purplefair

Latest Posts by purplefair

“i can fix him”

“i can make him worse”

good for you. i, however, can will fuck him so hard that he literally forgets he was ever fucked up.

the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.

How LADS men say “sorry”

Sylus’ black card works, but I’d settle with Xavier’s for now.

permission to post from: keiyaa.aa on tiktok!

REMEMBER THAT POST WITH CINDERELLA WHERE HER DRESS CHANGES TO THE COLOR OF YOUR BLOG?

THIS ONE DOES IT TOO!!

I found a bunch more!!

x

he treats MC like a princess ♡

when he effortlessly picks us up with one hand.

he can throw me, manhandle me, toss me anytime

misty invasion - no restraint

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: xavier x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 5k words (jesus i even cut 1k out)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘no restraint’ (xavier’s misty invasion card), switch!xavier, slightly dark!xavier, super possessive!xav, so much pussy eating, nose stroking clit, cumming on pussy then using as lube, mating press, sensory play but not actually, thigh biting, ankle kissing, foot massage, slight finger sucking, slight dub-con somno at the end, use of y/n

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | zayne's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: sorry this is late! I’ve been dealing with some harassment but won’t get into that here. You guys have been waiting so patiently for this one and i’m so excited to finally share it with you guys. I love writing and it’s incredible to have people to share my passion with, so please enjoy xavier fuckers!

part three is our dear xavier! idk how this one got so long i cut 1k words and its still 5k LOL somehow longer than sylus’s? i haven’t written for xavier in sooo long so this was both challenging but fun! I miss him <3 I wrote xavier as more dark!xav than the soft xavier, but there’s definitely a good mix of both

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

As a Hunter, you’ve had to thoroughly train your senses to be as adept and and accurate as possible, to keep yourself, your fellow Hunters, and the citizens of Linkon safe.

Sight. The ability to track every micromovement a Wanderer made and react in milliseconds. Being able to quickly spot things that don’t belong, indicating something more sinister.

Hearing. Being able to detect even the mutest of sounds. The muffled shuffling of leaves, a slight creak in the wind that could warn you of incoming danger.

Smell. The almost imperceptible scent of different species of Wanderers, each one specific to each genus, able to provide valuable information on what to expect.

Touch. The distinct textures of your different UNICORN issued tools and weapons, the simplest grooves and ridges helping you quickly discern what is what in moments of life or death.  

What you hadn’t necessarily needed was the sense of taste, but that wouldn’t be a sense you’d need as a Hunter. Right?

In the soft glow coming from the protocore you and him had confiscated from an illegal protocore trade, Xavier sat at the foot of the bed you’d be sharing tonight. The soft orange light emanating from the protocore casts a vaguely romantic atmosphere around the two of you. It was suffocating and addicting all at once.

Perhaps it was your fault, you’d teased him, claiming the protocore in question had dulled your senses, a side effect from its unique Protocurves. A clear and obvious lie. 

But you hadn’t expected him to respond so boldly. 

To test your sense of sight, moving from his spot across the hotel room to approach the foot of the bed, sitting so closely that you could see the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, gliding along the grooves of his muscled abdomen.

To test your sense of smell, leaning in so teasingly close to you that the soft clean smell of his pheromones, akin to fresh laundry blowing in the spring breeze, invaded your very essence. 

To test your sense of hearing, whispering dangerously sultry but innocent words under his breath to taunt you, seeing if you could hear how much he wanted you. 

To test your sense of touch, reaching out to grasp your face into his fingers, warm from the hot shower he’d taken. So daringly caressing your warm cheek in his palm, with a heated desire that you knew could consume you whole. 

It was truly all enough to drive you utterly insane, at the point of no return, nearly jumping him right then and there.

Perhaps Xavier could see that, deciding to give you a temporary reprieve from all the “sensory tests” to complete a test of his own 

His voice is a faint murmur, “Before the rain stops, is there anything you want to do?” His words sound less like a question and more like a plea. Bordering on a demand. 

At his words, your eyes trail to the body lotion you’d set on the nightstand next to the Protocore. You’d just been about to apply it before Xavier had come out of the shower. You bite your lip at the thought of his strong hands rubbing the expensive cream into your aching muscles. Xavier’s eyes follow yours, and he smiles gently, standing up to grab it from the side table. 

He unscrews it, the soft scent of strawberries wafting in the space between you. Under the soft glow of the Protocore, Xavier’s face is flushed, his breath unusually heavy. His eyes are focussed on the body lotion, but you can just barely see the stormy heat behind them. 

“What, are we testing your senses now?” you tease him, sitting up with your hands hugging your knees. 

Xavier sits back down on the bed, the mattress dipping at your feet. Your toes brush against the soft silk of his bathrobe, the knot even looser now, leaving far too little to imagination. His voice is gentle, but urgent, “The Protocore’s Protocurves can…dull a person's senses.” 

He places his palm gently on the underside of your thighs, pulling your bare calves toward him. His touch is impossibly soft, yet strangely enough it leaves your skin burning. You let your body be guided towards him until his chest is practically pressed against your knee. With your bare calf in his hands, it makes it difficult to think. But you do your best to speak, “So…are you affected by it too?”

As Xavier smears the lotion across your flushed skin, he murmurs, “Maybe.” He takes another scoop of the cream into his fingers.

“It’s possible…I won’t be able to feel you anymore from now on.” His eyes are trained on your leg as he speaks, fingers wandering from your knee to your exposed thigh. Though you both know his senses were, and would be, perfectly fine, the longing in both his low voice and dark eyes felt completely real.

As his hands rub into your skin, his fingers briefly find their way under your nightdress. He leans down, resting his chin on your knee. He practically hugs your legs to his chest, the opened jar of lotion still in hand. WIth his curious fingers on your thigh, under the lace hem of your nightdress, you try and distract him from your flushed face. You take a small dollop of the lotion in his hands, teasingly brushing it to his nose.

“What’s the fragrance? Can you smell it?” Xavier’s face on your bare knee doesn’t move, but his eyes flit up to yours, dark and amused. 

He has a barely perceptible smirk, fingers stroking small shapes into the area where your lace nightie meets the skin of your exposed thighs, “Strawberry.” He sounds uncharacteristically self-assured, his chin moving down so that he can smell your skin. 

You shiver as you feel the cool inhale of his nose against your knee. His lips ghost along your leg as he breathes in the scent, lingering for so long you’re nearly quivering against his hold. His hand grips your thigh possessively as he murmurs, “Or maybe...that scent…is cherry.” The way he buries his face into your legs, inhaling so deeply, is nearly enough to have you passing out.

He comes back to nuzzle his chin into your knee, glancing up at you in an expression that is eerily dark and soft all at once, “Was I right?” His words are gentle but there’s an exhilarating taunt underneath them. It only makes you want to taunt him back.

You reach for his ear, noticing it’s unusually peachy pink, stroking along the soft lobe, “Here’s another test. What do you think my hand is doing right now?” Xavier’s eyes close at your touch, his breath heavy and hot against your thigh. His brows furrow, and if it weren’t for the way he leaned into your touch for more, you’d almost think he was in pain. 

As his eyes flicker open to meet yours, you take his cheek into your hands. There’s a vague haziness in them, almost like he’s having a hard time keeping them open, drunk off even your slightest touches. He sits up, leaning into your hand.

“You need to do it harder,” he urges, desperation making itself known in his sultry voice. Your hand trails down his ear, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw and making its way to Xavier’s bobbing neck. 

Your fingers move intentionally, trailing down to his collar until they rest on his chest, “What about now?” 

Though his chest heaves, his blue eyes smolder with an unbridled confidence, “...Too gentle.” He looks at you with an unspoken plea in his eyes, begging you to touch him more. Harder.

You let your shaking fingers toy torturously with the reddened skin on his sharp collarbone, swirling your fingertips on his pounding chest. You bite your lip, enjoying the way his breath comes out in needy pants, the look of desperation on his parted lips growing stronger by the second, “If you still haven’t felt it…”

Xavier continues your thought, cerulean eyes filled with a desperate longing, “If I haven’t felt it…” You gasp as he grabs your wrist forcefully, bringing it back up to his face.

His grip is commanding, caressing your palm with his soft cheek, his breath fanning the inside of your hand. His movements are almost imperceptible, until you feel his lips closing over your middle finger. You’re unable to stop the shiver as his tongue grazes against your trembling finger, his lips caressing your skin in his mouth.

Xavier desperately hopes you keep your eyes trained on his, and not the embarrassingly prominent tent under his thin robe, throbbing for your attention. His breath is hot as he pants against your finger, “...does this mean I’m a lost cause?”

You pull your hand away, unable to withstand the effect his lips enclosing in your fingers is having on your body, your thighs clenching together under your own robe and nightgown. 

“What should we do?” you murmur before softly clutching his shoulder, pulling him closer until you can whisper into his ear for a little hearing test. You let your lips graze his reddened earlobe, before whispering.

“Xavier.”

It comes out far more sultry and seductive than you’d originally intended, betraying your body’s true desires. Xavier apparently shares those same desires, because as he hears you gasp out his name his body has a visceral reaction. 

His heart pounds so rapidly he’s almost sure you’d be able to hear it, his muscled chest rising and falling in an irregular rhythm. His face looks almost anguished, fighting an internal war against himself. He glances towards you, his eyes dark with unbridled desire. 

“Oops. Looks like something broke,” you grin cheekily, thoroughly amused by his reaction, fueled with confidence. 

Xavier’s eyes are so dark they’re nearly black as they drink in the sight of your beautiful smile, as you sit with your knees up on the mattress. The next thing you know, Xavier’s is pushing you down, your back hitting the plush mattress and your robe fluttering open to reveal your flimsy nightdress. 

Xavier stands above you, before his hand comes down to grip the mattress beside your head, pinning you down. His eyes trail up your body, savoring every exposed centimeter of soft skin, before boring into your beautiful eyes. His body is pressed gently into yours, and you can very much make out just how excited he’s become. The area between your thighs moistens at the feeling of his arousal pressed into your stomach. 

“Your sensory test isn’t over yet,” he grunts, his face tortuously close to yours. His eyes are hooded dangerously, an imminent threat reflected in his ocean blue eyes. He leans forward, so close his torrid breath fans against your parted lips.

“Let’s do a taste test,” he murmurs, eyes shutting as he finally closes the distance between your lips in a toe-curling passionate embrace. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, which you happily part to give him access. He moans into you as he indulges in how delicious you taste, quickly addicted to your soft and warm tongue against his. 

When he finally pulls away, he’s a complete and utter mess. His breath is uneasy and rapid, his body contorting with the rhythm of his pounding chest. His fingers have found their way into yours, effectively pinning you securely against the bed under his hard body. 

“Xavier…” you gasp, squeezing his fingers, “Even someone like you can lose your composure, huh?”

As your bodies heave together, Xavier takes thick and deep lungfuls of your scent, his face buried into your neck.

“One doesn’t need that much composure,” he groans before diving back into the crook of your neck, lips latching onto your pulse. 

As he holds you, gently suckling at your neck, you prod him, “What are you thinking of?”

Xavier hesitates, his lips hovering centimeters above your skin, before murmuring, “Something…indecent.”

You bite back your grin, thoroughly enjoying how needy he’s becoming. With his body still atop of yours, you bring your lips to his ear letting your wet lips stroke against his earlobe. 

“Xavier…” you purr, “Tell me what you’re thinking of.”

You can see Xavier’s neck throb with a thick gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. It’s then he decides he’s done playing games. 

He sits up eerily calmly, until he’s on his knees at your feet. His fingers trail down your bare thighs, to your calves, and to your feet. You squirm at his fleeting trail of touches, squeaky moans of anticipation slipping from your lips.

As his hands slide down your legs, he lifts your foot into his hands, fingers kneading your aching sole. You moan, your eyes squeezing shut at just how wonderfully Xavier knows your body, knows how to touch you. 

You’re so caught up in the feeling of his hands on your ankles that you don’t notice the way he cups your calf, raising your leg into the air as he caresses it. It’s not until the distinct feeling of his warm lips meet the bottom of your calf do your eyes screw open.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you, Xavier placing a feathery trail of kisses down your calf all the way to your foot. As he tenderly kisses your ankle, his eyes open to watch you with a hungry gaze. 

“The Protocore’s effects…I think we need a stronger test,” he mutters, his mouth rubbing against your ankle still. He sets your leg on his shoulder, gently spreading your thighs apart. 

You blush as your legs part, leaving little to imagination as Xavier situates himself between your legs, one propped on his muscled shoulder and one hooked above his forearm, “Xavier?”

He doesn’t respond, eyes trained on the glistening patch of dampness that adorns your panties. It takes all of him not to drool right over your half naked form right then and there. As his head lowers to kiss your thighs, you tremble at his proximity to your throbbing cunt that leaks with desire and arousal.

“I-Is this…strong enough?” you squeak, his tongue lapping slow circles around the areas his teeth graze. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he indulges in the taste of your legs, eyeing the beautiful way your panties are creasing against the lips of your pussy. He can practically feel the heat coming off you and it makes him bite hard. 

You squeal, your back arching up and fingers reaching down to pull at his soft hair. It’s impossible not to enjoy the sharp graze of his canines and the contrastingly adoring caress of his tongue. Too distracted by the pleasure, you don’t feel the embarrassing slick dripping down your thighs.

But Xavier does.

He detaches his lips from your thighs, briefly admiring the handful of flowering red bruises littered against both your plush legs. 

“It’s…stronger. But this…” he trails off, and that’s when you feel his fingers hooking your soaked panties to the side. You yelp as his fingers languidly swipe at your folds, coating himself in your arousal and bringing it up to his mouth. 

You watch in a mixture of embarrassment and desire as he slips his fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around his digits and eyes shut in utter bliss. 

When his blonde lashes finally flutter open, his hazy pupils are dilated amongst the sea of azure, piercing into your own.

“This, I can taste,” he grins gently at you. It’s so effortlessly Xavier, yet something sinister lurks beneath his soft smile. Something that makes you shake to your very core.

You don’t have time to ponder the darkness behind his smile, because Xavier is gripping you by your hips, bringing the apex of your thighs to his waiting mouth, salivating at the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt. His eyes flit from your core to your eyes, your upper body propped up on your elbows as you watch his heated gaze devour you. 

“Please…” Xavier rasps, his voice guttural and desperate. The proximity of his face to your weeping cunt lets you feel his hot breath fan against your quivering pussy, “Please let me.”

You’re speechless, so you nod fervently, gripping his soft hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Xavier wastes no time, burying himself into you. You gasp, spine curling at the force of his demanding lips against your cunt.

You’d think Xavier had been starved for days, the way he latches onto your lips, his tongue eagerly lapping at your slit, savoring every drop of your sweet essence. You thrash at the unrelenting pleasure, as Xavier’s bruising grip holds you in place. 

“Let me enjoy you, please,” he groans, nose rubbing into your clit deliciously, “Who knows if I’ll ever be able to taste you again?”

You whimper at his filthy words, trying to stay still as he ravishes you with his skilled tongue. The lewd slurps and moans that come from him are enough to drive you to the edge of insanity, unable to contain your furious writhing. Xavier only digs his fingers harder into the plush of your thighs, doing his best to keep you in place.

Xavier moans into you, the vibrations of his pleasured sounds thrumming straight into your body. He doesn’t let a single droplet of your nectar go to waste, his tongue lapping diligently. There’s absolutely no shortage of it, as his pointed nose brushes against your clit, his tongue stroking sweetly into your lips. 

“You taste like heaven, Y/N,” Xavier moans into your folds. The vibrations of his filthy words send you reeling and you can barely hear him, only able to respond in the whiniest moans, too wrapped up in the pleasure his mouth so skillfully brings you. 

“Xavier!” you cry, toes digging into the ropes of muscles on his back.

You can vaguely feel one of Xavier’s hands abandon your thigh, moving to free his cock from under his loose robe. You can’t see much, but you can see the way his forearm jerks up and down, the veins in his arms bulging as he pleasures himself, fueled by the taste of you. 

“O-oh f-fuck!” you cry, your back arched, the soles of your feet pressing into Xavier’s back, “Xavier…p-please don’t – nngh – stop!”

Through your widely spread legs, you can see just how aroused Xavier is by your pleas. His fingers can barely wrap around his thick girth. They move up and down effortlessly, coated in his copious pre-cum. It honestly looked like he already came with just how much of his slick was smeared on himself. He’s so impossibly angry and red as he thrusts into his own fist, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips at the sight. 

You’re only snapped out of your mesmerized staring when his lips latch onto your clit, tongue lapping eagerly against the throbbing nub of nerves. His lips suckling at your clit, tongue stroking so sweetly, is just enough to have you coming completely undone all over Xavier’s face. 

You try to pull always as you feel the warm gush coming, but Xavier only holds you down harder with his arm wrapped around your thigh, his hands jerking up and down his leaking erection even more desperation. With nowhere to run, your body thrashes erratically in his forceful arm. Your back arches into the air, your head digging into the plush mattress, as you squirt over Xavier’s insistent tongue. 

You’re well into the depths of overstimulation, feebly pushing his head away, whispering brokenly, “X-Xavier. S’too much, please.”

But he can’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in your taste, in you. Your body curls in a stinging pleasure as he continues to devour you, positively starved. 

The lewd slurps of his face in your wet thighs, your unabashed moans and cries of ecstasy, the taste of your release against his greedy tongue, and his forceful grip on his cock drive him to his own orgasm. 

He forces himself to pull away, his lips wet with your slick, your body collapsing but still slightly elevated with your calf thrown over his shoulder. With his position kneeling at your feet, your right leg still by his neck, his cock spurts right onto your quivering and overstimulated pussy. 

“H-holy,” Xavier groans breathlessly, hands still jerking himself up and down as rope after rope lands on your glistening cunt. His spend is so deliciously hot against your sensitive skin that you can’t stop the full body tremors that wrack your body. His copious streams of cum start to drip off your quivering cunt, pooling on the mattress beneath you.

Xavier leans forward, clutching your thigh as his body heaves with an overwhelming  satisfaction. His fingers dig into your already bruised thighs, his breath heavy and desperate. 

You want to giggle at his ruined state, stroking his back teasingly with your toes, your calf still resting on his shoulder. Your fingers reach for his ear to caress his cheek and tease him with your words from earlier, “So little composure. Adorable”

Xavier’s gaze, longing and soft, twitches. Before you know it, your back is flat against the bed once more, both your legs pressed against your chest. Your feet hang in the air above your head, Xavier’s heaving body pressed on top of you, something hard and wet pressing into your still trembling core.

Out of sheer surprise, you cry out, “X-Xavier?” Your hands instinctively come up to cup his face.

Xavier doesn’t speak, his eyes trained on your cunt as he runs his tip up and down your folds. When he finally looks up at you, there’s a dark almost feral look in the storm of his cerulean eyes. A look of unbridled animalistic heat. 

He bends down, his beautiful face dangerously close to yours as he smirks, “Isn’t this what you wanted, angel?” 

You shiver at his unusually edged words, eyes widening as you nod gently. Unable to deny the truth of his words. You knew it, and he knew it. You absolutely always wanted him, especially when he was this unhinged. 

Xavier smiles, it’s deceptively gentle as you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes, “I know, Y/N. So, please. Let me give it to you.” Though he begs, you can tell he’s not really asking. Not that you minded. You’d give him absolutely everything. 

So you nod, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Xavier smiles, finger stroking your cheek. With his other hand, he takes his cock, rubbing his cockhead into your sopping folds, smearing his cum messily around. He’d spurt so much milky seed onto your pussy that it quite literally felt like a bottle of lube had been squirted onto you. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. For a brief second, the bright light returns to Xavier’s eyes as he adoringly watches you, with so much affection in his azure eyes. It’s gone just as quickly as it comes, his cock splitting you apart as he thrusts into you. 

You cry out, unable to do anything but take him, your legs caged against both your bodies. The mating press he has you in is so mean, his hard strong body so imposing as he thrusts into you. It’s so easy for him to slide inside you, his cum on your skin even slicker than lube. 

Xavier’s breathy moans wash over you at every single mean thrust, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours as he ruts into you like a madman. A man positively starved. And only one thing could satisfy him. 

His hands press into the mattress beside your head, his entire body boxing you in, with only your thighs separating you. You wish he could hold you closer, press deeper into you, as deep as his cock was currently in your throbbing pussy. 

“X-Xav…” your squeal. The position he has you in gives him easy access to your most sensitive spots. Xavier only moans in response, not typically a man of many words when it comes to being buried in your guts. 

Which is why you’re surprised when he grits out, “Mine.”

You’re so surprised, mind so clouded with his massive girthy cock, that you gasp out, “W-What?”

Xavier’s smirk is faint, almost imperceptible, “You’re mine. I would never leave you.”

His pointed thrusts make you cry out in pleasure, losing your train of thought again. His smile grows more confident at your inability to speak, “Isn’t that what you told James? That your partner left you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, before realizing he's talking about the man you’d been flirting with for information at the protocore trade, “J-James? You – hnngh – y-you mean Henrik’s idiot – nngh – bodyguard?” 

Xavier drives into you with an even more mind-numbing intensity at the mention of another man. You can see his jaw twitches, his eyes swimming with shadowy emotions.

“What do you think he took you up to the sixth floor for?” he growls, uncharacteristically and darkly gruff, “For this?” 

To punctuate his point he slams his pelvis into your ass, the lewd pap sound of wet skin against wet skin deafeningly loud. 

“It’s too bad for him. You’re mine.” His words are a sweet threat, with no violence and all the passion in the world behind them.

The raw possession in his voice makes you approach your orgasm far too quickly. Your thighs shake uncontrollably at the strain, but even more so at the pleasure Xavier drives into your gummy walls. His cock is so thick that your body burns with pleasure as he stretches you to your limit, your walls sucking him tightly, unwilling to let go. 

Xavier moans at the unbelievably incredible feeling of your walls tightening against him, trying to wring him into you. Xavier’s thrusts become more erratic as he comes closer to his own release, and you’re desperate to cum with him, your orgasm impossibly iminent. 

