloppy, angel. You've made such a mess. I can see it, how wet you are..."

A pause.

"...Mm. You want me to touch you there, right? Feel my fingers inside you again? You must be really warm, still..."

Again your wrists tugged at your restraints, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the blindfold. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you couldn't dream to listen over it for his movements—his words felt so simultaneously innocent as they were dirty, and the calm in his voice did nothing to soften its effects.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Xavier, please!" you begged. And whether intentional or not, you found yourself lifting your hips, pushing against him. It was enough for you to feel the slightest graze of his fingers against your cunt, nearly driving you insane with the way he curled his hand into a fist and have you coat his knuckles in your juices.

Then he let out a hum, and you knew what that meant.

He was watching you.

And he was fascinated.

"Do you like that?" he questioned aloud, and it almost pained you how full of wonder his voice seemed to be. "You really are so sensitive."

Your next moans were swallowed into a kiss as his hand remained placed between your legs, stationary at the perfect distance for you to grind against him. The other continued to knead at your breasts, occasionally pausing to roam over your skin, and he murmured—

"Pretty. You're so pretty when you're needy like this."

You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn that the smirk that was likely on his face was anything but innocent.

Yet, his hands drew away from you, and he laughed.

"Xavier!" you cried out. Your hips lifted, as if to chase that same sensation, your clit throbbing with a need that could have had you thrashing around had you not been tied into place.

"Shhhhh, shhh. Relax... Just relax."

A kiss over your blindfold, this time, had you placated enough to swallow your pleas into what felt to be a choked stob. His lips traced over your eyelids, to the tip of your nose, to your lips once more. And then his kisses began to trail further south. Down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, over the skin of your stomach and past your navel—

Only to stop.

And then he began, again, to kiss upwards.

By the time he'd reached your lips once more, your breath was shaky and erratic, the corners of his mouth turned up in another smile you knew to be one of satisfaction.

Now, the scent of his shampoo, the scent of his skin was heedy in the air, mixing in with your own arousal. The room smelled of lust and desire, and these were the only other grounding sensory details you could latch onto as your head continued to spin. Because he truly, truly had you under his complete control. He could have you bending and writhing under his touch without a second thought, the reins of your pleasure embedded into his every being.

"Xavier.... Xavier, please," you cried. You'd lost count of the number of times his name had fallen from your lips out of sheer desperation. "Please, I'm so empty! I need... I need you, I need something—"

A sharp gasp fell from your lips, effectively cutting you off.

"Something, like... This?"

A single breathless whisper against your ear, before you felt him prod at your entrance and slid slowly, slowly back inside you.

"So, so warm."

His voice was a soothing lull, almost an irony to the way that he was treating you.

All the while, wet noises followed every movement of his fingers as he fucked you slowly—gathering your creamy slick when he pulled out, only to plunge right in with a little hum of wonder that had you keening. Easily, he had your hips bucking into his palm. Your back arched; it was an instinctive reaction to follow the movements of his hand as if you were merely a puppet of his desires—every pump of his finger had you moaning unabashedly, only a slave to the lust that he'd awakened in you.

And with the silk around your eyes still fastened in its place, the darkness surrounding your vision made even the tiniest things feel all the more pleasurable.

You could feel how long and slender his fingers were, reaching so deep inside of you, curling against your sweet spot. You could feel the stretch of your pussy with the scissor of his fingers, a stretch so delicious that the burn of it went straight to your head to have your eyes rolling back.

And it felt so good.

...But as always, he would be so. Excruciatingly. Deliberate.

His ministrations brought you a pleasure so indescribable, yet it wasn't quite enough.

You knew what he was doing. He would bring you back into a patten you'd become familiar with: you would be speared on his fingers relentlessly, at a pace so frustratingly lacking, creaming over his fingers without quite bringing you over the edge.

"Xavier!"

Yet another choked sob to fall from your lips. More tears pricked at your eyes, too, though he would have likely been unaware given the fabric concealing that was concealing them. "Please... Please, faster! Please... I need to cum!"

It was like a trigger.

Immediately at your words, his thumb brushed lightly over your clit before he pulled away, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, angel... I don't want to let you."

The sudden momentary stimulation against your clit had your vision going hazy. You thrashed around desperately as another cry tore fron your lungs, your legs squeezing together tightly— the throbbing in your cunt was becoming absolutely unbearable.

You were so close.

You were so close.

It was slipping away.

"No!" you cried. "Nngh, no, no, please! Please, Xavier! I've been so good for you! Please, please, you have to—I have to—"

This time his other hand moved to tangle into your hair, and he placed another chaste kiss over your lips.

"But... Have you been good? When you've teased me all day? You know... Just now, you've also been begging nonstop, even if I keep telling you not to. I don't know if I should be calling you good."

A pause, and a whimper on your end.

"...But you're pretty. I can give you that."