You know just how to send him over the edge, as you take his jaw into your fingers, his chest pressed into the fat of your thighs as he folds you quite literally in half. Xavier looks surprised but lets his face be guided to yours, his eyes still holding glimmers of shadows held back by a thin shred of restraint. 

“Xavier,” you whisper, trying to keep your orgasm at bay so you can experience simultaneously with the blonde haired man deliciously rearranging your guts, “I’m yours, always.” 

Xavier’s eyes darken, his eyebrows furrowing, as his body responds to your sweet words. His thrusts are harder, rougher, and all the more forceful and demanding. He’s utterly desperate to feel you cum atop his cock, his beautiful girl. Entirely and completely his. 

“Yeah? Then cum for me, please.” His voice is a guttural growl, matching the animalistic intensity of his body pounding into yours. But he stutters just a bit, as you can practically feel the veins in his thick cock throbbing against your pulsing walls.

With Xavier’s intense eyes on yours, your body folded mind numbingly against his hard chiseled body, his filthy possessive words fanning across your lips, it’s impossible to keep your orgasm back any longer. 

You cum with a strangled cry of his name, your elbows bending so your fingers can furiously claw at the sheets by your head. Xavier moans out at how tightly your cunt grips him amidst your climax, absolutely forcing the orgasm out of him. 

You’re a moaning whining mess as Xavier fucks his seed into you. Even after his first orgasm, there’s so much cum, both inside and outside. The area where your bodies are joined is a sticky mess of cum and saliva.

Xavier is no better, the grunts and babbles streaming from his own mouth an absolute symphony to your ears.

“That’s it, love,” he rasps, “So good for me. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

You stroke Xavier’s soft blonde hair as his thrusts slow to an eventual stop. His softening cock is still in you, and you wince as you can vaguely feel it slipping out. Your hips scream in discomfort, your thighs still pressed firmly into your chest as Xavier gasps for air above you. 

You whimper as he shifts, and instantly Xavier is back to his usual soft self, fawning over you, “Are you okay?” It’s honestly insane how quickly he switches, because as his blue eyes search yours, you notice the darkness is gone. All that’s left is that starry glimmering sea of ultramarine, soft, concerned, and loving.

“H-heavy,” you whine, tapping at his thick shoulders. Xavier’s off of you in a flash, his soft cock slipping out as sits on his knees before you. He hovers over you, careful not to put any weight on you, as he brushes your tangled hair off  of your sweaty forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your flushed cheek, “Was I…Did I take it too far?”

“No, never,” you mumble happily, draping your arms over his neck. Through his gentle smile that could move the stars, you can see how exhausted Xavier is, but he continues to stroke circles into your skin. His hands reach down to massage your bruised thighs, hickeys littering every inch of you. The serene intimacy of the moment is enough to lull you towards sleep, despite the mess between your legs. 

–

You must’ve nodded off for a few minutes, because when you open your bleary eyes you see Xavier between your legs, carefully wiping the sticky mess away. 

“Xav, s’okay,” you whisper sleepily, stirring in his careful hands and barely able to string together complete sentences, “Clean tomorrow, sleep now.”

“It’s okay, angel,” he murmurs, his voice so warm and dreamy. He holds you gently in place as he continues to wipe you off, “Go back to sleep.”

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands soothing your aching muscles, losing the fight against sleep, “You don’t feel tired?” 

Xavier chuckles, the sound meeting your ears even in your half-conscious state, “I can still feel. But I think I may need another…taste test.”

You can hear the mischief in his voice even if you’re too exhausted to open your eyes.

“Just sleep honey, let me take care of you.”

Something about the playful heat in his voice makes you doubt he’s just going to be cleaning you up with the warm towel he had in his hands. And the thought of that excites you beyond belief, even as you succumb to sleep. 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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Sugar on the Rim I

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

warnings: implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), mentions of sex, smut in next part

You twist the stem of the wine glass around between your fingers slowly. Your chin rests atop your knees as you stare vacantly at the tiny puddle left of the drink. You could go refill it, but then you’d have to go back out to the main room and man…you really do not want to do that. So you’ll sit here, swiping your tongue across the bumps of the roof of your mouth as if it's a fascinating new discovery.

The creak of hinges has you shooting upright, your back thumping against the stair step behind you. You’re not immediately sure how to act as though it’s normal that you’re sitting in the stairwell outside the gala rather than in it, fraternizing with old and new money alike. You freeze, trying to relax your posture so it doesn’t look like you’re alarmed at the sight of another person, but not so relaxed that you look as bored as you are.

Your neutrality stutters when you glance up to find the host of the fundraiser. The billionaire host of the fundraiser. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire host of the fundraiser. Your posture straightens right back up and your mouth snaps shut as you make eye contact.

Should you stand up? 

No, he’s rich, not royalty. 

You are in his house though—

He looks you over contemplatively, “I don’t know you,” It’s not accusatory, rather he says it like it’s something interesting.

You perk up at that, immediately formulating reasons to justify your presence. “Oh, uh, no—” the words nearly spill out of your mouth all at once. You clear your throat, “I’m just a plus one for my boss—”

“Who’s your boss?” he asks, relaxed. 

“Arthur Mullins.”

He looks to the side, squinting, “Mullins…he’s the executive at Williamson Industries, yes?”

You nod and he returns the gesture, slower, like he’s processing through something. “I’m Bruce,” he says warmly after a moment, holding his hand out to you.

You nod before you can even think to get any words to come out, “I—yeah, I know,” you accept his hand, shaking it as you tell him your name.

There’s a slight glint in his eye when he hears your name, and he repeats it quietly to himself. “A pretty name.”

“Oh, it’s just…” Just your name. But rather than fill him in on that fascinating tidbit, you let the sentence die off.

He smiles kindly anyway, “What are you doing in here? Party’s out there, or so they tell me.”

“I…I’m hiding in here,” you admit sheepishly.

He leans in towards you slightly, lowering his voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret—so am I,” he smiles at you like it’s easy.

Your grin matches his, “It’s your party,”

“That’s why I need to hide.” He tilts his head, “Doesn’t give you much of an excuse though, does it?”

“I don’t know anybody here.”

He puckers his bottom lip contemplatively, “Your boss.”

You shake your head, “I’m just his assistant. I’m pretty sure he just brought me as a precaution in case he needed a designated driver.”

He laughs at that, “Based on the way I’ve seen Mullins’ attempts to operate, his assistant would have to be a hell of a lot more important than just a designated driver.”

Well, he’s certainly right about that. Your boss doesn’t exactly “have it together” per se. He’s an unorganized man with little to justify his importance in Gotham, so he tends to insist on taking on more responsibility than he has any business having. Not to mention, he’s a bit of a try-hard and you’re constantly left to sweep up the pieces of his reputation that he shattered himself. Not to say he’s necessarily unprofessional, he just will do anything and everything to prove he belongs in any given space. It’s honestly a bit exhausting to watch. It’s more exhausting to try and convince him that the exchange went well afterwards.

You nod slowly, eyes on his shoes. “Mr. Mullins has…a unique approach to business. It does usually leave me fairly busy, I’ll give you that.” You take a quick deep breath, plastering on a fake smile. “But that means I occasionally get to go to fancy parties where I don’t know anyone, so..”

“Well then it sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” he ribs, “Or don’t you agree?”

You smile coyly, “I would never be so bold.”

“I don’t mind boldness. For example, the reason I came in here is because he spotted me.”

You laugh at that, “Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Mr. Wayne,” you suppress your smile as you pause, choosing your words carefully. “I think he’s just networking.” He doesn’t have the money to give.

He nods surely, “He’s definitely just networking.” He really doesn’t have the money to give. You allow just the faintest wisp of a smile to adorn your face as you look down again.

You check the time and realize that you’ve been hiding away for too long and that if he hasn’t already, your boss will notice soon. You sigh quietly to yourself, “I should..”

He turns his head to the closed door where the chatter can be heard from beyond, sighing in defeat as he shakes his head looking back at you. “So should I.”

You feel a bit insecure as you stand, the gown you’re wearing is pretty but it is very much affordable and you’re sure someone as wealthy as Bruce Wayne would know the difference.

If he does notice he makes no deal of it, motioning you forward gallantly to walk ahead of him.

He follows after you, hands behind his back. “Would it be rude of me to ask you to distract him while I run for the bar?”

It’s busy, even for a Sunday afternoon, and you have to sidestep past someone nearly every step you take. You stick next to the windows of the line of boutiques down the road, trying to balance window shopping and not bumping into other pedestrians.

You're in a nicer district of Gotham, truthfully an area you don't quite belong in. So far you’ve only managed to find a couple shops that weren’t several ranges above your budget. 

A call of your name has you blinking rapidly and turning around as if you’re lost. It doesn’t take long for you to pick the six foot two billionaire out of the crowd and it’s only half a second longer before you realize he’s walking towards you. A few people collide shoulders with you as they move past thoughtlessly, no regard for the personal space of the idiot that stopped in the flow of traffic.

You let him approach a couple feet closer before you ask him, “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Wayne?” The presence of his figure in front of you allows for a break from being bumped into, as he seemingly makes for a far more easily seen and intentionally avoided target.

He sways a bit, “Bruce. I’m not sure yet,” he looks down to the couple of bags you’re holding, extending his hand out. “May I?”

It takes you just a moment to move past your surprise at the request, allowing him to hold them for you. “Are you in a rush?”

You shake your head quicker than you meant to, “No, I—not at all,” he gestures his head forward, allowing you to walk before him.

You traipse ahead in silence for a moment before deciding against biting your tongue, “What exactly is it you’re not sure about?”

He raises his voice a bit so you can hear him over the crowd, “Whether or not you’ve got plans on the 19th.”

You look back at him, “What’s on the 19th?”

He stops with you as you admire a set of jewelry inside a window display, “We’re hosting a gala for something or something else, hopefully less boring than the fundraiser.”

You blink, “You’re inviting me?” He nods. “Why?”

“I could use someone who wants to be there even less than I do.”

He said it so casually it takes you a second to even register his meaning. You blink, face contorting defensively, “That’s not—” you can barely make out the smile on his face as he continues on walking.

You shake your composure back together and trail after him, rushing to catch up. “I don’t think Mr. Mullins would be very happy to hear that I’m attending a business gala without him.”

He shakes his head as he scans over the crowd, “He can’t fire you for that.”

“He’ll try.” He would. A petty little man, he is. 

He scans across the rows of clothes leisurely. “Well, then he can speak to me about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be for business.” And then he just lets that sentence linger.

It takes you a moment to recover from those words and begin to start processing the world around you again. After a few more feet down the sidewalk he pulls you gently to the side by your lower arm, out of the rush of traffic, and looks at you dead on, “What do you think?”

You try not to waver under the weight of the eye contact, “I don’t…uh, I don’t really have…” you look down, hoping to get the message across without actually having to say the words.

He glances into the store window next to you and raises his eyebrows, “Well then I’d say we’re in the right place.”

You can’t manage to tell him that this store is definitely far too expensive for you, walking through the door as he opens it for you, albeit apprehensively.

Well. Up close window shopping is more fun anyways. 

The spotless white of the floors and walls has you intimidated, and just as much so by less by the no doubt designer clothes lining the walls. The saleswomen all look pretty highbrow themselves, hair up in tight buns and uniforms chic.

You only break from gawking at the store to look behind you at Bruce. You note the way his eyes roam around blindly, looking for something and clearly having no means to narrow down where it might be. You take one more glance around, immediately finding the women's section with no such difficulty. 

“This way.” You say, nodding your head over to the left. He recovers nicely and lets you lead the way towards the section of dresses. You peer back at him, “You don’t seem like someone that does much of his own shopping.”

Thankfully, he laughs at that. “Well, special occasions.”

You keep your gaze ahead this time, asking as casually as you can, “Is this a special occasion?”

He hums in consideration, “I’d say so.”

You stop upon approaching the dress section, taking in the immediately stunning display of options. 

“What are you doing up here anyways?” you ask, hand brushing across a particularly plush dress.

“Ah, I was headed to a meeting.”

“Oh,” you frown, looking at him. “Don’t you need to go?”

He shakes his head with a puckered lower lip, “No.”

A few seemingly heiresses roam down the aisle mindlessly, not caring much that you’re in their path. 

Bruce sees them before you do, knowing well that they were not going to excuse themselves. “Sweetheart,” he nudges you gently to the side, closer to him as the group passes. His hand remained open-palmed and flat as he guided you to the side, seemingly very careful not to touch you with uninvited boldness. Though you’re quite shaken by the chivalry of the gesture, a brazen touch wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

As your arm brushes against a rack of clothing your gaze follows, met with something rather appealing.

Bruce is quick to notice you admiring the sleek black dress that looks like something you’d see a model wearing on a runway. “You like that one?”

“It’s nice, yeah,” you murmur, not really thinking. You flip the price tag over and your face drops. “It’s $800.”

He nods thoughtfully, “We can find a nicer one,” he says, though it’s clear he knows exactly what your problem with the price tag was.

“I can’t—” you restart, “I would never have a reason to wear something this nice again.”

He shakes his head coolly, “That’s alright.”

Your shoulders drop and your head tilts seriously, “It’s not, though.”

“You like it?” He looks you in the eyes, his own searching for a truthful answer.

“I mean, of course, but it—”

He nods affirmatively, “Then we’ll get it. Problem solved.” He turns his back to the rack, casually observing the rest of the store goers. “Pick your size.”

Apparently not one to argue, you thumb through the row until you find one that should fit. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re running out of time to mention that you don’t have $800 to spend on a dress. “I can’t—”

“You don’t need to,” he says simply as he takes the dress off the rack and drapes it across his arm, making his way towards the salescounter.

You try to stop your mouth from hanging open as you follow, “It really is okay, I don’t need—”

His grin cuts you off, just in time for you to hear him mutter, “Sweet girl..” to himself. You stop right in your tracks, feeling very thankful that he’s not looking at you right now because you’re certain the look on your face would give you away.

He still doesn’t face you as he calls out, “Come on,” as he continues on.

Obviously you’re not stupid. You know what type of intentions a billionaire playboy must have with a younger girl that he doesn’t even really know. However, if said billionaire is offering to buy you a pretty dress…no, you’re not sleeping with him because he bought you a dress—of course not—and you’ve made absolutely no promises to do so, so what’s the harm in letting him? Really?

And yeah, maybe it’s a plus that he’s not bad looking, but how is that your fault?

You stand a bit awkwardly next to him as he puts his card in the machine, not even glancing at the outrageous number, and declines the offer for the receipt.

As you exit the store together and stand at the doors as he hands your original two bags back to you along with the new shiny black one that on its own looks like something people would pay for.

“You will be there?” he asks, eyes more hopeful than you were prepared for. 

You nod, gesturing the bag up, “Well you just bought me the dress.”

He shrugs that off, “I would’ve bought you the dress anyways.”

You linger in the midst of the ado wearing a dress that you feel far too overshadowed by, fidgeting with the half empty wine glass in your hand. Unfortunately, this time around you were invited by the host of the event and it would be extra rude to run away and hide. That doesn’t stop you from considering it, though.

A hand sliding across your lower back has you momentarily startled, and for reasons you couldn’t quite verbalize, you’d naturally assumed it was Bruce. The disappointment rings strong when you turn around to be met with the sight of an even older man, who looks considerably wine drunk. 

“Hello there, Miss.,” The words themselves are polite but the salacious smile on his face and the way his eyes have no trouble roaming your body gives you a solid idea of what this conversation is going to entail.

“Hello,” you fake a polite, tight smile and shift your attention to the rest of the room. 

This does nothing to deter him, as he takes a sizable step back into your line of sight. “Having a nice time?” 

The man is clearly from money, if his attire didn’t give it away his attitude sure did. There’s an heir of entitlement around him, like he’s inherently deservant of your attention—a quality you were notably surprised to not have found in Bruce. 

You give him your faux-smile again, this time tighter but half a second longer for the sake of politeness. A rookie mistake.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, gesturing to the bar.

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say, gesturing your wine glass up.

A momentary flash of irritation crosses his face, but to his credit, he does a better job recovering from it than you would have expected. Though, that’s not really saying much. “Well, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be all alone here,”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Both of your heads snap to the side, finding a much more welcome surprise than you’d previously received. 

Your counterpart's posture straightens immediately, “Mr. Wayne,” he fawns, “What a lovely event you’ve thrown. I’m sure the Bernsteins will be appreciative.”

Bruce hums, eyes narrowed slightly. “You are…”

The man startles and rushes to finish off his sentence, “Alexander Watson, senior executive to the accounting department for the research wing of the company.”

He nods slowly, no recognition actually present in his eyes. “Ah. The research wing of the company that just blew fifteen million dollars on prototype self-operating cell phones.”

You’re trying hard to fight the smile creeping up on your face.

“What exactly is a self-operating cell phone?”

Watson’s face drops, hurrying to justify his approval of the proposal’s funding. As he rambles, Bruce’s gaze lowers to where Watson has once again placed his hand on your hip, though he’s not close enough to you for it to rest fully or naturally. You don’t know him well but you can say confidently that he doesn’t look pleased. 

He looks back up to Watson, attitude challenging. “Surely you’re not poking around where you’re unwelcome?”

Watson stutters at that, blinking and shaking his head quickly. “No, no, of course not! I was just hoping to provide the young lady with some company. That’s all.”

“And so you have.”

“I—,” about two steps behind in this conversation, Watson finally decides to retreat, “Yes, good evening, Mr. Wayne.” He bows his head and shuffles away back into the crowd.

“Mr. Wayne,” you smile knowingly, turning to him. “How are you?”

The hardness of his gaze fades quickly as he takes in your appearance, quite liking how you wear the dress you’d picked out.

“Things are looking up,” he smiles, “You look lovely.”

 “Thank you,” you glance over to where Watson has made his way to the bar, likely about to down an entire glass. “Mr., uh, Mr. Watson makes quite the impression.”

His smile turns a bit sullen, “You know last year he tried to convince the board that battery-powered battery chargers were going to be the next big thing?”

You blink, tilting your head, “Thought you didn’t know who he was.”

His eyes are fixed on the wall as he tugs the corner of his lip down, knowing he’s been caught but not really caring. “I’m sorry to have been away for so long, it seems everyone needs my attention at these things.”

“At the gala that you threw? I’d imagine so.”

He rolls past that smoothly, “You’re having a good time?”

“I am,” you say with a confirming head bob.

He regards the room with a numb expression, “You know, I think I’m getting bored with all of this.”

You smile at him, brow furrowed, “It’s only been an hour.”

He looks at you, eyes wide. “It’s only been an hour?” He’s exaggerating his surprise to make you smile, and it works.

“I think we should go,” he says lower.

You stare at him, bemused. “You still have a whole room full of guests.” 

He shrugs, “They’ll filter out on their own eventually.” 

He clocks your hesitation easily, accurately noting it to be more out of politeness than actually wanting to stay at the party. “What, you’re not ready to leave?”

You look around at all the mostly old, posh guests, disinterested small talk evident all across the room. You take a breath, “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

He smiles and leads you out a side door and through a corridor that’s significantly longer than you’d expected. 

“Do you always ditch your parties this early?” you ask, following closely.

He makes a sharp right at the next doorway, “If I can manage it.”

You look around at the high wooden ceilings and grand furniture. “Aren’t some of them friends of yours?”

He shakes his head, “My friends aren’t here.”

You frown at that, “Then why do you throw them at all?”

“Why did you show up last weekend?”

You nod slowly, understanding. “It’s your job.”

He returns the nod, adding, “Only difference is, there’s not a chance in hell you get paid enough for the work you do for Mullins.”

For the sake of maintaining your wishful facade of professionalism, you’re going to not acknowledge that incredibly accurate statement. Instead you smile politely and continue on walking. He seems to get the implication, returning it with an even brighter adornment.

“Well, money’s money,” you say wryly.

His smile fades a bit, “You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that.” 

You shrug, “A day in the life,”

He looks sullen upon hearing that, with more sympathy than you’d have expected from someone of his stature. He’s done nothing if not surprise you, though.

“Here,” he says, taking hold of the handle of a glass door. It opens to a garden, lit up beautifully by the moon and outdoor light. A fountain sits in the middle, water rhythmically gushing out of the top and trickling down the sides. The bite of the Gotham night air burns at your cheeks a bit and you find yourself thankful the dress you’d chosen is so long.

Bruce leads the way to an expensive marble bench positioned nicely in front of it, allowing you to sit first before following suit. Your hands find a place in your lap, clasped together awkwardly in an attempt to find warmth through contact.

It takes Bruce less than ten seconds to stand, remove his suit jacket, and drape it over your shoulders before sitting back down. The material is thicker and warmer than you would’ve expected, surely reminiscent of the perks of being owned by a billionaire.

He doesn’t look at you to acknowledge the grateful expression on your face, simply carrying on like it didn’t happen. “Was hoping it was warmer,” he murmurs.

Your focus momentarily goes to the icy cold stone of the bench under your thighs, initially finding it uncomfortable before deciding the coolness actually felt quite soothing. You remove your gaze from the gray stone and turn your head to find Bruce already focused on you.

You start to say something, though you’re not sure what it would’ve been, when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down.

Well, he certainly knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

His eyes stay on your lower lip as he murmurs, “You’re a pretty girl, you know that?” 

God, he’s a professional.

You look up at him and refrain from saying anything, waiting to see if he follows it up with something that will make you regret agreeing to coming out here with him.

He doesn’t.

You shift, moving your hands off your lap to rest on the stone under you. “You can’t just do this—”

He smiles and lowers his chin to look you in the eyes, “Then what can I do for you?”

“You—” you blink rapidly, “Stop it.”

His coy beam persists, “Stop what?”

You raise your gaze up to him ever so slightly, a pouty expression across your face that you’re trying to sell as serious. “You’re trying to make me nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous?” He tilts his head down further, a ghost of a smile echoing on his lips, “I don’t mean to, sweet girl.”

Your eyes drop to the ground, biting your tongue. “Yeah.”

His simper grows, “I’m serious. I’d hate to scare away a new friend.”

You laugh at that and he perks up a bit at the sound, “What? We’re not friends?”

You cock your head to the side, “You’re the one who said none of your friends are here.”

He hums, “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“You think so?” You should probably stop flirting so much. 

“Yeah,” he leans in a bit closer, “I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Maybe I want to be your friend,” his hand finds a place atop yours. 

Your eyes flicker across his face as he closes in, “What if I don’t want to be yours?”

His eyes are on your lips, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

You take a slow deep breath, “Your intentions are blurry.”

He smiles lightly, amused. “We’ll have to clear that up then, won’t we?” His lips are inches away and his voice is soft as he says, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You look up at him eyes wide, barely processing his words as you nod. He gently grasps your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up. His other hand finds the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you with intention. Your hands hover in the air for a second before holding onto his forearms. 

He breaks the kiss only to give you another sweet one right after. Your mouths remain close when it’s over, eyes still shut, trying to catch your breath. You stay like that for a moment until he kisses you once more on your cheekbone before pulling away. His hands drop to rest on your knees, the weight of them gentle.

He hums lowly, “Sweet thing..”

Being under the heaviness of his gaze leaves you feeling vulnerable. It’s starting to get you concerned with the potential levity and implications of kissing him. The expectations.

“You…” you stare down at where his hands meet your skin, not quite sure that you actually meant to start that sentence. 

“What?” he frowns, brow pinched. Your chin lowers further as your mouth forms a tight line. He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. What is it?” he asks gently.

It takes a surge of willpower for you to get the sentence out, “You just want to sleep with me..”

He frowns harder at that, pulling back a bit. “No. I’m…” he sighs, “I’m not trying to lure you in just to toss you out right after.”

That makes you look up again. His voice has a sincerity to it that you weren’t prepared for. 

He continues, “I would like to, yes. Yeah. You’re beautiful, of course I would, but..” he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you, “No, that’s not the most important thing to me.”

You break eye contact again, thinking over his words. If that’s not the most important thing to him, what is? You can’t think of what else he could possibly want from you, a billionaire who could have anything he wants..the only thing you could have to offer in his eyes is sex. 

Right?

He exhales, “If you want to leave, I’ll call you a car. No hard feelings.” He nudges your chin up gently so you’ll look at him, but he gives you the freedom to fight against it if you wanted to.

You let him move you.

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him, looking into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want,” he says it like it’s automatic. You physically can’t help but roll your eyes at the corniness of it. He doubles down, though, “Seriously. Anything.”

You smile in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Alright,” he returns your smile, straightening, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Do you need a ride home?”

You blink at him, “I’m going home?”

“You are,” he nods softly, “Do you need a ride?”

“No.”

He nods again, more like he’s working through something in his head. “Okay. You’re going to go home and think through what you want. If you decide you want to, come back here next Saturday.” he stands up, extending his hand out to you, “Then you can let me know what else you want and we can get to work on that too.”

You start to shake your head, “I can—” 

He drops his chin seriously, “Think on it.”

You relent easily, taking his hand and coming to a stand.

“Alright?” Again, his question is genuine. He does really want to know if you’re on board with this plan. 

Already going against his request, you agree without a thought, “Okay.”

He starts to lead you back over to the garden door with a head nod and a kind smile.

It ultimately was not a decision you had to think very hard on.

You’d considered every scenario of how this could play out and none of them ended with regret as far as you could guess.

You’ll still admit though, there was one scenario you had missed, apparently, which is why you were immeasurably confused when you showed up and he invited you to play chess.

He’s not wearing a fancy three piece suit this time, but his clothes are still very nice. With the sunlight peeking through the windows, you’re able to see the manor more clearly than you had been the other night. It really is a beautiful home, clearly very old and charmed, but there’s a lot of little details of character and history scattered around. There’s portraits and photographs of his parents from when he was young and furniture decorated with trinkets all throughout, kept absolutely spotless and dust free. Everything is neat and tidy but there’s still traces of the house being lived in with the patched throw pillows and worn carpets. Still, it’s very, very placid.

You’ve met new money plenty of times over the course of dealing with countless businessmen for Mr. Mullins but old money is something entirely different. You don’t really have a frame of reference here. New money is almost always brash and demanding, they like things done quickly and correctly the first time around. They’re usually not very interested in hearing what you have to say (even if it would save them a lot of trouble) and prefer it when the assistants women keep their mouths shut. Bruce has proven to be very different from these standards already and you’re not sure where to begin with placing new ones.

You’re about halfway through a second game, and while you’re not awful at chess, you get the impression that he’s easing up on you considerably.

You sit on the floor in front of a short coffee table, the game having no clear lead so far.

“I think this is stressing me,” you mumble, no actual weight behind your words.

“It’s just chess,” he says, not looking up from the board.

You watch him move his knight forward as you ask, “And that’s all we’re doing?”

“As it stands, yes,” he looks up at you, though you don’t return his gaze.

“Yeah,” you sigh, sliding your rook, “But later?”

“Later?”

“Well, you said...” you meet his eyes, “You said you wanted to sleep with me.”

He nods slowly, “I do. Is that alright?”

You consider it for a moment. You already knew that, if you really weren’t okay with it you wouldn’t have come here. And yeah, the idea makes you a little shaky, but in a good way.

“Yes,” you tell him, moving your queen forward two spaces.

“Are you sure?” he presses, moving to sit on the side of the table rather than behind it.

You do the same, sitting on your knees. “Yeah, I just..” you shift your weight, eyes wandering. “I’m not…overly experienced.”

He just smiles at that, like it’s endearing. Your words didn’t quite convey your meaning but your tone did. In any case, he understands the implication. “That’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not going to throw you in the deep end.”

You nod, looking down again.

“You’re nervous,” he comments.

“No, I’m—I mean, maybe,” your voice is barely a murmur by the end of the sentence.

He’s quiet for a moment, observing the way you fiddle with your rings. “What if we get you something pretty to wear? Something that makes you feel pretty. Whatever you want.”

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, opening and pulling out a lump of cash without even looking. He holds the money out to you wordlessly and you can see from the bill on the outside that it’s at least a couple hundred dollars.

You shake your head instantly, “I can’t take that.”

He doesn’t put the money down but his eyes turn to begging. “Please. I just want you to feel good.”

“Bruce—”

He wavers a bit at that but it’s more of a falter than you’ve seen from him before so it’s easy to take notice of. “What?”

He shrugs barely, “I like when you say my name.”

Your eye contact holds for a moment and your resolve starts to shake almost instantly.

You exhale, “I’m not taking more than a hundred.”

“Two hundred.”

“Bruce.”

He smiles and picks out some of the cash and pockets it, handing you the rest. You don’t comment on the fact that it’s a hundred and fifty more than you’d agreed on.

You look down at the money in your hand like it’s a foreign object, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what to get.”

His thumbs start to rub reassuring circles by the bend of your knees, “Anything you want,” he tells you. “What do you like? Silk, lace, cotton, anything.”

You look up, tilting your head at him with a furrowed brow. “It doesn’t matter what I like, th—”

“It only matters what you like,” He says seriously, lowering himself to meet your gaze. “I’ll love it, no matter what you pick. Don’t worry about that.”

You lean forward a bit instinctually, “Okay.”

His eyes scan across your face in something that you can only recognize as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper.

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, voice even quieter.

Your eyes go to his mouth and you can only manage a nod, lips already parted.

He moves forward not a second later, kissing you with more fire than you’d gotten to see the other night. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing lightly as you hook one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

You hear the clatter of chess pieces falling over as he moves nearer to you, large frame leaning over you. You push up on your knees, meeting his lips up at his level. His hands caress around your hips as the kiss gets deeper.

You just start to fumble with the hem of his shirt when he takes your hands in his, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he smiles, nudging you back with little force.

You groan, “Why?”

He barks out a laugh at that, stroking your hips again. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on the floor.”

“Then let's go somewhere else,” you nod up towards the stairs.

He shakes his head, that soft smile still playing on his lips. “Not tonight.”

You sit back on your heels again, frowning.

He brushes your hair back, murmuring, “No. But for now, I'll kiss you ‘til you can’t think if that’s what you want.”

You really hope you didn’t perk up at that as much as you think you did.

🌾🌽 i heard a rumor that if you like without reblogging your crops will be cursed but hey what do i know 🌾🌽

when he effortlessly picks us up with one hand.

he can throw me, manhandle me, toss me anytime

Sugar on the Rim I

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

warnings: implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), mentions of sex, smut in next part

You twist the stem of the wine glass around between your fingers slowly. Your chin rests atop your knees as you stare vacantly at the tiny puddle left of the drink. You could go refill it, but then you’d have to go back out to the main room and man…you really do not want to do that. So you’ll sit here, swiping your tongue across the bumps of the roof of your mouth as if it's a fascinating new discovery.

The creak of hinges has you shooting upright, your back thumping against the stair step behind you. You’re not immediately sure how to act as though it’s normal that you’re sitting in the stairwell outside the gala rather than in it, fraternizing with old and new money alike. You freeze, trying to relax your posture so it doesn’t look like you’re alarmed at the sight of another person, but not so relaxed that you look as bored as you are.

Your neutrality stutters when you glance up to find the host of the fundraiser. The billionaire host of the fundraiser. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire host of the fundraiser. Your posture straightens right back up and your mouth snaps shut as you make eye contact.

Should you stand up? 

No, he’s rich, not royalty. 

You are in his house though—

He looks you over contemplatively, “I don’t know you,” It’s not accusatory, rather he says it like it’s something interesting.

You perk up at that, immediately formulating reasons to justify your presence. “Oh, uh, no—” the words nearly spill out of your mouth all at once. You clear your throat, “I’m just a plus one for my boss—”

“Who’s your boss?” he asks, relaxed. 

“Arthur Mullins.”

He looks to the side, squinting, “Mullins…he’s the executive at Williamson Industries, yes?”

You nod and he returns the gesture, slower, like he’s processing through something. “I’m Bruce,” he says warmly after a moment, holding his hand out to you.

You nod before you can even think to get any words to come out, “I—yeah, I know,” you accept his hand, shaking it as you tell him your name.

There’s a slight glint in his eye when he hears your name, and he repeats it quietly to himself. “A pretty name.”

“Oh, it’s just…” Just your name. But rather than fill him in on that fascinating tidbit, you let the sentence die off.

He smiles kindly anyway, “What are you doing in here? Party’s out there, or so they tell me.”

“I…I’m hiding in here,” you admit sheepishly.

He leans in towards you slightly, lowering his voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret—so am I,” he smiles at you like it’s easy.

Your grin matches his, “It’s your party,”

“That’s why I need to hide.” He tilts his head, “Doesn’t give you much of an excuse though, does it?”

“I don’t know anybody here.”

He puckers his bottom lip contemplatively, “Your boss.”

You shake your head, “I’m just his assistant. I’m pretty sure he just brought me as a precaution in case he needed a designated driver.”

He laughs at that, “Based on the way I’ve seen Mullins’ attempts to operate, his assistant would have to be a hell of a lot more important than just a designated driver.”

Well, he’s certainly right about that. Your boss doesn’t exactly “have it together” per se. He’s an unorganized man with little to justify his importance in Gotham, so he tends to insist on taking on more responsibility than he has any business having. Not to mention, he’s a bit of a try-hard and you’re constantly left to sweep up the pieces of his reputation that he shattered himself. Not to say he’s necessarily unprofessional, he just will do anything and everything to prove he belongs in any given space. It’s honestly a bit exhausting to watch. It’s more exhausting to try and convince him that the exchange went well afterwards.

You nod slowly, eyes on his shoes. “Mr. Mullins has…a unique approach to business. It does usually leave me fairly busy, I’ll give you that.” You take a quick deep breath, plastering on a fake smile. “But that means I occasionally get to go to fancy parties where I don’t know anyone, so..”

“Well then it sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” he ribs, “Or don’t you agree?”

You smile coyly, “I would never be so bold.”

“I don’t mind boldness. For example, the reason I came in here is because he spotted me.”

You laugh at that, “Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Mr. Wayne,” you suppress your smile as you pause, choosing your words carefully. “I think he’s just networking.” He doesn’t have the money to give.

He nods surely, “He’s definitely just networking.” He really doesn’t have the money to give. You allow just the faintest wisp of a smile to adorn your face as you look down again.

You check the time and realize that you’ve been hiding away for too long and that if he hasn’t already, your boss will notice soon. You sigh quietly to yourself, “I should..”

He turns his head to the closed door where the chatter can be heard from beyond, sighing in defeat as he shakes his head looking back at you. “So should I.”

You feel a bit insecure as you stand, the gown you’re wearing is pretty but it is very much affordable and you’re sure someone as wealthy as Bruce Wayne would know the difference.

If he does notice he makes no deal of it, motioning you forward gallantly to walk ahead of him.

He follows after you, hands behind his back. “Would it be rude of me to ask you to distract him while I run for the bar?”

It’s busy, even for a Sunday afternoon, and you have to sidestep past someone nearly every step you take. You stick next to the windows of the line of boutiques down the road, trying to balance window shopping and not bumping into other pedestrians.

You're in a nicer district of Gotham, truthfully an area you don't quite belong in. So far you’ve only managed to find a couple shops that weren’t several ranges above your budget. 

A call of your name has you blinking rapidly and turning around as if you’re lost. It doesn’t take long for you to pick the six foot two billionaire out of the crowd and it’s only half a second longer before you realize he’s walking towards you. A few people collide shoulders with you as they move past thoughtlessly, no regard for the personal space of the idiot that stopped in the flow of traffic.

You let him approach a couple feet closer before you ask him, “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Wayne?” The presence of his figure in front of you allows for a break from being bumped into, as he seemingly makes for a far more easily seen and intentionally avoided target.

He sways a bit, “Bruce. I’m not sure yet,” he looks down to the couple of bags you’re holding, extending his hand out. “May I?”

It takes you just a moment to move past your surprise at the request, allowing him to hold them for you. “Are you in a rush?”

You shake your head quicker than you meant to, “No, I—not at all,” he gestures his head forward, allowing you to walk before him.

You traipse ahead in silence for a moment before deciding against biting your tongue, “What exactly is it you’re not sure about?”

He raises his voice a bit so you can hear him over the crowd, “Whether or not you’ve got plans on the 19th.”

You look back at him, “What’s on the 19th?”

He stops with you as you admire a set of jewelry inside a window display, “We’re hosting a gala for something or something else, hopefully less boring than the fundraiser.”

You blink, “You’re inviting me?” He nods. “Why?”

“I could use someone who wants to be there even less than I do.”

He said it so casually it takes you a second to even register his meaning. You blink, face contorting defensively, “That’s not—” you can barely make out the smile on his face as he continues on walking.

You shake your composure back together and trail after him, rushing to catch up. “I don’t think Mr. Mullins would be very happy to hear that I’m attending a business gala without him.”

He shakes his head as he scans over the crowd, “He can’t fire you for that.”

“He’ll try.” He would. A petty little man, he is. 

He scans across the rows of clothes leisurely. “Well, then he can speak to me about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be for business.” And then he just lets that sentence linger.

It takes you a moment to recover from those words and begin to start processing the world around you again. After a few more feet down the sidewalk he pulls you gently to the side by your lower arm, out of the rush of traffic, and looks at you dead on, “What do you think?”

You try not to waver under the weight of the eye contact, “I don’t…uh, I don’t really have…” you look down, hoping to get the message across without actually having to say the words.

He glances into the store window next to you and raises his eyebrows, “Well then I’d say we’re in the right place.”

You can’t manage to tell him that this store is definitely far too expensive for you, walking through the door as he opens it for you, albeit apprehensively.

Well. Up close window shopping is more fun anyways. 

The spotless white of the floors and walls has you intimidated, and just as much so by less by the no doubt designer clothes lining the walls. The saleswomen all look pretty highbrow themselves, hair up in tight buns and uniforms chic.

You only break from gawking at the store to look behind you at Bruce. You note the way his eyes roam around blindly, looking for something and clearly having no means to narrow down where it might be. You take one more glance around, immediately finding the women's section with no such difficulty. 

“This way.” You say, nodding your head over to the left. He recovers nicely and lets you lead the way towards the section of dresses. You peer back at him, “You don’t seem like someone that does much of his own shopping.”

Thankfully, he laughs at that. “Well, special occasions.”

You keep your gaze ahead this time, asking as casually as you can, “Is this a special occasion?”

He hums in consideration, “I’d say so.”

You stop upon approaching the dress section, taking in the immediately stunning display of options. 

“What are you doing up here anyways?” you ask, hand brushing across a particularly plush dress.

“Ah, I was headed to a meeting.”

“Oh,” you frown, looking at him. “Don’t you need to go?”

He shakes his head with a puckered lower lip, “No.”

A few seemingly heiresses roam down the aisle mindlessly, not caring much that you’re in their path. 

Bruce sees them before you do, knowing well that they were not going to excuse themselves. “Sweetheart,” he nudges you gently to the side, closer to him as the group passes. His hand remained open-palmed and flat as he guided you to the side, seemingly very careful not to touch you with uninvited boldness. Though you’re quite shaken by the chivalry of the gesture, a brazen touch wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

As your arm brushes against a rack of clothing your gaze follows, met with something rather appealing.

Bruce is quick to notice you admiring the sleek black dress that looks like something you’d see a model wearing on a runway. “You like that one?”

“It’s nice, yeah,” you murmur, not really thinking. You flip the price tag over and your face drops. “It’s $800.”

He nods thoughtfully, “We can find a nicer one,” he says, though it’s clear he knows exactly what your problem with the price tag was.

“I can’t—” you restart, “I would never have a reason to wear something this nice again.”

He shakes his head coolly, “That’s alright.”

Your shoulders drop and your head tilts seriously, “It’s not, though.”

“You like it?” He looks you in the eyes, his own searching for a truthful answer.

“I mean, of course, but it—”

He nods affirmatively, “Then we’ll get it. Problem solved.” He turns his back to the rack, casually observing the rest of the store goers. “Pick your size.”

Apparently not one to argue, you thumb through the row until you find one that should fit. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re running out of time to mention that you don’t have $800 to spend on a dress. “I can’t—”

“You don’t need to,” he says simply as he takes the dress off the rack and drapes it across his arm, making his way towards the salescounter.

You try to stop your mouth from hanging open as you follow, “It really is okay, I don’t need—”

His grin cuts you off, just in time for you to hear him mutter, “Sweet girl..” to himself. You stop right in your tracks, feeling very thankful that he’s not looking at you right now because you’re certain the look on your face would give you away.

He still doesn’t face you as he calls out, “Come on,” as he continues on.

Obviously you’re not stupid. You know what type of intentions a billionaire playboy must have with a younger girl that he doesn’t even really know. However, if said billionaire is offering to buy you a pretty dress…no, you’re not sleeping with him because he bought you a dress—of course not—and you’ve made absolutely no promises to do so, so what’s the harm in letting him? Really?

And yeah, maybe it’s a plus that he’s not bad looking, but how is that your fault?

You stand a bit awkwardly next to him as he puts his card in the machine, not even glancing at the outrageous number, and declines the offer for the receipt.

As you exit the store together and stand at the doors as he hands your original two bags back to you along with the new shiny black one that on its own looks like something people would pay for.

“You will be there?” he asks, eyes more hopeful than you were prepared for. 

You nod, gesturing the bag up, “Well you just bought me the dress.”

He shrugs that off, “I would’ve bought you the dress anyways.”

You linger in the midst of the ado wearing a dress that you feel far too overshadowed by, fidgeting with the half empty wine glass in your hand. Unfortunately, this time around you were invited by the host of the event and it would be extra rude to run away and hide. That doesn’t stop you from considering it, though.

A hand sliding across your lower back has you momentarily startled, and for reasons you couldn’t quite verbalize, you’d naturally assumed it was Bruce. The disappointment rings strong when you turn around to be met with the sight of an even older man, who looks considerably wine drunk. 

“Hello there, Miss.,” The words themselves are polite but the salacious smile on his face and the way his eyes have no trouble roaming your body gives you a solid idea of what this conversation is going to entail.

“Hello,” you fake a polite, tight smile and shift your attention to the rest of the room. 

This does nothing to deter him, as he takes a sizable step back into your line of sight. “Having a nice time?” 

The man is clearly from money, if his attire didn’t give it away his attitude sure did. There’s an heir of entitlement around him, like he’s inherently deservant of your attention—a quality you were notably surprised to not have found in Bruce. 

You give him your faux-smile again, this time tighter but half a second longer for the sake of politeness. A rookie mistake.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, gesturing to the bar.

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say, gesturing your wine glass up.

A momentary flash of irritation crosses his face, but to his credit, he does a better job recovering from it than you would have expected. Though, that’s not really saying much. “Well, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be all alone here,”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Both of your heads snap to the side, finding a much more welcome surprise than you’d previously received. 

Your counterpart's posture straightens immediately, “Mr. Wayne,” he fawns, “What a lovely event you’ve thrown. I’m sure the Bernsteins will be appreciative.”

Bruce hums, eyes narrowed slightly. “You are…”

The man startles and rushes to finish off his sentence, “Alexander Watson, senior executive to the accounting department for the research wing of the company.”

He nods slowly, no recognition actually present in his eyes. “Ah. The research wing of the company that just blew fifteen million dollars on prototype self-operating cell phones.”

You’re trying hard to fight the smile creeping up on your face.

“What exactly is a self-operating cell phone?”

Watson’s face drops, hurrying to justify his approval of the proposal’s funding. As he rambles, Bruce’s gaze lowers to where Watson has once again placed his hand on your hip, though he’s not close enough to you for it to rest fully or naturally. You don’t know him well but you can say confidently that he doesn’t look pleased. 

He looks back up to Watson, attitude challenging. “Surely you’re not poking around where you’re unwelcome?”

Watson stutters at that, blinking and shaking his head quickly. “No, no, of course not! I was just hoping to provide the young lady with some company. That’s all.”

“And so you have.”

“I—,” about two steps behind in this conversation, Watson finally decides to retreat, “Yes, good evening, Mr. Wayne.” He bows his head and shuffles away back into the crowd.