Another kiss, and another, and another, as your orgasm slowly faded away and you were rendered a panting mess beneath him.

But he wasn't done.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when he opened you up again, fingers delicately tracing your folds, the stimulation enough to make you jump. This time, you didn't have to say anything before his fingers were back inside you, fucking your cunt, squelching noises resounding in the room with how he would plug your hole full with every thrust.

It was humiliating, almost.

All you could do was focus—on the sensation, on the sound, on the way he would whisper soft, loving words into your ears as if he weren't completely ruining you for him in this moment.

"So wet n'messy..."

Your walls fluttered around him, clenching on his fingers—

He clicked his tongue.

"Ah-ah, angel... Again? So soon?"

You heard him sigh as his fingers slipped away from you once more, and your entire body jerked with desperation.

"Xavier!!!" Your chest felt suffocating, sobs of his name falling from your lips. "Xavier! Xavier, why! Why do you keep—Why won't you let me finish!! Xavier, please!!!"

Your wrists felt numb with pain as you struggled against your restraints, and you knew that your face was wet with tears. The blindfold was drenched; you could only keep your eyes squeezed shut, sniffling helplessly.

It was gone again.

You ached; your breathing wild and heavy. You didn't know what to do. He had you utterly ruined.

"You know why, angel. Should I do it again until you understand?" he whispered. His lips fluttered against yours, teasing a kiss.

He wouldn't even give that to you anymore.

"No!" you sobbed. "No more... Xavier, no more! Please... Please, please just make me cum! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—I won't do it again—"

His fingers glided over your lips this time, and it was almost pathetic how easily your mouth opened in response. The tangy taste of your slick was unmistakable. He slid his fingers into your mouth for you to taste more.

This way, you couldn't speak properly.

There would be no other way to convey your desire, if not to thrash around and have him watch.

Another hum. "I think... Not."

And he would keep doing it.

Your cunt was red and swollen to the point of overstimulation. Your vision blurred; your head felt fuzzy. You were tired.

Every touch, even the slightest brush against your skin—against your clit—had you gasping. You were too hyperaware of everything he was doing. Worse, again, was the fact that you couldn't know of what else he would do to you—couldn't anticipate it.

Another tap against your nub, a pressure enough to flick it slightly, before snaking your hand up your waist to soothe you with another gentle caress.

You were sobbing.

"Mean!" you weeped, "You're so mean, Xavier! So cruel! I can't—I can't anymore! You have to make me cum... You have to!"

It hurt.

It stung.

And you felt him sigh, so used to your pleas at this moment that you wondered if he had gotten so desensitized to them by now.

"So I'm harsh, and cruel?" There was a teasing lilt to the calm of his voice this time, and you choked out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press tip against you.

He shifted, and the blindfold was slipped off of your face. Wet with your tears, he discarded the cloth carelessly around his room, and finally, finally, you were able to see him.

The room was dim, but the blue in his eyes remained striking—always an ocean you could drown in, willingly.

Only tonight, that wasn't what he wanted from you.

His hand found its way to your chin, and he tilted it downwards. Just a little, you felt—saw—the tip of his cock press into you.

"Do you want this?" he murmured. He kept your gaze in place, pressing in a little deeper still. But you were aware at how his gaze never strayed away from you. Observing. Attentive. "You feel empty, right, angel? You want me inside you? Maybe I've been too mean to you... I'm sorry... Next time, you shouldn't tease me too much..."

You let out a slow breath.

"Please."

Your voice was shaky.

And he leaned in, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again before his lips met your cheek. In a flutter of movements he kissed your tears away, hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Watch," he said.

His voice was soft, but it was something like a command.

"Watch. And no take-backs."

You didn't have time to react, then.

Once more your gaze was directed towards your pussy, throbbing with a need for attention—and your eyes went wide.

He thrust inside you without a second of warning. The entrance was sudden—unexpected. Filling. Any words you'd been thinking to speak fell immediately to a shocked silence, your mouth falling open in a noiseless moan. And all at once, you were made entirely aware of the stretch of your walls, the length of his cock a slow, frustrating slide until the numbnessmelted away enough for you to feel full.

His weight shifted.

You felt caged between his arms, his breath hitting directly above you, legs slotted between yours. There was space for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you did—

And he started off slow.

Low grunts as his hips rolled against yours, a thrust so fluid and deep that your figure pressed deeper into the mattress. You groaned in response when he repeated the motions; pulling out only to thrust all the way back in, the slap of his skin against yours a testament.

"Not empty..." he rasped. "Not empty 'nymore. I'm filling you up... So warm and pretty for me, all for me..."

His words made your head spin, but despite the desperation laced into his tone, he refused to pick up the pace. You whined, your hips raising to meet his thrusts as if trying to coax a faster pace, but he didn't listen. Instead, he clicked his tongue—with a mewl on your end, he pinned your hips to the bed, preventing you from moving.