“Mr. Wayne,” you smile knowingly, turning to him. “How are you?”

The hardness of his gaze fades quickly as he takes in your appearance, quite liking how you wear the dress you’d picked out.

“Things are looking up,” he smiles, “You look lovely.”

 “Thank you,” you glance over to where Watson has made his way to the bar, likely about to down an entire glass. “Mr., uh, Mr. Watson makes quite the impression.”

His smile turns a bit sullen, “You know last year he tried to convince the board that battery-powered battery chargers were going to be the next big thing?”

You blink, tilting your head, “Thought you didn’t know who he was.”

His eyes are fixed on the wall as he tugs the corner of his lip down, knowing he’s been caught but not really caring. “I’m sorry to have been away for so long, it seems everyone needs my attention at these things.”

“At the gala that you threw? I’d imagine so.”

He rolls past that smoothly, “You’re having a good time?”

“I am,” you say with a confirming head bob.

He regards the room with a numb expression, “You know, I think I’m getting bored with all of this.”

You smile at him, brow furrowed, “It’s only been an hour.”

He looks at you, eyes wide. “It’s only been an hour?” He’s exaggerating his surprise to make you smile, and it works.

“I think we should go,” he says lower.

You stare at him, bemused. “You still have a whole room full of guests.” 

He shrugs, “They’ll filter out on their own eventually.” 

He clocks your hesitation easily, accurately noting it to be more out of politeness than actually wanting to stay at the party. “What, you’re not ready to leave?”

You look around at all the mostly old, posh guests, disinterested small talk evident all across the room. You take a breath, “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

He smiles and leads you out a side door and through a corridor that’s significantly longer than you’d expected. 

“Do you always ditch your parties this early?” you ask, following closely.

He makes a sharp right at the next doorway, “If I can manage it.”

You look around at the high wooden ceilings and grand furniture. “Aren’t some of them friends of yours?”

He shakes his head, “My friends aren’t here.”

You frown at that, “Then why do you throw them at all?”

“Why did you show up last weekend?”

You nod slowly, understanding. “It’s your job.”

He returns the nod, adding, “Only difference is, there’s not a chance in hell you get paid enough for the work you do for Mullins.”

For the sake of maintaining your wishful facade of professionalism, you’re going to not acknowledge that incredibly accurate statement. Instead you smile politely and continue on walking. He seems to get the implication, returning it with an even brighter adornment.

“Well, money’s money,” you say wryly.

His smile fades a bit, “You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that.” 

You shrug, “A day in the life,”

He looks sullen upon hearing that, with more sympathy than you’d have expected from someone of his stature. He’s done nothing if not surprise you, though.

“Here,” he says, taking hold of the handle of a glass door. It opens to a garden, lit up beautifully by the moon and outdoor light. A fountain sits in the middle, water rhythmically gushing out of the top and trickling down the sides. The bite of the Gotham night air burns at your cheeks a bit and you find yourself thankful the dress you’d chosen is so long.

Bruce leads the way to an expensive marble bench positioned nicely in front of it, allowing you to sit first before following suit. Your hands find a place in your lap, clasped together awkwardly in an attempt to find warmth through contact.

It takes Bruce less than ten seconds to stand, remove his suit jacket, and drape it over your shoulders before sitting back down. The material is thicker and warmer than you would’ve expected, surely reminiscent of the perks of being owned by a billionaire.

He doesn’t look at you to acknowledge the grateful expression on your face, simply carrying on like it didn’t happen. “Was hoping it was warmer,” he murmurs.

Your focus momentarily goes to the icy cold stone of the bench under your thighs, initially finding it uncomfortable before deciding the coolness actually felt quite soothing. You remove your gaze from the gray stone and turn your head to find Bruce already focused on you.

You start to say something, though you’re not sure what it would’ve been, when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down.

Well, he certainly knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

His eyes stay on your lower lip as he murmurs, “You’re a pretty girl, you know that?” 

God, he’s a professional.

You look up at him and refrain from saying anything, waiting to see if he follows it up with something that will make you regret agreeing to coming out here with him.

He doesn’t.

You shift, moving your hands off your lap to rest on the stone under you. “You can’t just do this—”

He smiles and lowers his chin to look you in the eyes, “Then what can I do for you?”

“You—” you blink rapidly, “Stop it.”

His coy beam persists, “Stop what?”

You raise your gaze up to him ever so slightly, a pouty expression across your face that you’re trying to sell as serious. “You’re trying to make me nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous?” He tilts his head down further, a ghost of a smile echoing on his lips, “I don’t mean to, sweet girl.”

Your eyes drop to the ground, biting your tongue. “Yeah.”

His simper grows, “I’m serious. I’d hate to scare away a new friend.”

You laugh at that and he perks up a bit at the sound, “What? We’re not friends?”

You cock your head to the side, “You’re the one who said none of your friends are here.”

He hums, “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“You think so?” You should probably stop flirting so much. 

“Yeah,” he leans in a bit closer, “I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Maybe I want to be your friend,” his hand finds a place atop yours. 

Your eyes flicker across his face as he closes in, “What if I don’t want to be yours?”

His eyes are on your lips, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

You take a slow deep breath, “Your intentions are blurry.”

He smiles lightly, amused. “We’ll have to clear that up then, won’t we?” His lips are inches away and his voice is soft as he says, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You look up at him eyes wide, barely processing his words as you nod. He gently grasps your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up. His other hand finds the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you with intention. Your hands hover in the air for a second before holding onto his forearms. 

He breaks the kiss only to give you another sweet one right after. Your mouths remain close when it’s over, eyes still shut, trying to catch your breath. You stay like that for a moment until he kisses you once more on your cheekbone before pulling away. His hands drop to rest on your knees, the weight of them gentle.

He hums lowly, “Sweet thing..”

Being under the heaviness of his gaze leaves you feeling vulnerable. It’s starting to get you concerned with the potential levity and implications of kissing him. The expectations.

“You…” you stare down at where his hands meet your skin, not quite sure that you actually meant to start that sentence. 

“What?” he frowns, brow pinched. Your chin lowers further as your mouth forms a tight line. He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. What is it?” he asks gently.

It takes a surge of willpower for you to get the sentence out, “You just want to sleep with me..”

He frowns harder at that, pulling back a bit. “No. I’m…” he sighs, “I’m not trying to lure you in just to toss you out right after.”

That makes you look up again. His voice has a sincerity to it that you weren’t prepared for. 

He continues, “I would like to, yes. Yeah. You’re beautiful, of course I would, but..” he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you, “No, that’s not the most important thing to me.”

You break eye contact again, thinking over his words. If that’s not the most important thing to him, what is? You can’t think of what else he could possibly want from you, a billionaire who could have anything he wants..the only thing you could have to offer in his eyes is sex. 

Right?

He exhales, “If you want to leave, I’ll call you a car. No hard feelings.” He nudges your chin up gently so you’ll look at him, but he gives you the freedom to fight against it if you wanted to.

You let him move you.

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him, looking into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want,” he says it like it’s automatic. You physically can’t help but roll your eyes at the corniness of it. He doubles down, though, “Seriously. Anything.”

You smile in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Alright,” he returns your smile, straightening, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Do you need a ride home?”

You blink at him, “I’m going home?”

“You are,” he nods softly, “Do you need a ride?”

“No.”

He nods again, more like he’s working through something in his head. “Okay. You’re going to go home and think through what you want. If you decide you want to, come back here next Saturday.” he stands up, extending his hand out to you, “Then you can let me know what else you want and we can get to work on that too.”

You start to shake your head, “I can—” 

He drops his chin seriously, “Think on it.”

You relent easily, taking his hand and coming to a stand.

“Alright?” Again, his question is genuine. He does really want to know if you’re on board with this plan. 

Already going against his request, you agree without a thought, “Okay.”

He starts to lead you back over to the garden door with a head nod and a kind smile.

It ultimately was not a decision you had to think very hard on.

You’d considered every scenario of how this could play out and none of them ended with regret as far as you could guess.

You’ll still admit though, there was one scenario you had missed, apparently, which is why you were immeasurably confused when you showed up and he invited you to play chess.

He’s not wearing a fancy three piece suit this time, but his clothes are still very nice. With the sunlight peeking through the windows, you’re able to see the manor more clearly than you had been the other night. It really is a beautiful home, clearly very old and charmed, but there’s a lot of little details of character and history scattered around. There’s portraits and photographs of his parents from when he was young and furniture decorated with trinkets all throughout, kept absolutely spotless and dust free. Everything is neat and tidy but there’s still traces of the house being lived in with the patched throw pillows and worn carpets. Still, it’s very, very placid.

You’ve met new money plenty of times over the course of dealing with countless businessmen for Mr. Mullins but old money is something entirely different. You don’t really have a frame of reference here. New money is almost always brash and demanding, they like things done quickly and correctly the first time around. They’re usually not very interested in hearing what you have to say (even if it would save them a lot of trouble) and prefer it when the assistants women keep their mouths shut. Bruce has proven to be very different from these standards already and you’re not sure where to begin with placing new ones.

You’re about halfway through a second game, and while you’re not awful at chess, you get the impression that he’s easing up on you considerably.

You sit on the floor in front of a short coffee table, the game having no clear lead so far.

“I think this is stressing me,” you mumble, no actual weight behind your words.

“It’s just chess,” he says, not looking up from the board.

You watch him move his knight forward as you ask, “And that’s all we’re doing?”

“As it stands, yes,” he looks up at you, though you don’t return his gaze.

“Yeah,” you sigh, sliding your rook, “But later?”

“Later?”

“Well, you said...” you meet his eyes, “You said you wanted to sleep with me.”

He nods slowly, “I do. Is that alright?”

You consider it for a moment. You already knew that, if you really weren’t okay with it you wouldn’t have come here. And yeah, the idea makes you a little shaky, but in a good way.

“Yes,” you tell him, moving your queen forward two spaces.

“Are you sure?” he presses, moving to sit on the side of the table rather than behind it.

You do the same, sitting on your knees. “Yeah, I just..” you shift your weight, eyes wandering. “I’m not…overly experienced.”

He just smiles at that, like it’s endearing. Your words didn’t quite convey your meaning but your tone did. In any case, he understands the implication. “That’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not going to throw you in the deep end.”

You nod, looking down again.

“You’re nervous,” he comments.

“No, I’m—I mean, maybe,” your voice is barely a murmur by the end of the sentence.

He’s quiet for a moment, observing the way you fiddle with your rings. “What if we get you something pretty to wear? Something that makes you feel pretty. Whatever you want.”

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, opening and pulling out a lump of cash without even looking. He holds the money out to you wordlessly and you can see from the bill on the outside that it’s at least a couple hundred dollars.

You shake your head instantly, “I can’t take that.”

He doesn’t put the money down but his eyes turn to begging. “Please. I just want you to feel good.”

“Bruce—”

He wavers a bit at that but it’s more of a falter than you’ve seen from him before so it’s easy to take notice of. “What?”

He shrugs barely, “I like when you say my name.”

Your eye contact holds for a moment and your resolve starts to shake almost instantly.

You exhale, “I’m not taking more than a hundred.”

“Two hundred.”

“Bruce.”

He smiles and picks out some of the cash and pockets it, handing you the rest. You don’t comment on the fact that it’s a hundred and fifty more than you’d agreed on.

You look down at the money in your hand like it’s a foreign object, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what to get.”

His thumbs start to rub reassuring circles by the bend of your knees, “Anything you want,” he tells you. “What do you like? Silk, lace, cotton, anything.”

You look up, tilting your head at him with a furrowed brow. “It doesn’t matter what I like, th—”

“It only matters what you like,” He says seriously, lowering himself to meet your gaze. “I’ll love it, no matter what you pick. Don’t worry about that.”

You lean forward a bit instinctually, “Okay.”

His eyes scan across your face in something that you can only recognize as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper.

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, voice even quieter.

Your eyes go to his mouth and you can only manage a nod, lips already parted.

He moves forward not a second later, kissing you with more fire than you’d gotten to see the other night. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing lightly as you hook one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

You hear the clatter of chess pieces falling over as he moves nearer to you, large frame leaning over you. You push up on your knees, meeting his lips up at his level. His hands caress around your hips as the kiss gets deeper.

You just start to fumble with the hem of his shirt when he takes your hands in his, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he smiles, nudging you back with little force.

You groan, “Why?”

He barks out a laugh at that, stroking your hips again. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on the floor.”

“Then let's go somewhere else,” you nod up towards the stairs.

He shakes his head, that soft smile still playing on his lips. “Not tonight.”

You sit back on your heels again, frowning.

He brushes your hair back, murmuring, “No. But for now, I'll kiss you ‘til you can’t think if that’s what you want.”

You really hope you didn’t perk up at that as much as you think you did.

🌾🌽 i heard a rumor that if you like without reblogging your crops will be cursed but hey what do i know 🌾🌽

misty invasion - no restraint

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: xavier x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 5k words (jesus i even cut 1k out)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘no restraint’ (xavier’s misty invasion card), switch!xavier, slightly dark!xavier, super possessive!xav, so much pussy eating, nose stroking clit, cumming on pussy then using as lube, mating press, sensory play but not actually, thigh biting, ankle kissing, foot massage, slight finger sucking, slight dub-con somno at the end, use of y/n

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | zayne's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: sorry this is late! I’ve been dealing with some harassment but won’t get into that here. You guys have been waiting so patiently for this one and i’m so excited to finally share it with you guys. I love writing and it’s incredible to have people to share my passion with, so please enjoy xavier fuckers!

part three is our dear xavier! idk how this one got so long i cut 1k words and its still 5k LOL somehow longer than sylus’s? i haven’t written for xavier in sooo long so this was both challenging but fun! I miss him <3 I wrote xavier as more dark!xav than the soft xavier, but there’s definitely a good mix of both

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

As a Hunter, you’ve had to thoroughly train your senses to be as adept and and accurate as possible, to keep yourself, your fellow Hunters, and the citizens of Linkon safe.

Sight. The ability to track every micromovement a Wanderer made and react in milliseconds. Being able to quickly spot things that don’t belong, indicating something more sinister.

Hearing. Being able to detect even the mutest of sounds. The muffled shuffling of leaves, a slight creak in the wind that could warn you of incoming danger.

Smell. The almost imperceptible scent of different species of Wanderers, each one specific to each genus, able to provide valuable information on what to expect.

Touch. The distinct textures of your different UNICORN issued tools and weapons, the simplest grooves and ridges helping you quickly discern what is what in moments of life or death.  

What you hadn’t necessarily needed was the sense of taste, but that wouldn’t be a sense you’d need as a Hunter. Right?

In the soft glow coming from the protocore you and him had confiscated from an illegal protocore trade, Xavier sat at the foot of the bed you’d be sharing tonight. The soft orange light emanating from the protocore casts a vaguely romantic atmosphere around the two of you. It was suffocating and addicting all at once.

Perhaps it was your fault, you’d teased him, claiming the protocore in question had dulled your senses, a side effect from its unique Protocurves. A clear and obvious lie. 

But you hadn’t expected him to respond so boldly. 

To test your sense of sight, moving from his spot across the hotel room to approach the foot of the bed, sitting so closely that you could see the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, gliding along the grooves of his muscled abdomen.

To test your sense of smell, leaning in so teasingly close to you that the soft clean smell of his pheromones, akin to fresh laundry blowing in the spring breeze, invaded your very essence. 

To test your sense of hearing, whispering dangerously sultry but innocent words under his breath to taunt you, seeing if you could hear how much he wanted you. 

To test your sense of touch, reaching out to grasp your face into his fingers, warm from the hot shower he’d taken. So daringly caressing your warm cheek in his palm, with a heated desire that you knew could consume you whole. 

It was truly all enough to drive you utterly insane, at the point of no return, nearly jumping him right then and there.

Perhaps Xavier could see that, deciding to give you a temporary reprieve from all the “sensory tests” to complete a test of his own 

His voice is a faint murmur, “Before the rain stops, is there anything you want to do?” His words sound less like a question and more like a plea. Bordering on a demand. 

At his words, your eyes trail to the body lotion you’d set on the nightstand next to the Protocore. You’d just been about to apply it before Xavier had come out of the shower. You bite your lip at the thought of his strong hands rubbing the expensive cream into your aching muscles. Xavier’s eyes follow yours, and he smiles gently, standing up to grab it from the side table. 

He unscrews it, the soft scent of strawberries wafting in the space between you. Under the soft glow of the Protocore, Xavier’s face is flushed, his breath unusually heavy. His eyes are focussed on the body lotion, but you can just barely see the stormy heat behind them. 

“What, are we testing your senses now?” you tease him, sitting up with your hands hugging your knees. 

Xavier sits back down on the bed, the mattress dipping at your feet. Your toes brush against the soft silk of his bathrobe, the knot even looser now, leaving far too little to imagination. His voice is gentle, but urgent, “The Protocore’s Protocurves can…dull a person's senses.” 

He places his palm gently on the underside of your thighs, pulling your bare calves toward him. His touch is impossibly soft, yet strangely enough it leaves your skin burning. You let your body be guided towards him until his chest is practically pressed against your knee. With your bare calf in his hands, it makes it difficult to think. But you do your best to speak, “So…are you affected by it too?”

As Xavier smears the lotion across your flushed skin, he murmurs, “Maybe.” He takes another scoop of the cream into his fingers.

“It’s possible…I won’t be able to feel you anymore from now on.” His eyes are trained on your leg as he speaks, fingers wandering from your knee to your exposed thigh. Though you both know his senses were, and would be, perfectly fine, the longing in both his low voice and dark eyes felt completely real.

As his hands rub into your skin, his fingers briefly find their way under your nightdress. He leans down, resting his chin on your knee. He practically hugs your legs to his chest, the opened jar of lotion still in hand. WIth his curious fingers on your thigh, under the lace hem of your nightdress, you try and distract him from your flushed face. You take a small dollop of the lotion in his hands, teasingly brushing it to his nose.

“What’s the fragrance? Can you smell it?” Xavier’s face on your bare knee doesn’t move, but his eyes flit up to yours, dark and amused. 

He has a barely perceptible smirk, fingers stroking small shapes into the area where your lace nightie meets the skin of your exposed thighs, “Strawberry.” He sounds uncharacteristically self-assured, his chin moving down so that he can smell your skin. 

You shiver as you feel the cool inhale of his nose against your knee. His lips ghost along your leg as he breathes in the scent, lingering for so long you’re nearly quivering against his hold. His hand grips your thigh possessively as he murmurs, “Or maybe...that scent…is cherry.” The way he buries his face into your legs, inhaling so deeply, is nearly enough to have you passing out.

He comes back to nuzzle his chin into your knee, glancing up at you in an expression that is eerily dark and soft all at once, “Was I right?” His words are gentle but there’s an exhilarating taunt underneath them. It only makes you want to taunt him back.

You reach for his ear, noticing it’s unusually peachy pink, stroking along the soft lobe, “Here’s another test. What do you think my hand is doing right now?” Xavier’s eyes close at your touch, his breath heavy and hot against your thigh. His brows furrow, and if it weren’t for the way he leaned into your touch for more, you’d almost think he was in pain. 

As his eyes flicker open to meet yours, you take his cheek into your hands. There’s a vague haziness in them, almost like he’s having a hard time keeping them open, drunk off even your slightest touches. He sits up, leaning into your hand.

“You need to do it harder,” he urges, desperation making itself known in his sultry voice. Your hand trails down his ear, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw and making its way to Xavier’s bobbing neck. 

Your fingers move intentionally, trailing down to his collar until they rest on his chest, “What about now?” 

Though his chest heaves, his blue eyes smolder with an unbridled confidence, “...Too gentle.” He looks at you with an unspoken plea in his eyes, begging you to touch him more. Harder.

You let your shaking fingers toy torturously with the reddened skin on his sharp collarbone, swirling your fingertips on his pounding chest. You bite your lip, enjoying the way his breath comes out in needy pants, the look of desperation on his parted lips growing stronger by the second, “If you still haven’t felt it…”

Xavier continues your thought, cerulean eyes filled with a desperate longing, “If I haven’t felt it…” You gasp as he grabs your wrist forcefully, bringing it back up to his face.

His grip is commanding, caressing your palm with his soft cheek, his breath fanning the inside of your hand. His movements are almost imperceptible, until you feel his lips closing over your middle finger. You’re unable to stop the shiver as his tongue grazes against your trembling finger, his lips caressing your skin in his mouth.

Xavier desperately hopes you keep your eyes trained on his, and not the embarrassingly prominent tent under his thin robe, throbbing for your attention. His breath is hot as he pants against your finger, “...does this mean I’m a lost cause?”

You pull your hand away, unable to withstand the effect his lips enclosing in your fingers is having on your body, your thighs clenching together under your own robe and nightgown. 

“What should we do?” you murmur before softly clutching his shoulder, pulling him closer until you can whisper into his ear for a little hearing test. You let your lips graze his reddened earlobe, before whispering.

“Xavier.”

It comes out far more sultry and seductive than you’d originally intended, betraying your body’s true desires. Xavier apparently shares those same desires, because as he hears you gasp out his name his body has a visceral reaction. 

His heart pounds so rapidly he’s almost sure you’d be able to hear it, his muscled chest rising and falling in an irregular rhythm. His face looks almost anguished, fighting an internal war against himself. He glances towards you, his eyes dark with unbridled desire. 

“Oops. Looks like something broke,” you grin cheekily, thoroughly amused by his reaction, fueled with confidence. 

Xavier’s eyes are so dark they’re nearly black as they drink in the sight of your beautiful smile, as you sit with your knees up on the mattress. The next thing you know, Xavier’s is pushing you down, your back hitting the plush mattress and your robe fluttering open to reveal your flimsy nightdress. 

Xavier stands above you, before his hand comes down to grip the mattress beside your head, pinning you down. His eyes trail up your body, savoring every exposed centimeter of soft skin, before boring into your beautiful eyes. His body is pressed gently into yours, and you can very much make out just how excited he’s become. The area between your thighs moistens at the feeling of his arousal pressed into your stomach. 

“Your sensory test isn’t over yet,” he grunts, his face tortuously close to yours. His eyes are hooded dangerously, an imminent threat reflected in his ocean blue eyes. He leans forward, so close his torrid breath fans against your parted lips.

“Let’s do a taste test,” he murmurs, eyes shutting as he finally closes the distance between your lips in a toe-curling passionate embrace. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, which you happily part to give him access. He moans into you as he indulges in how delicious you taste, quickly addicted to your soft and warm tongue against his. 

When he finally pulls away, he’s a complete and utter mess. His breath is uneasy and rapid, his body contorting with the rhythm of his pounding chest. His fingers have found their way into yours, effectively pinning you securely against the bed under his hard body. 

“Xavier…” you gasp, squeezing his fingers, “Even someone like you can lose your composure, huh?”

As your bodies heave together, Xavier takes thick and deep lungfuls of your scent, his face buried into your neck.

“One doesn’t need that much composure,” he groans before diving back into the crook of your neck, lips latching onto your pulse. 

As he holds you, gently suckling at your neck, you prod him, “What are you thinking of?”

Xavier hesitates, his lips hovering centimeters above your skin, before murmuring, “Something…indecent.”

You bite back your grin, thoroughly enjoying how needy he’s becoming. With his body still atop of yours, you bring your lips to his ear letting your wet lips stroke against his earlobe. 

“Xavier…” you purr, “Tell me what you’re thinking of.”

You can see Xavier’s neck throb with a thick gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. It’s then he decides he’s done playing games. 

He sits up eerily calmly, until he’s on his knees at your feet. His fingers trail down your bare thighs, to your calves, and to your feet. You squirm at his fleeting trail of touches, squeaky moans of anticipation slipping from your lips.

As his hands slide down your legs, he lifts your foot into his hands, fingers kneading your aching sole. You moan, your eyes squeezing shut at just how wonderfully Xavier knows your body, knows how to touch you. 

You’re so caught up in the feeling of his hands on your ankles that you don’t notice the way he cups your calf, raising your leg into the air as he caresses it. It’s not until the distinct feeling of his warm lips meet the bottom of your calf do your eyes screw open.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you, Xavier placing a feathery trail of kisses down your calf all the way to your foot. As he tenderly kisses your ankle, his eyes open to watch you with a hungry gaze. 

“The Protocore’s effects…I think we need a stronger test,” he mutters, his mouth rubbing against your ankle still. He sets your leg on his shoulder, gently spreading your thighs apart. 

You blush as your legs part, leaving little to imagination as Xavier situates himself between your legs, one propped on his muscled shoulder and one hooked above his forearm, “Xavier?”

He doesn’t respond, eyes trained on the glistening patch of dampness that adorns your panties. It takes all of him not to drool right over your half naked form right then and there. As his head lowers to kiss your thighs, you tremble at his proximity to your throbbing cunt that leaks with desire and arousal.

“I-Is this…strong enough?” you squeak, his tongue lapping slow circles around the areas his teeth graze. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he indulges in the taste of your legs, eyeing the beautiful way your panties are creasing against the lips of your pussy. He can practically feel the heat coming off you and it makes him bite hard. 

You squeal, your back arching up and fingers reaching down to pull at his soft hair. It’s impossible not to enjoy the sharp graze of his canines and the contrastingly adoring caress of his tongue. Too distracted by the pleasure, you don’t feel the embarrassing slick dripping down your thighs.

But Xavier does.

He detaches his lips from your thighs, briefly admiring the handful of flowering red bruises littered against both your plush legs. 

“It’s…stronger. But this…” he trails off, and that’s when you feel his fingers hooking your soaked panties to the side. You yelp as his fingers languidly swipe at your folds, coating himself in your arousal and bringing it up to his mouth. 

You watch in a mixture of embarrassment and desire as he slips his fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around his digits and eyes shut in utter bliss. 

When his blonde lashes finally flutter open, his hazy pupils are dilated amongst the sea of azure, piercing into your own.

“This, I can taste,” he grins gently at you. It’s so effortlessly Xavier, yet something sinister lurks beneath his soft smile. Something that makes you shake to your very core.

You don’t have time to ponder the darkness behind his smile, because Xavier is gripping you by your hips, bringing the apex of your thighs to his waiting mouth, salivating at the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt. His eyes flit from your core to your eyes, your upper body propped up on your elbows as you watch his heated gaze devour you. 

“Please…” Xavier rasps, his voice guttural and desperate. The proximity of his face to your weeping cunt lets you feel his hot breath fan against your quivering pussy, “Please let me.”

You’re speechless, so you nod fervently, gripping his soft hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Xavier wastes no time, burying himself into you. You gasp, spine curling at the force of his demanding lips against your cunt.

You’d think Xavier had been starved for days, the way he latches onto your lips, his tongue eagerly lapping at your slit, savoring every drop of your sweet essence. You thrash at the unrelenting pleasure, as Xavier’s bruising grip holds you in place. 

“Let me enjoy you, please,” he groans, nose rubbing into your clit deliciously, “Who knows if I’ll ever be able to taste you again?”

You whimper at his filthy words, trying to stay still as he ravishes you with his skilled tongue. The lewd slurps and moans that come from him are enough to drive you to the edge of insanity, unable to contain your furious writhing. Xavier only digs his fingers harder into the plush of your thighs, doing his best to keep you in place.

Xavier moans into you, the vibrations of his pleasured sounds thrumming straight into your body. He doesn’t let a single droplet of your nectar go to waste, his tongue lapping diligently. There’s absolutely no shortage of it, as his pointed nose brushes against your clit, his tongue stroking sweetly into your lips. 

“You taste like heaven, Y/N,” Xavier moans into your folds. The vibrations of his filthy words send you reeling and you can barely hear him, only able to respond in the whiniest moans, too wrapped up in the pleasure his mouth so skillfully brings you. 

“Xavier!” you cry, toes digging into the ropes of muscles on his back.

You can vaguely feel one of Xavier’s hands abandon your thigh, moving to free his cock from under his loose robe. You can’t see much, but you can see the way his forearm jerks up and down, the veins in his arms bulging as he pleasures himself, fueled by the taste of you. 

“O-oh f-fuck!” you cry, your back arched, the soles of your feet pressing into Xavier’s back, “Xavier…p-please don’t – nngh – stop!”

Through your widely spread legs, you can see just how aroused Xavier is by your pleas. His fingers can barely wrap around his thick girth. They move up and down effortlessly, coated in his copious pre-cum. It honestly looked like he already came with just how much of his slick was smeared on himself. He’s so impossibly angry and red as he thrusts into his own fist, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips at the sight. 

You’re only snapped out of your mesmerized staring when his lips latch onto your clit, tongue lapping eagerly against the throbbing nub of nerves. His lips suckling at your clit, tongue stroking so sweetly, is just enough to have you coming completely undone all over Xavier’s face. 

You try to pull always as you feel the warm gush coming, but Xavier only holds you down harder with his arm wrapped around your thigh, his hands jerking up and down his leaking erection even more desperation. With nowhere to run, your body thrashes erratically in his forceful arm. Your back arches into the air, your head digging into the plush mattress, as you squirt over Xavier’s insistent tongue. 

You’re well into the depths of overstimulation, feebly pushing his head away, whispering brokenly, “X-Xavier. S’too much, please.”

But he can’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in your taste, in you. Your body curls in a stinging pleasure as he continues to devour you, positively starved. 

The lewd slurps of his face in your wet thighs, your unabashed moans and cries of ecstasy, the taste of your release against his greedy tongue, and his forceful grip on his cock drive him to his own orgasm. 

He forces himself to pull away, his lips wet with your slick, your body collapsing but still slightly elevated with your calf thrown over his shoulder. With his position kneeling at your feet, your right leg still by his neck, his cock spurts right onto your quivering and overstimulated pussy. 

“H-holy,” Xavier groans breathlessly, hands still jerking himself up and down as rope after rope lands on your glistening cunt. His spend is so deliciously hot against your sensitive skin that you can’t stop the full body tremors that wrack your body. His copious streams of cum start to drip off your quivering cunt, pooling on the mattress beneath you.

Xavier leans forward, clutching your thigh as his body heaves with an overwhelming  satisfaction. His fingers dig into your already bruised thighs, his breath heavy and desperate. 

You want to giggle at his ruined state, stroking his back teasingly with your toes, your calf still resting on his shoulder. Your fingers reach for his ear to caress his cheek and tease him with your words from earlier, “So little composure. Adorable”

Xavier’s gaze, longing and soft, twitches. Before you know it, your back is flat against the bed once more, both your legs pressed against your chest. Your feet hang in the air above your head, Xavier’s heaving body pressed on top of you, something hard and wet pressing into your still trembling core.

Out of sheer surprise, you cry out, “X-Xavier?” Your hands instinctively come up to cup his face.

Xavier doesn’t speak, his eyes trained on your cunt as he runs his tip up and down your folds. When he finally looks up at you, there’s a dark almost feral look in the storm of his cerulean eyes. A look of unbridled animalistic heat. 

He bends down, his beautiful face dangerously close to yours as he smirks, “Isn’t this what you wanted, angel?” 

You shiver at his unusually edged words, eyes widening as you nod gently. Unable to deny the truth of his words. You knew it, and he knew it. You absolutely always wanted him, especially when he was this unhinged. 

Xavier smiles, it’s deceptively gentle as you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes, “I know, Y/N. So, please. Let me give it to you.” Though he begs, you can tell he’s not really asking. Not that you minded. You’d give him absolutely everything. 

So you nod, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Xavier smiles, finger stroking your cheek. With his other hand, he takes his cock, rubbing his cockhead into your sopping folds, smearing his cum messily around. He’d spurt so much milky seed onto your pussy that it quite literally felt like a bottle of lube had been squirted onto you. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. For a brief second, the bright light returns to Xavier’s eyes as he adoringly watches you, with so much affection in his azure eyes. It’s gone just as quickly as it comes, his cock splitting you apart as he thrusts into you. 

You cry out, unable to do anything but take him, your legs caged against both your bodies. The mating press he has you in is so mean, his hard strong body so imposing as he thrusts into you. It’s so easy for him to slide inside you, his cum on your skin even slicker than lube. 

Xavier’s breathy moans wash over you at every single mean thrust, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours as he ruts into you like a madman. A man positively starved. And only one thing could satisfy him. 

His hands press into the mattress beside your head, his entire body boxing you in, with only your thighs separating you. You wish he could hold you closer, press deeper into you, as deep as his cock was currently in your throbbing pussy. 

“X-Xav…” your squeal. The position he has you in gives him easy access to your most sensitive spots. Xavier only moans in response, not typically a man of many words when it comes to being buried in your guts. 

Which is why you’re surprised when he grits out, “Mine.”

You’re so surprised, mind so clouded with his massive girthy cock, that you gasp out, “W-What?”

Xavier’s smirk is faint, almost imperceptible, “You’re mine. I would never leave you.”

His pointed thrusts make you cry out in pleasure, losing your train of thought again. His smile grows more confident at your inability to speak, “Isn’t that what you told James? That your partner left you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, before realizing he's talking about the man you’d been flirting with for information at the protocore trade, “J-James? You – hnngh – y-you mean Henrik’s idiot – nngh – bodyguard?” 

Xavier drives into you with an even more mind-numbing intensity at the mention of another man. You can see his jaw twitches, his eyes swimming with shadowy emotions.

“What do you think he took you up to the sixth floor for?” he growls, uncharacteristically and darkly gruff, “For this?” 

To punctuate his point he slams his pelvis into your ass, the lewd pap sound of wet skin against wet skin deafeningly loud. 

“It’s too bad for him. You’re mine.” His words are a sweet threat, with no violence and all the passion in the world behind them.

The raw possession in his voice makes you approach your orgasm far too quickly. Your thighs shake uncontrollably at the strain, but even more so at the pleasure Xavier drives into your gummy walls. His cock is so thick that your body burns with pleasure as he stretches you to your limit, your walls sucking him tightly, unwilling to let go. 

Xavier moans at the unbelievably incredible feeling of your walls tightening against him, trying to wring him into you. Xavier’s thrusts become more erratic as he comes closer to his own release, and you’re desperate to cum with him, your orgasm impossibly iminent. 

You know just how to send him over the edge, as you take his jaw into your fingers, his chest pressed into the fat of your thighs as he folds you quite literally in half. Xavier looks surprised but lets his face be guided to yours, his eyes still holding glimmers of shadows held back by a thin shred of restraint. 

“Xavier,” you whisper, trying to keep your orgasm at bay so you can experience simultaneously with the blonde haired man deliciously rearranging your guts, “I’m yours, always.” 

Xavier’s eyes darken, his eyebrows furrowing, as his body responds to your sweet words. His thrusts are harder, rougher, and all the more forceful and demanding. He’s utterly desperate to feel you cum atop his cock, his beautiful girl. Entirely and completely his. 

“Yeah? Then cum for me, please.” His voice is a guttural growl, matching the animalistic intensity of his body pounding into yours. But he stutters just a bit, as you can practically feel the veins in his thick cock throbbing against your pulsing walls.

With Xavier’s intense eyes on yours, your body folded mind numbingly against his hard chiseled body, his filthy possessive words fanning across your lips, it’s impossible to keep your orgasm back any longer. 

You cum with a strangled cry of his name, your elbows bending so your fingers can furiously claw at the sheets by your head. Xavier moans out at how tightly your cunt grips him amidst your climax, absolutely forcing the orgasm out of him. 

You’re a moaning whining mess as Xavier fucks his seed into you. Even after his first orgasm, there’s so much cum, both inside and outside. The area where your bodies are joined is a sticky mess of cum and saliva.

Xavier is no better, the grunts and babbles streaming from his own mouth an absolute symphony to your ears.

“That’s it, love,” he rasps, “So good for me. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

You stroke Xavier’s soft blonde hair as his thrusts slow to an eventual stop. His softening cock is still in you, and you wince as you can vaguely feel it slipping out. Your hips scream in discomfort, your thighs still pressed firmly into your chest as Xavier gasps for air above you. 

You whimper as he shifts, and instantly Xavier is back to his usual soft self, fawning over you, “Are you okay?” It’s honestly insane how quickly he switches, because as his blue eyes search yours, you notice the darkness is gone. All that’s left is that starry glimmering sea of ultramarine, soft, concerned, and loving.

“H-heavy,” you whine, tapping at his thick shoulders. Xavier’s off of you in a flash, his soft cock slipping out as sits on his knees before you. He hovers over you, careful not to put any weight on you, as he brushes your tangled hair off  of your sweaty forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your flushed cheek, “Was I…Did I take it too far?”

“No, never,” you mumble happily, draping your arms over his neck. Through his gentle smile that could move the stars, you can see how exhausted Xavier is, but he continues to stroke circles into your skin. His hands reach down to massage your bruised thighs, hickeys littering every inch of you. The serene intimacy of the moment is enough to lull you towards sleep, despite the mess between your legs. 

–

You must’ve nodded off for a few minutes, because when you open your bleary eyes you see Xavier between your legs, carefully wiping the sticky mess away. 

“Xav, s’okay,” you whisper sleepily, stirring in his careful hands and barely able to string together complete sentences, “Clean tomorrow, sleep now.”

“It’s okay, angel,” he murmurs, his voice so warm and dreamy. He holds you gently in place as he continues to wipe you off, “Go back to sleep.”

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands soothing your aching muscles, losing the fight against sleep, “You don’t feel tired?” 

Xavier chuckles, the sound meeting your ears even in your half-conscious state, “I can still feel. But I think I may need another…taste test.”

You can hear the mischief in his voice even if you’re too exhausted to open your eyes.

“Just sleep honey, let me take care of you.”

Something about the playful heat in his voice makes you doubt he’s just going to be cleaning you up with the warm towel he had in his hands. And the thought of that excites you beyond belief, even as you succumb to sleep. 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites

.ᐟ✦ please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

I couldn’t relate to a photo more than to this one ever!😂😅

OH MY GOD????

"Don't tell me that's what you think I won't be able to endure?"

he makes up for in daring

watching Deadpool and Wolverine isn't enough I need to fuck both of them at the same time

ugh, the possessiveness, i fucking love it. 😭

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ⌞ 𝑴𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝑾𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼 ⌝

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Illusio with XAVIER dressed in [Butler's Rules] + bonus Ring [Oath of Starry Twilight] ⊹₊ ⋆

HAVE A REQUEST?

Want to see your love interest of choice wear a specific outfit in a kindled memory, but don’t have them in your collection? Unfortunately, I’m no longer taking ILLUSIO REQUESTS as the event ended.

MY. MAN.

HUGH JACKMAN as Logan in X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)

i need me a man like this

SYLUS who has loved you endlessly and forever. who never falters even in the face of death, as the only thing that ever stuck as his ultimate priority was ensuring your safety. who initially teases you about the mundane things you find joy in, only to memorize each and every detail. who quite literally puts everything on the line that dares to threaten your life or serve as an obstacle for your happiness. SYLUS—who has sworn to himself to give you the world at all costs—if it meant the cosmos had to burn, if it meant that gods would have to be betrayed and killed.

so these are our only two options? we’re cooked

ೃ࿔ TABOO CRUSH ☾

SYNOPSIS: you’re megumi’s best friend first, but you can’t help also being his dad’s biggest mma fan

PAIRING — mma!toji fushiguro x uni!reader

CONTENT — MDNI, angst, NSFW, filthy, age gap, nsfw, thigh riding, pet names, MAJOR spit kink, virginity loss, corruption kink, spanking, cheating, daddy kink, pussy slapping, cunninglingus, creampie, unprotected, dacriphilia,

A/N — end of fic for informational + donation links 🍉

you were just a girl. and being a girl you obviously fangirled over silly things.

it varied really. you fangirled over one piece, aot, video game characters, film characters, peaky blinders, game of thrones, k-dramas, and of course sports. you had silly crushes on soccer players, but the one athlete who truly dominated your heart was the best mma fighter of all time and that was none other than, Toji Fushiguro.

“megumiiii!” you run over to the boy, throwing yourself on his back making him stumble, just as yuuji came, also jumping on megumi.

nobara was running as well with her shopping bags and boba before gasping for air by the time she reached the doorstep of the fushiguro household.

“we missed you!” yuuji whines. the three of you decided to pay megumi a visit after his weeklong absence due to his cold.

“get off me.” he grunts.

“it’s okay! we don’t care that you’re sick!” you dramatically cry out, yuuji crying as well as you kiss megumi’s cheek—

“It’s not because I’m sick, but because you idiots are heavy!” megumi shoves you and yuuji as he stumbles back. his vein was throbbing on his forehead, only making the three of you bark with laughter.

“y/n, and I will cook for you!” nobara was already shoving her way inside as you trailed after. taking over the fushiguro kitchen as yuuji dragged megumi back inside, crashing in the living room. everyone making themselves at home, as if they’ve lived here for years. megumi didn’t say anything. only commenting about not burning their hands again, because the truth is megumi missed them too.

snuggling into the blanket, yuuji played the new game megumi had bought. nobara had maki on speaker as she tried to give instructions on the new curry recipe. while you lounged on the counter scrolling through your phone—

“smells good.” the deep voice sent shivers down your spine. you glanced up to see the man you fantasized about, before even meeting megumi. you’d known megumi since your first year at university. but it wasn’t until you made a joke about how him and the mma fighter have the same last name did everything click.

“ya, he’s my dad.” your fate was sealed. you could never ever ever have sex with your idol, because he was your best friends dad.

how the heavens have cursed you.

but that didn’t stop you from always trailing behind the man. smiling brightly, rambling about your classes, telling him about how the professor hates you but loves megumi. you’re happy he never noticed the way your cheeks would sting every time you’d speak to him, or when he’d look at you, or when he’d pat your head, or when he’d-

“nobara is about to burn it though,” you mutter, behind your hand, toji looking over at nobara who’s sweating bullets as she tries to figure out how long she should be cooking this.

“so you’re not doing anything?” he muses, your lips part.

“I was! she just doesn’t need help right now,” you retort, sitting up, but toji’s hand lands on your head, beckoning you to follow him. “I need help moving some things.” a furious heat rushed up your body, the feeling of being needed by him sent you spiraling.

“oh okay!” you immediately perk, bouncing off the seat as you follow toji. his lips turning when he sees you trailing so quickly behind him like a cute puppy.

“why’re you throwing this stuff?” you frown seeing the boxes stacked in the basement.

“not throwing it, I’m moving it to the gym.”

“oh, good,” you smile, bending down to lift the boxes—

“woah, sweetheart.” your skin burns as toji pressed a hand to your waist. “I just need your help holding the door and opening the trunk.”

his chuckle made your cheeks warm. “I’ll still help!” you turn back around, but toji stops you with a sigh.

“fine, grab these,” he hands you a single framed picture, and nudges forward to get the door. you were ready to complain before you noticed the photo in your hands. “door.”

“sir, this is like the best photo ever! this is the original one right!?” you suddenly gush holding the door open. toji hums, carrying three stacked boxes as he walks out of the basement, heading out to the driveway.

“this was when you beat Kenjaku in a knockout and finally won your first title!” your eyes were fixated on the photo as you rambled on and on about how you’ve never seen the real thing, and how you remember your dad flipping a table out of how excited he was.

toji sat the boxes on the ground, turning to look at you.

“how long have you been a fan?” he was curious. i mean he trains yuuji after he opened his gym, ready to retire in a year, but the rest of megumi’s friends were never as interested in him as you were.

“since this fight,” you beam, finally looking up. your heart thumps at the look he’s giving you. “you’re just cool,” you mutter in embarrassment, cheeks flushed beyond measure. you lean into the trunk, sliding the framed photo carefully. your sweater riding up as you stretch your arms…

tojis eyes trail down to the bare skin, his pupils dilating at the sight.

“what’s this?”

his thumb suddenly caresses the skin of your hip making you jump. turning sharply, toji looks at the mark that peaks out of your pants.

“oh, i got a tattoo,” you lean against the trunk, lifting your shirt a bit. the tattoo was an olive branch that started from just outside your hip, and with your finger you motioned over your pants where it ended, the inside of your thigh.