"Xavier!" you protested immediately, feeble attempts to wrestle free from him.

"No."

A harsher tone, as he grinded against you to elicit another choked sob.

"But whyyy! I thought you—you said you—"

You threw your head back at a particularly deep thrust, and again his hand was back on your chin.

"I'll set the pace. Don't move, angel. Or I'll pull out."

Xavier usually wasn't like this.

You couldn't quite tell if he was enjoying your torture, or if he was simply this upset over everything that had happened, but the ache you had all over your body right down to the throbbing of your cunt was too, too much for you to bear.

The way his hair fell over his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrow arched almost menacingly—it brought tears to your eyes once more, and all you wanted to hear from him was another word of reassurance.

For a moment, his eyes softened.

"Don't cry... Don't cry anymore..." He leaned in to nuzzle against your nose, before pressing his lips to yours in a light, gentle kiss. "What do you want, angel? You want me to go harder?"

Feebly, you nodded. At a sharp thrust of his hips, you drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that?"

Another nod.

And this time, he smiled—and it was genuine.

"Okay. Then stay still and let me. You can do that for me, right, angel?"

His hips began to move again, and you were relieved to feel the slight reprieve he was granting you by slowly picking up the pace. Yet again your gaze found the outline of your cunt, zeroing in almost immediately on the way his cock sunk into you and disappeared eagerly into your dripping folds.

He was right.

You were an absolute mess, if the sloppy sounds of sex weren't enough to prove it. The sheets were stained so clearly with your arousal, and the truth was that you didn't quite need him to be rougher with you. Just the mere sensation of being filled up, the friction of his shaft against your gummy walls, was enough to have you arching your back to meet his thrusts.

"Close!" you cried out, desperately rutting against him. "M'close, Xavi, please, please— Let me...!" You saw the smirk on his face, the way his eyes narrowed. Part of you had to wonder if he would pull away again—

But he didn't.

Instead, his hips moved faster, drilling into you in a pace so relentless that your eyes grew wide with shock.

In fact, he didn't stop at all.

He'd haphazardly reached out to yank you free from your bounds, but when you finally reached your peak, it was a crash that had you reeling. A scream of his name and curling of your toes were barely enough to describe it—your vision had gone white, your body fixed into a tremble that almost seemed not to stop. It didn't matter that you had just spilled onto his length, clenching around him with every loud cry that tore from your chest. You were raw, and sore, and used—but that was no longer any of his concern.

He kept his thrusts up.

He would drive you into the mattress, every movement made to slam his hips into yours harder, faster, skin slapping against skin so loudly that the sound of it near-challenged the unintelligible moans that spilled from your lips.

It was torture.

Yet it was so good.

"Ye- es!" you cried out. "Yes, ye—aaanh— y-yes—! Like that! Like tha—hnn—! Xavi— Xavier—!"

You couldn't help but have your eyes roll back into your head, allowing him to grip your waist and steady himself, giving himself the leverage to fuck into you deeper, to stretch you out so deliciously good. He kept your thighs spread apart, nails digging into your skin—and you were so sensitive. Over, and over... he would ram his cock into you and have you filled to the brim with him, never once giving you a second of rest.

And it was everything to watch him lose control just as easily because of that.

"Yeah... Yeah? Like this, angel? Mmh... Taking me so... s-so—hnng— so well, angel, l-look at you..."

Gasps and groans fell uncontrolled from his lips, a mixture between deep rumbles and a more high-pitched whine when you clenched around him just right.

"More... more," he shuddered. "Can't... can't stop, angel, you're so good, I need—need you—No one, haah, no one gets to fuck you like this, all pretty for me to use—"

Clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, skin sheen with sweat. His eyes held a haze of desire you could only ever see from him when he got like this, and it was all barely enough to keep your sanity from tipping over.

You were withering.

His hand moved down to rub against your clit, and the intensity of all of it had your vision going completely blank.

You could barely register anything anymore.

He would pull orgasm after orgasm out from you and you would lose count of it, only vaguely registering the hot stream of white that dripped out of you with how full you were.

"Xavier..."

Your voice was weak and raspy, your hands wrapping around him to pull him into you, against you—anything.

And he groaned against your neck.

"Angel.... one more, please, just— One more. You can give me 'nother. I know you can. Just, nngh—let me fill you up one more time... Gotta mark you all mi— mine— mine—"

He clamored to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Immediately you clawed at his back, a strangled cry of his name leaving your mouth... and he caved.

Yet you knew that this was far from over.

"Mmmhfffuck—! S-so tight, so—ah—!"

The last thing you registered was the desperate shut of his eyes, the near-frozen parting of his lips, and the string of curses formulated into his own moan of raw, unfiltered pleasure.

He was just as long gone as you were.

"Oh, angel... M'not— Not done with you yet at all..."

⁺₊ / an: guys i literally cannot stop thinking about him

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