“I didn’t know you liked tattoos,” he mutters, still brushing the top of the tattoo. your ears were burning, his hands were so big, you liked how rough his thumb was against your soft skin.

“don’t tell anyone,” you lower your voice, motioning toji to glance up at you as you talk behind your hand, as if someone were actually here. it was endearing. “but kyo was afraid of getting one himself, so he begged me to get one with him.” he clenched his jaw.

kyo…the low-life scum that megumi always had the pleasure of telling him about, mainly about how he was dirt compared to you. how you deserve better. how nobara hates him to death. and yet you’ve now been dating for almost two full semesters.

toji’s voice dropped. “so he forced you?”

“no!” you shook your head, almost breaking into a laugh. “as if anyone can force me to do anything.” you wave off the older man, still laughing as you head back to the basement.

toji hadn’t noticed how warm his cheeks were until you walked way. swearing under his breath he picked up the boxes shoving them in the truck. what was it about you?!

“yuuji you keep dropping your shoulder after you kick!” you whine, leaning over the ring as you watch yuuji spar toji.

“I’m not!”

“you are!”

“am not!” yuuji receives a blow to his dropped shoulder, toji finally hitting it on the nail that yes, you were right.

“told you,” you mutter, yuuji huffs, glaring over his shoulder at you.

“stop picking on him, y/n.” toji unwraps his gloves, noticing the way your eyes avert.

“how about you spar him, since you’re so good,” yuuji spits, his cheeks flushed and slightly out of breath.

“no, we have to go. we’ve been here long enough,” kyo groans from his position on the bench. he came to pick you up, but you told him to wait, wanting to see how much yuuji has improved. it was also the second time toji has met him. the moment kyo stepped into the gym, he was on his phone, only leaning down for you to peck his cheek before you came rushing back to the ring. arrogant prick, thought toji.

“five more minutes,” you reply, pulling your sweater off as you rush into the ring. you bounce up to toji grabbing yuuji’s gloves who almost laughs at kyo’s irritated expression.

“you ever spar before?” toji helps you put the gloves on. your lips part—

“she has!” yuuji interrupts, before you can lie.

“just a little martial arts,” you frown at yuuji, who grins even wider.

“nah, she’s like a black belt in Jujutsu—“

“taekwondo,” you correct with a spit.

“either way, don’t hold back on her!” yuuji cackles, sticking his tongue out as you move to lunge at him, but toji wraps an arm around your waist pulling you back to him. he notices kyo glance with a raised brow, his hand was splayed on your stomach, gently calming you. your cheeks flush, as you hum. toji pulls away, side-eyeing kyo briefly, turning his attention back to you.

“okay okay, let’s see what you got,” toji fixes the helmet on your head, before stepping back. you pound your fists together eyes glinting as toji immediately sees what you’re trying to do. he does his signature start, pounding his fists twice, creating a booming clap with each one.

“okay,” you smile, getting into your start. your hands are up by your face, blocking off your body as you stand to the side instead of squared off in the middle.

“FIGHT!” yuuji shouts, you immediately shift inside, throwing your leg up to catch the top of his helmet.

“whew!” toji brushes the kick off with a whistle, a grin spreading across his lips. “not bad.” he fixes his hands up. “keep going, sweetheart.”

you’re smiling too bright. cheeks flaming as you rush in for another kick. you completely lost track of time as you sparred the renowned fighter. he easily blocked or dodged your kicks, his fists were light taps as he got you a couple times. nothing compared to the harder blows he gave yuuji. he obviously held back, but he still entertained the living hell out of you. fueling your blood as you went harder, and with a little luck, and toji getting distracted by the sweat trickling down your full bouncing chest, you landed kick to his stomach.

“oh shit.” you mutter.

“oh shit!” yuuji repeats stunned. megumi and nobara sit up noticing the sudden silence.

“ohhhhhhhhhh fuck yeahhh!” you scream, jumping up and down as you toss the helmet off and yuuji joins you as you celebrate the tiny victory that felt like the most incredible win in the world!

toji is cackling, rolling his eyes as he takes his gear off. megumi quirks a curious brow when he notices the way toji’s looking at you.

“settle down,” he pats your head. his expressions shifts once you glance up at him, your pretty lips all wet as you heaved, sweat rolling down the tops of your smooth tits. his green eyes glance away, clearing his throat, a sting spreading across his face. “next time you can spar yuuji.”

your face brightens as you turn to your friend. nobara was already leaning into the ring as she started laughing, recording her entire bit. “y/n will definitely beat your ass!!”

“as if!” the three of you start arguing, until after a moment you look up.

“where’d kyo go?” the bench was empty, your bag laying there by itself.

“left awhile ago,” megumi answers. toji glances over, noticing the way your cute brows pinched together, clearly upset.

“cmere, lemme give you some pointers,” toji calls you over. your feet carrying you easily. the three friends huddle around as they do their work. nobara occasionally glancing up to see you sitting on the mat as toji casually sat in front of you.

“y/n is the only person that can get mr. fushiguro talking.” Yuuji looks up after nobara’s comment. humming in agreement.

“ya he said the funniest joke ever when y/n asked for one yesterday. Damn what was the joke again?” yuuji taps his chin thinking as megumi looks over, his father seemed deep in conversation. it wasn’t like you were rambling, no. you were listening attentively. engaging with small encouraging nods as toji spoke. your lips would part as you gave the most animated reactions, clearly enjoying his company on a different level.

interesting.

toji had weaknesses. the first being money. if his manager and megumi weren’t handling it then his bank accounts would be empty in a flash. his second weakness was definitely a need to eavesdrop, especially when you were over.

“no, i told him no,” your words were quiet. you and nobara sat in the living room while yuuji and megumi went to pick up some snacks from the store.

“thought you said you were ready?” she questioned.

“i am, but like…he’s like…” your voice trails off, burying your face into the cushion.

nobara groans with you, hitting the top of your head with light slaps. “you’re so confusing. if you don’t wanna have sex with him just break it off. he’s a dick anyways.”

“you don’t understand.” you whine. “i wanna do it, im ready, but whenever he starts—“ a glass crashes to the floor. startling the two girls as they glance to see toji picking up the broken cup.

“mr.fushiguro what are your thoughts on kyo?” nobara suddenly belts. your head snaps to her, eyes wide. what kind of question?!

“he’s arrogant,” toji cleans the spilled beer. “a prick, and doesn’t respect anyone other than himself—“

“how would you know?” you cut him off. toji looks up.

“cmon he’s just saying what everyone else has been. you said it yourself,” nobara is desperate. she wants you to finally acknowledge how fucking crappy your boyfriend is, if you can even call him that.

“ive only ever heard shit things about him. and you don’t deserve that. that’s all I’m gonna say,” toji excuses himself. he was pissed. pissed about how upset you got when he made a comment. you never spoke that way to him. nor did you cut him off and vise versa…

however later that night, he hears a small creak on the steps. looking over his shoulder he see you coming up the steps into his second living space on the estate. he was watching his own movie with a beer resting on his side.

“don’t you have a fight?” you mutter, coming over to the man. “you shouldn’t be drinking that.” the light from the screen shines against your exposed skin as you walk in front of the man, taking a sit beside him on the couch. you’ve done this a couple times. usually when everyone has fallen asleep and you’re still wide awake, you’ll lounge with toji watching his shows until you also knocked out. but this time felt different. you sat closer. your head was bowed to your chest as you fiddled with the ends of your boy shorts.

“i treat myself to one every couple weeks,” he answers, taking another sip, his eyes locked on the tv. “they all asleep?” you hum.

toji enjoyed silence. especially at night. but this silence was somehow eating at him. he was aware of your little glances, the way you suddenly shift and move. he needed you to talk—

“next time, don’t say anything about kyo…” you mutter, it was so soft, he could barely hear it. but he did. and it irked him.

“so I shouldn’t say the truth?”

your eyes glare up at him, a scowl forming on your lips. “no you shouldn’t.” you snap. “it’s none of your business.”

“you were in my house. so that makes it my business.” toji meets your glare. his jaw looked sharper against the flickering lights, his collarbones peaked from his white t-shirt, his hair tousled over his eyes accentuating how fucking attractive he is.

“well…that’s not fair,” your legs come up, burying your face in it. your heart was beating so fast, your body heating up. you just wanted to be close to him. you couldn’t cross that line, you couldn’t! but toji’s hand slide up and down your back.

“okay…I’m sorry.”

his words sent a certain warmth spreading deep into your core. you didn’t answer, but toji still pulled you into his side as he stroked your hair, letting you rest your head on his chest. he heard your sniffles, but was silent. but then your small hand started playing with the one on his lap.

his felt his heart jump.

you pressed his hand against your damp cheek, leaning into it.

“what is it?” his voice was so soft, like honey as he gently turned your face up. your lips were open as you stare up at the beautiful man. eyes glossed over. “stop crying.” he sighs, making more tears slip down your adorable cheeks. “awe sweetheart.”

toji leans down, holding your face, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. you should be satisfied with that! but you wanted another one, your eyes were dilated and filled with unshed tears as you hummed so quietly that only toji could hear. he understands you, understands the way your eyes linger.

“don’t cry,” he kisses your temple, then your eyes, feeling the salty tears coat his lips. your chest was filled with water as you let out small quiet sniffs, fists clenching his shirt, still begging for more. “babygirl,” he sighs, his face lowered. brushing his lips so close to yours. you can feel his breath.

then, out of nowhere, he presses a kiss to your lips.

your heart stops. he pulls away your tears still flowing. his heart aches at the expression on your face. it was like he completely shattered your heart. but you still held onto him, burying yourself closer to his side, ultimately falling asleep to his strokes.

the next morning you woke up beside nobara tucked under the blanket. you buried your face even deeper, ignoring nobara’s comments about it being the first time you don’t kick her in your sleep.

if toji was expecting not to see you because of what happened, he was very wrong. you still came to watch yuuji practice in the gym, you still lounged around the fushiguro household, you even joked with toji as if nothing was wrong. toji was happy you were doing okay. but he felt his stomach churn when megumi mentioned.

“ya supposedly they got into it yesterday.” toji closes the fridge, turning to look at his son sitting at the counter eating. by they he means you and your dick faced “boyfriend”.

“what about?” megumi glanced up, toji noting the look. “you’re the one that brought it up.”

megumi swallows his food. “something about never being alone together. so they started arguing at todo’s place and he ditched her. now she’s giving him the silent treatment, but last night they got into another fight in the car. nobara and maki came rushing out to—“

“did he lay his hands on her?” toji suddenly starts up. not realizing his complete attention is on the kid. megumi quirks a brow, shaking his head.

“no, but…” he swallows again. “everyone’s telling her to break up with him. there’s zero redeeming qualities about the guy. he treats her like shit. flirts with every other girl when she’s not around. I don’t know why she’s still with him.”

toji didn’t know why he cared so much. why he’d carefully guide any conversation he had with his son to you. wondering how you’re doing, checking in on something megumi had told him last week. megumi wasn’t an idiot, but toji couldn’t even realize what he was doing to know how to not do it. especially when megumi stated.

“you never ask how nobara is doing.” the weight of the statement sent the room into a momentary silence. the only thing that could be heard was the characters talking on the tv in the distance.

when toji failed to respond it left the two simmering in silence.

but toji couldn’t help the small jitters that filled his stomach when he heard the familiar footsteps late at night. of course he knew you were over, and of course he made a show downstairs grabbing a drink to show that he’s staying up. all he had to do was wait an hour until time the rest fell asleep, to enjoy your company alone.

“did i miss anything?” you slid onto the couch, curling up as you hugged the pillow. toji briefly explained the last episode, before sinking back into silence. toji didn’t mind the silence, but he also knew that usually during these nights you both would talk for hours. but he knew this time was different. his eyes focused on the screen. but he could feel your eyes on him. drinking in his beautiful face, his sharp jawline, his damp hair. everything about him was perfection in your eyes. you knew it was forbidden which made it more exhilarating.

he liked when your eyes were on him. he also hated the small victory that lit his being when he reclined even more, spreading his legs wider and opening his arm up. an invitation.

you gently slid closer, cuddling up to his side. he was always so warm, a personal heater, and you were happy to be wearing shorts and a loose tshirt, smiling to yourself. you couldn’t help but lean closer, blushing at his natural scent mixed with the forest body wash.

“you smell good,” you mutter, making the older man chuckle lightly.

“thanks, sweetheart.” he rests back, settling in again, arm tightening around you.

your heart was pounding, lips parted as you glance up. his neck gave easy access, but you had to bite your lip. your legs closed tight, your thoughts swirling in your head causing your body to react to things he’s never done to you! yet, you also have a mouth that seems to act on its own too…

“do you hate me?”

toji’s brows shot up. “why would I hate you?”

your ears sting, burying your face in his chest. toji sighs, pulling you even closer, his hand gently tracing small strips up and down your arm. an odd occurrence followed, one that surprised him, but nonetheless he did.

“i like your company. spending time with you isn’t so bad.” the truth that slipped his lips was something he hadn’t done in awhile. he spoke to you often, that’s correct, but talking about his feelings, that took something more. however, his stomach churned when he felt your body tense. turning his head, he glances down.

staring right at him are your big doe eyes filled with unshed tears, your soft wet lips trembling gently. his heart skipped a beat. “what’s wrong?!”

“nothing.” your ears sting, immediately covering your face. you sniffle, desperately trying to collect yourself. toji chuckles, landing a hand on your head. the rough treatment immediately softens, coaxing you to slowly pull your hands away.

“are you embarrassed?” his voice was so deep, which didn’t help your flustered state. his hand slides to the back of your head once you look up at him again. his half lidded eyes made your cheeks flush. the shadows that highlighted his features, his own lips parting showing you his tongue as he licked his lips. his body heat making you sweat. he was definitely not from this earth. “you’re so cute.”

your breath hitched. did you say that? no, that was definitely him. your throat is dry as he gently massages the flesh of your thigh. he laughs again. “don’t pretend like you don’t know. is that why you’re always crying in front of me?” he knows that isn’t why, but still. “batting your big eyes at me.”

“i…” your cheeks flush a deeper crimson. he smiles in victory. hes left you speechless.

“that’s my weakness.”

“girls crying?” you mutter, upset.

he massages your thigh, leaning further down, giving you no escape from his eyes. “seeing you cry.” you mouth went dry. “are you embarrassed?”

“no.”

he licks his lips. “good.” he smiles. “you don’t have to be embarrassed around me.”

you can smell his musk more clearly, clouding your senses, but still mutter. “same to you.”

he smiles again, but this time it’s more tender. “whys that?”

“i like it when you’re being yourself.” your words are even sweeter than your voice, causing a light flush to spread across the man’s cheeks. “you’re really funny…and I like when you’re having a good time. it makes me happy.”

his eyes grew bigger. heart beating faster.

“what?” you’re looking at his shocked expression, ready to throw yourself out the window for embarrassing yourself—

“nothing.” he tilts his head, eyes softening. “i missed your voice.”

idiot! who says that. you try to look away, but he’s so close, your eyes can’t help but dart around like a lost puppy. “whatever.”

“you were quiet this whole time, but now you’re saying such adorable things.” he lightens the air when you bite your cheek. “i like hearing you talk too.”

“really?” you mutter.

“it’s nice.” your finger lazily twirls around the hem of his shirt. “you like it when i say you’re nice?” you nod. he clicks his tongue. “i wanna hear you.”

“yes.”

“good girl.” he coos, massaging your thigh with his big hand, crawling it further between your legs, having noticed earlier how much you were keeping them closed. you whimper so softly when he squeezes the inside, your skin so soft in his rough palm. “you like that I’m praising you or touching you right now?”

what’s going on? why is he acting like this? he laughs again! “cmon…you come here at night and pretend to be all quiet.”

your jaw is weak, staring at him.

“is it because i kissed you?”

your breath catches.

he leans closer, hand falling deep between your legs, grabbing your inner thigh, your warmth spreading from his hand all the way to his pants, feeling his bulge start to lift his sweats up. ah how much he liked that feeling. when you’d make him feel his heart beat a little faster.

“do you want another kiss?”

you nod your head immediately, hair falling down in eagerness. he waits, raising a teasing brow.

“i want you to kiss me.”

“good girl,” he leans even closer, the small space between you felt like hours instead of seconds. the tension building as you felt his breath fan across your wet lips.

as if he could feel your staggered breath, he leaned forward. his lips curl up watching your eyes flutter just before he meets your lips.

it felt different then your first kiss. he was much more confident, and so were you. so warm and wet. he kisses your bottom lip, caressing it with his tongue and holding your thigh, his eyes half-lidded as he watches your features contort in pleasure.

his hand travels a little higher, continuing his slow caresses, smiling even more when he pulls away, noticing your leaning further in awaiting some more.

“eager, now.”

you hum, shamelessly. sending a wave of blood rushing into his hard-on. he captures your lips again, biting down on your lip, a silent punishment for getting him so worked up. but the gasp you let out gives him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, caressing your tongue with his. your hand falls on his wrist, the way he’s squeezing your soft flesh has your panties completely soaked, and the only thing running through your dizzy head is the thought of his long rough fingers playing with your pussy.

toji pulls away again, this time to catch his breath, your tongue hanging out and your hazzy eyes had him smiling. “you like it?” he kisses your tongue. “you taste good.” he licks your tongue. “want more?” he pulls away just a bit once you let out a little moan. he doesn’t know how far he’s pushing it, but when he carefully tilts your chin, thumb stroking your bottom lip before pulling it down, you suddenly felt a rush of hot white heat.

his tongue came out to spit into your mouth.

and his cock almost burst at the moan that escapes the back of your throat.

you lean forward, kissing him again, your hand holding his wrist as you press his hand to your cheek, desperate for more attention.

toji pulls away, your lips part, but a gasp escapes when your back hits the cushion. laying across the couch, he leans down between your legs, resuming the makeout session. it was wet and messy, all thoughts thrown away as you both got lost in the others lips. the longer it went on the more toji started pushing the very big red line that’s he’s been slowly crossing.

with caution, he slowly began to lower his hips, closer to your open legs. his tongue playing with yours had him grabbing the cushion beside you, finally pressing his bulge right against your clothed cunt.

your jaw dropped. pussy tightening as he gives another cautious role of his hips. you can feel him so clearly, the sweatpants and your shorts weren’t doing much as he rolled his hips again and again. blood flooding your cheeks as you felt the outline of his cock. he was big. the stimulation on your clit had you gasping quietly. tongue falling out for more of his wet kisses. he swore very quietly, only enough for you to hear as you bucked your hips up. your legs came up to the back of his thigh, then up his torso as he continued to rub himself between your legs.

a wet patch slowly began to emerge between your grey shorts and his white ones. he was getting himself worked up, and your little gasps and moans were enough for him to start to lose all control.

his fingers slid between your bodies, playing with the waistband of your shorts, creeping a hand into the front, his head spinning as he watched your pretty lashes bat up at him, tongue sticking out awaiting his fingers to touch the place you were so needy for.

“dad?”

time stopped.

toji immediately froze as you tensed up, eyes staring up at toji in horror. the slow steps up the staircase, gave toji enough time to pull away, cursing at the wet patch between your legs, then noting his own. he tosses a blanket over you, as he grabbed another blanket throwing it over his lap.

“pretend to sleep.” he shot at you, even though you were still overwhelmed by the sudden shift, you listened. closing your eyes.

reaching the top of the stairs, Megumi shuffled lazily towards the couch, rubbing his stomach under his shirt.

“dad.” toji looks over his shoulder, grunting a response. “need your phone.”

toji holds his phone up. megumi comes closer, taking it, that’s when he notices the second person in the room. “y/n?” toji shushes him immediately.

“she’s sleeping.”

“why here?” that’s when you and toji both realize that not everyone knew you came up here when everyone fell asleep. it almost felt like some dirty secret getting revealed now.

“she couldn’t sleep, I don’t know,” toji shrugs. “why do you need my phone?” he pretends like megumi can’t read him, even though toji never questions megumi for wanting his phone.

“can’t find my phone.” Megumi gives one last look between you and toji before heading down stairs, his dad’s phone in his hand calling himself. once his feet disappear, you’re sitting up, but toji presses a hand to your thigh.

“he’ll come back up.”

the room falls into silence. your eyes looking over at toji who’s attention is now back on the tv. his cheeks still slightly pink, especially with your attention focused on him.

you can’t help but mutter. “should I go?”

“if you want.”

“do you want me to stay?”

“i don’t care.”

your throat bops. suddenly feeling horribly uncomfortable. was this a mistake. should you ask if it was a mistake? but if he says yes, then you’ll definitely cry.

“is kyo coming tomorrow?” he’s never called your boyfriend by his real name, nor has he ever bring him up in conversation with you.

“why are you talking about him?”

“he’s your boyfriend, am i not allowed?” he’s still not looking at you.

“like you care.”

“you’re right. I don’t.” he tilts his head, so clearly agitated. you don’t know how to respond. you don’t think he’s ever spoken to you with such edge.

you disobey him and sit up, your eyes swirling with confusion, and the second your hand lands on his, everything melts.

your hand was so warm on top of his. his eyes met yours as you peer up at him. not only is he a man, but he’s older too, so why is he acting like a jealous fucking teen?

“I’m sorry.” you words feel like absolute heartbreak. a pit of ugly guilt rages deep inside him, especially when he doesn’t respond, allowing you to stand, wrapping the blanket around you, leaving him.

megumi is startled when you suddenly appear at the bottom of the steps. he screws his eyes in the dark, were you crying? but you mask it with a fake yawn, rubbing your eyes as you fall beside nobara, burying the comforter over your nose.

“your dad is so boring.” you mumble, unconvincingly.

“are you ready?” yuuji nervously leans over megumi as they all huddled around the fighter as he sat on the bench. “are you hydrated? should i get more water? are you angry? the dude was yapping a lot before the match! he’s definitely talking shit about you right now, I can only guess what he’s saying—probably saying how you’re getting old and your punches are slower than snails!—“

“yuuji!” nobara elbows him. maki is coordinating with shiu, as toji continues sitting in silence, wrapping his hands.

“it’ll be great.”

toji feels his heart beat. glancing at you as you kneel in front of him. a soft smile on your lips as if last night had never happened. it was toji’s final match of his career. all of his son’s idiot friends were huddled in the locker room. but you also were here.

you were dressed all pretty, he had to suppress his thoughts when you came running into the locker room, afraid of being late. your hair so fluffy as your skirt danced around your thighs. you rarely wear skirts, he thought. your tight long sleeved shirt had his eyes zeroing in on how well it hugged your pretty tits. his cheeks ran hot as he remembered the way he rolled his hips up between your legs, the hot pulsing of your clothed pussy. fuck he regrets not slipping a hand up your shirt and squeezing your tit—

“how are you feeling?” your eyes fell soft. holding no animosity in them as you gently reached out to help him hold his gloves as he continued wrapping it around.

toji felt a burst inside his stomach, the good kind.

“ya you’ve got it! we’ve trained a lot!” yuuji is ready to interrupt some more before megumi grabs the back of his collar, holding him back. all because he saw the softness in his fathers gaze. his once pinched angry expression, was tender and gentle as you spoke to him. the conversation wasn’t in whispers, but it felt intimate. nobara looks over, also noticing megumi’s lingering eyes.

nobara wasn’t an idiot. at least not in the love department. she always knew, I mean she also found megumi’s dad hot as fuck. but finding someone attractive is different than the look you were giving him. like he held the entire world in his hands. it was definitely a look she’s never seen you give kyo. how didn’t she notice this before?!

“thanks, kid,” toji pats your head, tenderly. the aggressiveness of it, absent. he didn’t ruffle your hair, but the weight atop your head sent a fury of emotions swirling inside you. he ignored the brief moment of hurt that flashed across your face when he called you kid.

you glance up when he takes his hand away. his cheeks flush.

“anytime.” your smile was a puncture to his heart. no words came to his mind, so instead he brushed your hair, his thumb unconsciously caressing your cheek. your eyes swam with need, begging him for anything, but his hand drops. standing up and moving past you, following shiu’s directions.

kyo was already waiting at the vip seats. the rest of you joining once the lights began to dim for the athletes entrances. you were still in an argument with kyo, but he still held your hand when you sat beside him, his lips pressing to your cheek sweetly, smiling when you hum in acknowledgment, but it’s all thrown out the window once toji steps into the cage.

the arena immediately shifts, his energy resonates throughout the entire stadium.

this was your second time seeing toji’s match in person. however, knowing this was his last fight meant something different. yuuji was screaming his lungs out, as was nobara. toji was up against some young prodigy nicknamed ‘the honored one’, also known as gojo satoru.

your cheeks filled with blood as you screamed for toji’s victory. flinching and looking away when gojo sent a violent blow straight to his ribs. kyo glanced at the tremble in your eyes, brows creasing as you clutched your chest, as if grabbing at your heart. his jaw snapped.

“y/n, let’s go,” he suddenly stood, grabbing your arm.

“what?” you stumble, surprised by the aggressive pull. nobara and megumi looking over at the commotion. immediately stepping in to hold you back.

“what’re you doing?!” you struggle, wincing when his grip tightens on your wrist. the fight in the cage was getting more intense, but the grip kyo had on you made your stomach churn. his eyes filled with rage as he glared at you. “get…off—nobara,” you call to her, realizing that his grip really is tight.

“fuck off, kyo! megumi,” she looks over her shoulder but megumi is already gripping kyo’s wrist, making him loosens his grip on you. the scene was insignificant compared to the fight in the stadium, but being close to the cage, it caught toji’s attention.

his expression darkened, blocking gojo kick, as he immediately spun, hitting gojo right in the ribs knocking him back. toji glanced again to see you back in your seat clapping and cheering. what happened? were you okay—

“eyes here old man!” the white haired kid cackles. itching a sore spot in toji.

“what’s happened I can’t look anymore!” Yuuji cries covering his eyes as you clutch his collar, shaking him like crazy as you scream. nobara is biting her nails as megumi winces. gojo landed another violent hit straight to toji’s already bleeding eyebrow.

“stop it, he’s gonna win!” you cry, heart pounding and gaze fixed on toji. your lips trembling as toji stumbles. somehow, you feel butterflies breakout the second toji glanced briefly in your direction. you don’t know if he’s looking at the group or you, but still, you couldn’t help yourself from smiling, putting two thumbs up encouragingly. even though you were scared seeing him bleed so much, you couldn’t describe the amount of confidence you had in his victory.

the stupid smile almost had toji scoffing in amusement. you really are adorable.

so when toji’s name rings out throughout the entire stadium as the victor, your screams were deafening. yuuji crying from happiness as nobara shakes megumi and you’re…you’re completely in tears. choking with joy as you all scramble into the cage to congratulate the victor. however just when you’re about to reach him, a bunch of press speakers and cameras block your path.

nevertheless, the afterparty at the gym was enough time to celebrate the winner. everyone was there. drinks and music blasting as you all congratulate the man.

you were babbling to toji, your lips curling once he pats your head affectionately. answering your unending questions as he continued talking. it came easy to him, having you listen to him.

“I told you this story already?” he realizes midway.

“it’s okay, i like hearing you talk,” you smile tenderly, triggering a deep flush on his cheeks, something that’s become more and more familiar. clearing his throat, he pets your head, so you wouldn’t catch his expression.

“y/n.”

your heart drops, turning to see kyo. “we need to talk.” he glared past you at toji, who raised a brow, testing him back. you set aside your drink, apologizing to toji.

a hand stopped you.

“break up with him.”

his thumb caressed your wrist gently. but his words only did the opposite. your expression reminded him of the day he told you his feelings about kyo. why did you look at him like that?

“he’s a dick…you deserve better.”

your jaw clenched, the ground occupying your pretty eyes, toji waited for you to think. but when glanced back up, he inhaled sharply, your lips wet as a few tears lined your waterline.

“I’ll never have better.”

you rip your arm away, turning on your heel. he watches you exit the gym, meeting kyo outside. he can’t describe the ugly twist that he felt deep in his gut. he drank some more, and some more, until he realized that getting drunk was nothing and that he’d rather head home. he didn’t want to think about it, or about his feelings, none of it. his gaze fixed on the tv as he waited for sleep to take him.

unfortunately the rest of the kids were black out drunk. so toji had to hear the commotion downstairs as they crashed into things and yuuji’s whispering was more like yelling. after a couple of minutes it was finally silence again, except for his show…

“what’d I say about sneaking around?”

toji heard the creaking. recognizing your soft footsteps the moment you stepped up the staircase, clearly trying to conceal your presence.

“thought you were sleeping…” your voice was meek, as you stare at the back of his head. your heart thumping loudly once you saw his arm raise lazily, two fingers motioning you forward.

of course, you obeyed. sucking in some air to calm your nerves as you round the couch, slowly. toji watched your bowed head, that’s when he heard the quiet sniffles. his brow pinched high as he sat straight.

“did something happen?” he was on alert.

you don’t respond. only feeling your cheeks flush and heart clench, why is he so concerned?

“did the prick lay his hands on you,sweetheart?”

sweetheart….he really picks his moments, you scoff. “he didn’t.”

he settles back. but you raise your head, tears sprinkling out like beautiful jewels.

“why did you ask me to break up with him?” you hiccup. toji is left speechless. why was he so mesmerized by your emotions. his pretty girl, crying so vulnerably. “answer me!”

“I don’t know.”

he cringed. it was evident you disliked that answer.

you bit your cheek, grasping at your megumi’s shirt. you felt your cheeks run hot, lips wet as you spoke. toji could read your lips before he heard the words. his stomach churning in disgust.

“he wants to have sex with me.” your face is burning, but you don’t care anymore. “kyo has been begging me. we’ve kissed me, he’s sucked my tits. I’ve given him handjobs. but he wants to have sex with me now.”

his jaw was locked, veins straining his arms and neck. “I don’t like knowing that shit.” his voice was deep sending even more nerves down your throat.

but you don’t care anymore. you swallow thickly. toji didn’t know if he was prepared to hear about your sexual relationship with that shithead. knowing he laid his dirty hands on you, kissed your pretty lips, played with your full beautiful tits that he loved to stare at. his blood was boiling.

“toji,” your lip trembles. cheeks hot knowing this is the first time you’re calling him by his first name. toji also noticed, especially as you inched closer. your tears still full in your eyes, making his chest swell, unable to tear his gaze away from you. “I don’t want him touching me anymore.”

his arms instinctively reach out, and pull you onto his lap. his arm circling your back as he cups your neck with the other. “i only want you.”

“fuck.” his lips crash into yours.

your hands instinctively go to his hair as he licks your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open, pushing his tongue to meet yours. you felt your stomach explode, eyes filing with tears as you kissed him back passionately. cheeks stinging as he caressed his wet tongue against yours, groaning as you arched into him. his rough hands pulling your hips forward, groaning as you slide against his bulge. you gasp, pulling away for a second, but his lips move to your neck, licking a strip up to your ear.

“be a good girl, start rocking on me.” your body shivered, humming as you started rolling your hips down on his hard bulge. “just like that. feel good?” he nips at your skin, helping your pace as you hum softly. the cotten shorts you wore slide with each grind making toji feel more clearly the heat radiating from your pussy.

“you can’t cry like that. it messes with my head.”

you moan gently as you feel his hands slide up under your shirt. eager to listen, you helped him pull it over your head, tossing it to the side. your cheeks aflame the second he saw your bare chest. you liked it so much, his attention all on you. you wanted him to touch you so badly. a deep groan resounded from the back of his throat .

“you know how many times I’ve imagined seeing these,” he grabs a handful of your tit, licking his lips at the weight in his palm. you watch him lean forward, tongue sticking out to run from the underside, licking a long tantalizing strip up, pressing down when he got to your nipple.

“i thought i was seeing things,” you moan gently, hand tugging on his black locks. “i didn’t know if you were staring at them.”

“how could i not? you made it pretty hard,” he drools on your nipple, your eyes dilating at the lewd sight. “dreamed about sucking these pretty tits. you purposely wore flimsy bras in the gym so I can see them bounce?” your cheeks flush as you pout looking away. he groans again, more frustrated. “you let that asshole touch you like this?” you whine when he bites meanly down on your nipple, tongue swirling to ease the pain before he does it again, his other hand helping you rock a little quicker, your shorts sliding to the side, as your pink panties come into view. completely wet as you whine.

“only a few times,” you mutter.

“few times.”

“he’s my boyfriend—ah!” you cry louder, the bite he gave much harsher, tears trickling out. you feel pathetic as you cry just from the stimulation of your tits, toji was growing more annoyed.

“you didn’t break up with him?” your lips part, grasping his hair, whining when he pulls away, looking up at you. you were lost, your lips hanging open as you stare down at the man.

“i—“

something strange surged inside him as he quickly went back to your lips, cutting off any response. his body hugging you closer to his chest as he slid your shorts and panties to the side, a low groan slipping once he felt your arousal coat his fingers. “your pussy’s crying too,” he coos.

“finger me, please, please,” you gasp, whining even more as he circled your cute little clit. his senses running haywire the more you begged.

“you’re so needy.” he groans, pinching your clit making you cry. “has he fingered you? shoved your cute cunt with his disgusting fingers?”

“mmm….he has,” you cry out feeling toji shove two fingers inside you without warning. his teeth biting down on your nipple as you tremble all over. “i like it….like it….” you moan, jaw dropping as he abused your pussy, stretching it out with his fingers, only to curl them right on your squishy part, grinning at the shocked expression that flashed across your face.

“he make you cum?” toji grunts, glancing down at the arousal that slide down his palm, licking his lips.

“he did….made me cum…” your words only fueled a dormant emotion that he thought he’d never feel again. jealousy.

toji curled his fingers, biting your lips as he sent you over the edge. your entire body shook, clinging onto him as you came with a shocked gasp. tears sliding down your hazzy eyes. “toji…mmm…” your soft little voice resounded in his ear as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder still shaking. however, toji only gave you a moments rest, before he was lifting you with him.

“I’m not done.”

your body hit the unfamiliar bed, your eyes briefly glancing around you as your vision cleared. It was a spacious master bedroom, your eyes catching the minimalist dark furniture, and the large balcony windows briefly open. “”ah!”

your hips jumped, legs closing around his hand after feeling the harsh slap to your pussy. you glared up at him.

“ow!” you cry, pouting once toji kneeled on the bed, shoving your legs open.

“i was talking to you and you weren’t listening.” he rubs your pussy again, his expression was sinister, dark…fuck he was so hot. your cheeks went pink when he aggressively pulled your shorts and panties off, spreading your folds apart. “you’re telling me…” his jaw locks. “the prick saw your pussy?”

you bit your cheek, nodding your head. a wave of arousal rushed down to your pussy once toji dropped his head back, groaning in frustration. his hand coming up, laying another harsh slap to your pussy.

“i answered you!” you cry, holding his wrist, not admitting to him how turned on this was making you.

“well I’m pissed,” he huffs, giving another slap, now getting a moan out of you.

“why are you pissed?” you cry, another slap making your hips buck. his eyes no longer shined green, but instead were encompassed by a dark black shadow.

“because he touched you.”

“so?”

“so, it’s annoying. he’s not allowed too.”

“and whys that?”

“because you’re mine.”

toji was heaving. his nails having dug into your knees, only now realizing his words. your reaction absolutely priceless. the stunned expression and wide eyes sent his heart racing.

“fuck, don’t look at me like that.”

his tongue licks your lips, groaning as he felt your tongue meet his, a satisfied whimpering slipping from the back of your throat. your hips bucking as your own nails racked through his hair. his fully clothed body made you even more turned on, bucking your hips up as he began to grind down on your pussy.

“can you eat me out?” you mutter, rocking your hips up. toji chuckles, sliding down your body as he licked and kissed your nipples, licking down your tummy, as he sucked a dark bruise on your pelvis. your cheeks flush, your fantasies slowly unfolding before your eyes. toji brings your hand to his hair, looking directly into your eyes as he licks a bold strip up your pussy.

his own eyes roll back, groaning as your arousal floods his tastebuds. he takes another lick, swirling his tongue deeper between your folds, playing with your pussyhole, purposely avoiding your bud.

“tojiii,” you whine, tugging his hair. he grunts. “you’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean?” he smirks, parting from your wet folds. “because I’m not kissing your little clit.”

you nod, flustered. “but it’s all swollen and pink, I don’t wanna hurt you.” he feigns concern, making you look away, ears hot.

“you won’t hurt me.”

he didn’t know if it was the combination of your voice and that expression that made him nearly cum in his pants, but he broke.

your back arched off the bed as he sucked your clit harshly into his mouth. the sudden stimulation had you crying, your hand coming up to your mouth as the other held his dark locks with a vicious grip. it was a pleasant surprise to toji, though he fantasized about his son’s close friend being shy and somewhat of a prude, he was practically drooling seeing you so aggressive and needy with him.

encouraging you to tug his hair, he lapped your clit, biting down whenever he felt you loosen your grip in his hair. fuck, this was definitely a kink. his arms wrapped around your thighs, lifting your hips up onto his lap as he bent his back eating you out. you’ve never seen anything like it.

the dark bruise on his eye, the cut on his nose, the cracked knuckles gripping your flesh….your eyes rolled back as he pulled out, spitting a big wet glob right on your clit, his jaw aching, but seeing the way you twitched, and tugged his head back, he felt how drenched his boxers were.

“toji…keep…going,” you pant, your grip doesn’t loosen, which was enough for him to continue. the knot inside your core, starting to tighten more and more, edging you closer as he slurped your arousal, the lewd sounds, clouding your senses as he pulled your hips higher to his face, your heels pressing on his shoulder blades as you bite your hand, the broken cries and aggressive tug had toji moaning into you.

“gonna cum… ‘m…hngh close…” your voice cracks, eyes rolling back as toji feels your body tense. his tongue flattening on your clit, sucking your bundle.

your eyes widen, suddenly loosening your grip as you push your palm on his forehead trying to push him away.

“toj-m-move I-i—“ you were gasping, moans choking your words as you shiver. toji aggressively hugs your thighs, keeping your body still against his face.

“if you don’t cum on my face, then don’t ever think about doing this again.”

it was a lie. but you didn’t need to know that. you cried, eyes filling with tears as your legs began to shake uncontrollably.

“b-but tojii…”

you bury your face in your arm, which he notices right away, biting down on your clit. your back lifts as you squeal.

“hands off.”

you shake your head, so toji unwraps an arm to grab both your wrists, holding them down against your tummy as he sucks your clit between his teeth, the sounds of his mouth had you crying immediately punching the coil as your hips stutter up and a drawn squeal comes from the back of your throat as a wave of relief washes over you, releasing a flow of pleasure…. hitting toji.

“shit.” he utters, jerking back when he feels the splash hit his face. your wrist wiggles in his grip as you gasp. “fuck…” his groan is low as he slaps your pussy, making a bigger mess as you continue to release a stuttered flow.

“mess—ahnghh-“ you cry, not even able to finish your sentence.

“ya its fucking messy,” he chuckles, “and hot.” his eyes darken as he latches his lips back on your pussy, drinking your arousal with more pleasure than he can bear, eyes closing briefly as you cry a little louder. “that’s it. ngh all over my face, puppy.” he’s panting, “ya good girl.”

toji doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so attractive. the twist in your face, the drool coming from your lips, the tears filling your eyes, your tits high up in the air, all from his mouth. he’s so sloppy, circling your overstimulated clit as you shake and stutter, quiet sobs slipping out.

finally, he lets go with a wet pop. your pussy clenching in spasms as you gasp. tears blocking your vision until you feel the relief of your hands being free, rubbing your eyes lazily, leaving your hands over your face.

“why did you do that?” you sniffle.

“are you embarrassed?”

you’re quiet.

“have you ever squirted on that shithead?” your legs rest on either side of his torso as he lazily strokes your thighs and hips. large hands soothing you.

your fingers split apart as you look at toji. his eyes immediately finding yours, softening a bit at the dried tears.

“we’ve only ever kissed.”

silence. his face drops.

“what….”

your stomach twists when you see his brows start to come together, looking at you more sternly. his grip tightens around your hips, your body cringing, as he slowly realizes what you’d just done.

“you lied to me?”

“i extended the truth.”

he laughs. “that’s an understatement. so he’s never touched you? your tits—“

“that wasn’t a lie.”

“so you admit you were lying.”

“no!” your hands fall, staring back. that’s when you really clock in on the state he’s in. his face wet with your arousal, shirt also being victim to your pleasure, his hair was a mess, not realizing how much tugging you’d done till now. his arms bulging as he held your hips. and his cheeks were so pink!

is he mad? the longer he stares the more you feel blood rushing up to your face. “the part about kissing, playing with my tits, and um handjobs, was for real….everything after that….no.”

you’re looking away now. biting your cheek nervously, because yes, he’s older and definitely much scarier when he’s all serious.

“are you mad?” you mutter.

his hands travel up your torso, thumb caressing the warm skin, making you more nervous.

“mad…” he repeats, like he’s thinking it over. you glance back at him, lips parting.

he takes the invitation, kissing you deeply. you hum in surprise, tasting yourself immediately which sends your body burning again. he presses himself over you, trapping your arms between your chests, his lips part, your tongue coming out making him grin. “you knew how much I hated that douche and used it against me.”

you flush, licking your lips as he continues to stare down at you, much closer now. “i wasn’t sure if it was gonna work.”

“well it did.”

he kisses your cheek, dipping closer to your ear to whisper a gentle. “at least, now I know I’m the only one that’s seen you like this.” he licks your ear to conclude, sending a shiver up your spine. his arm sliding up your thigh, moving down to grab your ass, kneading the flesh, before laying a slap. a yelp slips in surprise. “you like making me loose my cool?”

he slaps your ass again, your head shaking as you manage to free your arms, trying to hold his shoulders, just for a harsher slap to send your hips bucking up, pressing into his shirt. “getting my dick hard just for your little games.”

you’re not even trying to hide your moans anymore. each slap sending another wave of pleasure down to pool in your pussy.

“my puppy likes being all dirty,” he growls, biting your lips as he holds your body off the bed, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs crossed behind his back as he rocks his cock into you, kissing you so passionately it’s making you dizzy again. this time when he pulls away, the string of spit connecting you guys has you loosing all cool, all to utter the silly command.

“spit in my mouth.”

toji freezes.

you’re staring up at him, with big dumb eyes. lips open softly. now he’s the one that’s blushing. his cheeks bright red as he stares at you.

“fuck me.” he drops you on the bed, unwrapping your arms, as he sits up. your heart is beating rapidly, frozen because now you’re scared you’ve done the wrong thing. was that it? is he gonna leave—no he’ll kick you out—

“since when did you start acting like a little virgin, who wants to get her pussy ruined?” he snaps. his voice deeper than before. your eyes wide when you see him stripping his shirt, your lips closing as you see his muscles flex, then his beautiful abs right in front of you. the bruises from todays match looked painful, especially the one on his ribs, remembering the harsh blow his opponent had given him. but your mind is swept away when his biceps flex, leaning forward, hand holding your face tight, he tilts your face up. “open wide.”

you feel like cumming just from his command. but you submit immediately, opening your mouth, tongue hanging loosely as you blush, waiting for him because he makes you wait, just enough for him to capture this image before him. his son’s pretty little friend, sticking her tongue out for him, her pussy hot and messy, and her tits covered in his spit. and it was all for him.

he leans forward, gathering a nice amount in his mouth, lining himself over you. he stays a distance away.

you’re panting like a cute puppy, desperate for any attention. drool slipped down your chin, as he felt it roll down his wrist.

you’ll be the death of him.

he spits.

the low groan was deep seeing your entire body shake as his heavy spit lands on your tongue. your hips bucking as you roll his spit in your mouth, whining so audibly in pleasure.

“swall—“

you already do. your body suddenly rehydrating like that was the first drink you’ve had in days.

“what a dirty fucking pup,” he grabs your jaw again, crashing his lips on yours. you whine, flushing at how loud he’s kissing you. it was so messy, and sloppy, your hands holding his wrist as he moved your jaw up, deepening the kiss, tongue pushing inside your mouth as more spit collected between your battling tongues.

“can you fuck me now?” you push away, panting in his mouth as you try to slide your heel into his waistband from behind.

a sudden thrill takes over your body at the deadly smirk he gives you. laughing into your lips. “you’re not shy are you?”

“you’ve already made me squirt,” you look away. “that was embarrassing.”

toji doesn’t laugh, his eyes boring into your face, making your skin warm. “I’m jealous.”

“huh?”

“I’m jealous that you can give me something so special.” your cheeks heat up, you can tell by his eyes that he was being serious. “I want you to give me more.” he dips his head, kissing your chin, moving down to your neck. his lips trail down to the tops of your tits, kissing his way down, distracting you as his thumbs hook under his sweats and boxers, pulling it down.

your head is tipped to the side, letting out sighs of pleasure.

“mmm, toji,” you squeak, hips jumping when you feel his two fingers inside your pussy.

“fuck, you’re too tight,” he mutters more to himself. that’s when you realize what he means. he’s sitting between your legs completely naked. you feel your breath catch when you follow the dark hairs of his happy trail all way down to the well-groomed but still hairy base of his thick cock. fuckk. your mind cannot wrap around how big he is. it was shiny which meant he’d already stroked his pre-cum around, now it was hanging between his large thighs, too heavy to stand fully erect. you couldn’t stop the drool from slipping out.

kyo’s didn’t look like that.

“No kidding.” toji meets your puzzled eyes. you’d just said that out loud? and now he has the most shit-eating grin ever.

toji pushes a third finger inside, making your jaw drop, reaching out for him. “it okay princess, I’ll make it fit.” your eyes kept falling down to the monster between his legs, your head going cloudy just thinking about it how that’ll be possible.

“want it now… put it inside me.”

toji clicks his tongue, still fingering you, his brows pinched in concentration. his tip was an angry red, leaking even more.

“you’re too tight. haven’t fucked a virgin in awhile.”

“it’s fine. I just…” you whined bucking your hips to the rhythm of his skilled fingers. “just want your d-dick inside me, please. please.”

toji slaps your pussy. hard. “stop being a fucking brat.”

you bite your lip only to start whining again as you keep eyeing his heavy hanging cock his tip drooling making your pussy tighten around his thirsting fingers. his dark pubes made your pussy cream even more. “toji.” you draw out his name. he meets your gaze, clearly frustrated, but suddenly you give him that annoying look. the one where your eyes get all big, dumb, and wide, and you bat your lashes up at him, your lips all wet and pouty. his jaw clenched. you could even see the vein on his jawline, only making you more needy. it was the same look you would innocently give him when he’d scold you about walking home alone at night.

“can’t even let me open you up,” he slaps your pussy. “crying like a whiny little brat.”

“please.” tears swell up, gently making your eyes sparkle.

he rolls his neck. “you’re killing me, sweetheart.” your hands reach for him, making him click his tongue as he grabs his base, pumping his cock harsher than you’d expect. your lips fall open, salivating at the sight. your mind remembering all his matches, how every hit he threw looked like he was breaking cement in half. you swallow thickly, eyes glancing up to see toji’s flushed cheeks as he jerks himself off. his eyes staring at how close your pussy is to his dick.

your stomach twists, a stupid feeling swelling in your belly as you become jealous of his hand.

“in me. toji toji—“

“I needa teach you a fucking lesson about patience,” he grabs your face, immediately seeing how dilated your pupils are, as you lean up, meeting his lips. you were fucking adorable, the desperation made him twitch even more. he couldn’t remember the last time he’s leaked this much pre-cum where it looked like he basically came already. “gonna take it slow.” he utters, rubbing his tip between your folds, collecting all the messy slick.

you moan into his mouth, soft little sighs as he continues his teasing actions, your fingers brushing his nape as you lick his bottom lip waiting….waiting. when his tip catches onto your clit, you let out a quiet cry. “to…jj…stop playing with me…”

“it’s all swollen though,” he coos, smiling when you flush, humming with him. “was I too mean on your poor clit?” you shake your head quickly. “want me to fuck y’r pussy now?”

“mhm, inside please, want it deep,” you add to his lewd words, making him chuckle. you always were a talker, but he’s still surprised how fucking dirty your mouth is. the same one that was always so polite with him, even if you guys did joke around, you always called him sir.

“eh, is that right?”

you nod, biting your lip, blushing when you hear him groan. he slides his tip down to your hole. your heart pounding a little faster, a small pit of fear dawning on you watching toji’s broad figure hover over you. his entire form covering you as he gently pushes his engorged cock head into your awaiting entrance.

you suck in sharply, gasping at the unknown feeling as he gives you your first real stretch, neck craning as your nails dig into his shoulder and nape.

“relax, sweetheart,” his hand runs up and down your thigh, squeezing your sweaty skin. as he runs a hand up your stomach letting you take some deep breaths. his jaw is clenched, biting down as he feels your vice grip on his cock, absolutely suffocating him. “fuck baby, y’r too tense, deep breaths.” he chokes out.

“o..okay.” you’re trembling. trying to take a deep breath, but it felt so weird, your pussy could feel his fat tip. his eyes fall to your scrunched up face. the only thing on your mind was simply. toji’s inside me. toji’s inside me. megumi’s dad is inside me! the chanting had you going dumb and unintentionally doing the worst thing you could do to a man struggling to hold his patience: you clenched around him.

“fuck baby!”

toji’s growl had your stomach tightening, squeezing him even harder as your back arched. “breathe baby!”

“i am,” your face is warm and sweaty. “help…it hurts.”

toji freezes, staring into your big doe eyes. his heart melts, cupping your cheek as he speaks gently.

“don’t cry,” he coos, “i’ll take care of it,” he strokes your cheek as you sniffle, nodding. “I’ll handle it.” you suddenly gasp feeling a familiar stimulation. his thumb swirling around your swollen clit making you whine in pleasure, he groans feeling your body start to relax a bit more. giving his cock some relief.

“just like that, good girl, shit,” he coos feeling you clench around him from the praise. “we’re not done yet sweetheart.”

“mmm, okay.” you’re so cute, but he sees the mischief in your eyes, that’s when he feels you start to rock your hips up. “want it all.”

“slowly.” he says sternly.

he pushes a little more, leaning back when you begin to act up again, his hand falling down on your pussy making you giggle in pleasure, his tongue peaks out to lick his teeth.

“don’t start acting like a spoiled brat again.”

“I’m not,” you whine, tongue coming out as you continue rocking your hips up. his stomach clenches, eyes falling over your sweaty figure. your tits bouncing with each buck. it would be so easy to slam into you right now. have your pretty lips cry out as he took your virginity so meanly.

“what a pretty girl,” he runs his hand up under your tits. smiling when you arch up for him. he continues to push his cock deeper inside you, your moans shifting into a quiet cry. “never had a pussy this tight. ya ever put anything inside?” you shake your head.

“no,” you blush, biting your lip trying to decide if you should say what you wanted.

“spit it out.”

“i wanted you to be the first person to touch me down there.”

you whine feeling his big cock twitch inside you. he’s pulling out, sliding back in getting your slick to run down his cock.

“ ‘s that right?” he lifts.

“mhm, didn’t wanna finger myself either.”

“so you only played with your little clit?” you nod.

“you’re so cute.”

your cheeks sting, opening your mouth to respond, but the stretch started to sting. he was going too slow.

your hands lift off your chest to reach for his shoulders. “too slow.”

“watch it,” he meets you lower, your hands running around his shoulders as you pant so softly at his agonizing pace. slowly stretching out your little pussy hole. “you’re gonna regret your words in a sec.”

“fuck me,” you command. the snappy voice making his jaw tick. you’re a fucking handful, and now seeing how much of an attitude you catch when you’re horny made him even more turned on.

“baby.” he warns.

“cmon, please please.”

his patience fucking breaks.

your breath catches when his arms are grabbing your thighs, pulling you forward so easily, immediately slamming his entire length inside you.

a strangled cry rips from your throat. gasping as he pulls out again and slams his burning cock deep inside you hitting your cervix and leaving it in there so you can feel just how full he’s making you.

“is that what you wanted? fuck!” his cheeks are red as he groans from the drag of his cock. you were absolutely suffocating him. his eyes glancing down at the blood mixing with the creamy base of his cock. his dark pubes all wet and sticky as the slick covered your thighs as well.

“g-goo…d…” you’re in tears, gasping as he slams his cock slow and hard. letting you feel him, every curve and vein of his cock. your mind going hazzy as you look up at his sweaty face, holding one leg under his arm as the other runs up your pelvis, pressing down on your stomach.

“feel that baby?”

you moan loudly when he presses on the bulge his cock was making. you nod, eyes looking up at him with hearts. his own chest beating rapidly, cock twitching as you clench around him.

“who’s making you feel good?”

“you are.” your hands fall to hold his on your tummy. “toji’s inside me.”

“that’s right, baby.” he groans again, thrusting into you again, and again. your gasps and cries making him start to lose his cool.

he leans back on his knees lifting you up easily, sitting you on his lap, his arm caging both your arms behind your back as his mouth immediately latched on to your tits, suckling on them as they hung right in his face.

“toji!”

he smiles, biting harshly on the buds as he held you close to his chest and started fucking up into you. the squelching of your sexes had you whining and crying. drool falling down your lips as he sucked bruises on your gasping tits.

“tell me how much you like getting fucked dumb.”

“I-i love it!” you cry, arms bound behind you only helping you arch closer to his chest as he held your wrists tight.

“you love?” he laughs loudly. “you came up to me because you knew I’d fuck this virgin cunt raw if I saw you, that right?”

“yes!” you’re definitely gone. “always thinking about you, sir!” his lips suck a harsh tug making your eyes roll back at the stimulation.

“what would that dumb head of yours think about?”

“a-about angh hngh your hands…” you break into moan when he slaps your ass at your hesitation. “and I thought about your dick.”

not surprising, but it still makes him grin widely.

“thought about how y-youd fuck me, and how you’d taste.” you whimper as his finger circles your little rim from behind. teasing you as he slows down each thrust so it was slow and sensual, wanting to catch every word.

“was your head always filled with sex when we talked?” he laughed. “poor virgin.”

“it was filled before we talked too. i love it…” your head forward, tongue sticking out as you press your head to his. “you’re perfect sir.”

he groans loudly. opening his mouth as you spit so generously. his arm caged your body tight as he started fucking you fast and hard, so unbearably rough you we’re seeing stars.

“big…ahh. toji,” your tongue hangs out as he goes harder. his eyes clenching as he feels his own orgasm starting to edge closer.

“tell me what you want baby,” he pants.

“p-put me….in a mating press.”

he snorts, loudly. “and how does my princess know that.”

you whine, feeling his cock nuzzle inside you again. “tw-twitter.”

toji laughs, freeing your arms to lay your back on the mattress. he grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulder as he leans over you. his big toned thighs press under your ass as he spreads his legs apart, sinking his cock deeper into you. “this what you want.” his voice shakes, only feeling your grip tighten around him again. “baby.”

“s-sorry.” you’re panting, his face was so close to you as he calmed his mind, fuck he needed to cum the second his pushed his tip inside you. he hadn’t realized how long it’s been. but he was going to take care of you first. your eyes rolled back as he pulled back, slamming his hips back in, he easily started picking up the pace, this position was all he needed to lose all sense.

“fuck, taking me all like a good fucking girl.” you clench. “like that baby?”

you moan in response, tits bouncing between you as he pushes down you so you can feel more of his weight. your pussy clenching and twitching around him. the lewd sounds of his cock fucking into you were loud. the slick, his thighs clapping into your ass in a relentlessly fast pace.

your tongue hangs out immediately making him lean down to lick your tongue. a moan coming out of him as you responded. you’ve never had an experience to compare this too, but was it supposed to be this messy? you couldn’t care. it was so hot. his big body handling every single part of you, he controlled the pace, the kissing, the touching—you loved it.

his fingers were digging into your thighs and his mouth was letting out so much spit that had you bucking and squirming drinking from his lips until you started crying. the sounds of your pussy producing more arousal had toji going faster.

“you’re gonna squirt all over me.” his command had you panting and moaning, tongue lulling out like a puppy. “got it puppy?” you flush.

“messy….big-“ your words were so scrambled, but he didn’t care. his pace was going faster, his biceps flexing around your thighs. oh how you wished this was being recorded, suddenly desperate to see his back muscles straining and moving as he was fucking you fast and hard. that sudden image in your head was enough to have your head falling back, eyes fluttering with tears as your orgasm crashes.

“fuckk fuck puppy,” his eyes are dilating as he looks down to see you gushing around his fat cock. the sounds of your pussy spraying as he continues to fuck more out of you has his ears ringing and stomach clenching.

you cried his name as he continued to pump his dick in and out, the clear liquid sprayed his thighs and the bed.

“that’s it, ah fuck , ungh fuck, fuck—“ toji was so vocal, grunting and moaning with how much you were squirting it seemed endless.

you were drooling, eyes crossed, vision white as pleasure consumed you. toji knew you lost all brain capacity when you began uttering the repeated sound of his name followed by little babbles of “want your cum.”

“you want my cum?” toji grins, showing his teeth as his thursts turned sloppy, losing his cool at your blessed out face.

“fill me up.”

fuck, toji really hated you. his hand grabbed your jaw, his thumb hooking inside your mouth, your tongue falling out. “telling me to fill this nasty pussy up wit’ my cum?” toji tsked feeling you clench at his words. “you don’t deserve it, being a brat the entire time.”

your drool coated his thumb as it ran down his wrist. along with your tears filling your eyes at his rejection. your hips bucked as you whined. “want it. want your cummy.”

cummy? if it was under any other circumstance the man definitely would have cringed, but you were absolutely fucked dumb, and hearing you slur your words had his whole body running hot.

“you’re not on the pill.” toji bites, jaw clenching as you licked and drooled on his tongue, eyes filled with tears.

“i am!”

his eyes sunk ten times darker. you were making him lose all sanity.

“shit.” his head dropped, hand grabbing the back of your knees, his entire body pressing down as he leans up, fucking his cock deep until you were absolutely knocked. the sight of his cock bullying your virgin pussy was making his head dizzy. your clit all puffy was like a magnet, drawing his thumb to fall on it in harsh circles. your body jerked, crying as you gripped the sheets.

“fhuck my pretty girl, squirting all over daddy’s cock.” your pussy clenched. “ya? like daddy’s cock filling you up?” his jaw clenched as your tongue peaking out shaking with each vicious thrust.

“daddy,” you repeat, head empty. “fill me up.”

you moan together. he was completely under your spell. his eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.

“never had this pussy filled, have you?” his thrusts are sloppy, his jaw clenched. “tell me why you deserve it?”

“g-good girl hngh!” your face was so cute, his laugh masking his groans.

“good girl eh?

you cry, nodding your head. “please!”

“who do you belong too?”

“you!”

“who?”

“t-toji…” your eyes are crossing, pretty tits shaking as his entire weight drives each thrust. the thought of his heavy cum filled balls bursting inside you…you tighten around him, his jaw clenching.

“who makes ya feel good?”

“you do, daddy!” his cock is twitching, abs clenched as he forbids himself from giving in just yet. the edging making his mind heated and the pleasure longer.

“no more boyfriend,” he pressed your knees down a little harder, almost suffocating you in this mating press. “you’re mine.”

“yesyes—“ the mindless chanting had his head spinning. the built up adrenaline from the match consuming his veins as he fucked out every last bit of it. your precious little body was the most generous outlet. his cock was so unbelievably painful, his moans were getting a little more vocal until finally he gave one final thrust until the first large burst of his cum painted your gummy walls. your mind went white, forgetting if you were even orgasming or not as you felt his cum gush inside you. his moans were unlike anything you’ve ever heard. so deep and strained. his body covered in sweat, muscles flexing as he shook with each thrust, filling you up until the cum started overflowing and coming out. he was stuttering above you, body shaking as he felt the most pleasure release him.

you were completely spent.

your vision was hazy as you drifted out.

“babygirl.”

you felt the gentle hand stroking your cheek as he leaned over you, his lips softly meeting yours. you sigh, opening your mouth automatically, inviting his tongue so you could suck on it, his thumb brushing your warm cheek as the other stroked your side, your legs lazily around his hips.

“you okay?” he pulled his lips away. “I wasn’t too hard?” he was still out of breath, which made you blush.

you shake your head. “not too hard. felt good. your cum is all warm inside.”

“ya?” he smirks, rubbing your thigh as he leans back. your pussy lips parting, all sticky as he watches his cum still seeping out. “you look so pretty like this.” his hand traces the olive branch tattoo on your thigh. “with my cum inside you.” he slowly bends down pressing a kiss to your sternum, your nails lightly scratch his nape, earning a satisfied hum. “do guys usually cum this much?”

toji blushes, lifting his head to look at you. “no, that’s why mine is more special.” he smiles, making you flush. “i mean it.” your lips part, but he looks back up, eyes meeting. “no shitty ass boyfriend.” you swallow.

“are you gonna be my boyfriend then?”

“yes.”

“you can’t just tell me what to do and—“ your breath catches, heart suddenly beating a lil faster, hyper aware of his long gaze. “what?”

“you said you’re mine. so that’s that.” toji moves up, just inches from your face as he watches every dart of your eyes, every breath that comes out…his lip tugs up. “you were only dating him because you didn’t have me.” your eyes look away.

“that’s that.” you repeat softly. your face is burning, an urge crawling up inside you. he wanted to be with you. he wanted to be with you….toji…wanted to be with you, but, “megumi.”

toji brushes your cheek. “don’t think about that. okay?” he kisses your warm cheek.

“okay.” he sits up fully now, gently dropping your legs. his face shifts slightly, his hand falling on the dark bruise on his ribs.

“does it hurt?”

his lips part to reassure you, but you lean over, laying your small soft hand on his ribs. “I’m sorry i asked you to go harder.” your lips meet his bruised skin, knowing it was a childish thing to kiss a bruise as if it was medicine. but toji’s face went bright red. his stomach fluttering as he stared down at you. your eyelashes so soft…

“don’t apologize, baby.”

your gaze meets, and he watches your eyes squint up as you smile. your thumb softly caressing the skin, sitting up. “but I’m sorry.” you tilt your head, giving a little pout. he raises a brow, his hands falling on your hips as you begin wrapping your arms over his shoulders, kneeling between his legs. “i was being a brat.” he knew exactly what you were doing. the playful glint in your eyes, the little teasing you only do with him.

“taking accountability?” he tilts his chin up, meeting your pout with a tilt of his own.

“mhm, i learn quick.” you smile. “did i work you hard? it’s okay we can go slower next time.” his jaw locks.

“oh ya?”

“mhm, it’s okay t-o-j-i, we’ll go at your pace.”

“you fucking minx.” he grabs a handful of your ass, pinching it. “you could barely take it.”

you squeal. “nuh-uh, you were trying not to bust a nut when you went inside me.” you squeal at the harsh slap.

“you’re a fucking talker ya know that.”

“you like it though.” you cry out a laugh as he grabs your face squeezing your cheeks to prevent you from yapping.

“making fun of an old man for controlling himself around a pretty little virgin. i would’ve hurt you, sweetheart, if i went too hard from the start. would’ve had you crying.” his eyes glanced over your face.

“i was crying already.”

he smiles. “that’s the good crying, baby.” he licks his lips. “would never actually hurt you intentionally.”

your stomach is bursting with butterflies. toji has always been kind to you and the others. he always kept his circle close, which really meant you were his own. but you didn’t expect such raw emotions from him. megumi rarely mentioned his long deceased mother, but when he did, it was always followed by how much toji had loved her.

the words slipped out before you could think. the green eyes suddenly grew lighter as his face went still.

“you’re a good man, toji.”

the warmth from his body spread to your cheeks as his arms loosened just slightly. not that he was pulling away, but that he was taking in your words. both of you so vulnerable at this moment, completely naked for everything to see, it felt more intimate than when he had his dick driving so deep inside you, giving you waves of his cum because this time his eyes grew softer, and his smile was as delicate as a dandelion.

“kiss me.”

you did.

you could feel the smile in his kiss. his lips wet, but soft. he was holding your chin, pulling away, his breath fanning your face.

“you’re an angel.”

your cheeks set on fire. lips breaking into a shy smile making him laugh.

“wanna shower?” you only nod, burying your face in his neck, clearly still embarrassed from his words, he laughs at your reaction, petting your head as he coos. “my little angel is embarrassed now.”

“am i your baby, sweetheart, puppy, or angel?” you mumble into his neck. “it’s too many.”

“is it too many, should i just stick with your name then?” he says your name. your body reacts, burying your face deeper into his neck. he barks out, laughing. “that’s your name, princess.”

princess now?! “shut up! you’re so doing this on purpose.”

“I’m just talking to you, puppy.” this fucking dick! you huff pulling away, you knew you looked flustered so you pushed his face away from you, not caring that he was wincing from touching his bruised eyebrow. “ow pup.”

you stumble off the bed, wobbling just so briefly before standing up straight. “puppy is a degrading one!”

“you came hard when I called you that. opened your mouth so wide—“

“ahhh shut up shut up shut up!” you cover your ears as you speed walk across the large master room to the bathroom. toji immediately jumps off the bed, scaring you. your eyes widen as he chases after you, making you squeal running faster.

“cmon, don’t act shy now. you were a pretty dirty angel when i had you stuffed full.” he grabs your wrists pulling them away from your ears. you shake your head. “stop it no, no—no bedroom talk when it’s not happening. what happens during sex stays in sex.”

“so ‘puppy’ is your sex name then. what if i want a little kiss?” you pause. “my mouth is so wet.” your eyes lock on his lips seeing him purposely collect the spit around. your body reacting immediately, stepping forward, as you lean up to meet his lips. “cmon puppy, open up.” your lips part, his pride swelling seeing you submit so fucking easily. his thumb comes up, pinching your nipple making your eyes flutter and moan drop your jaw. he spits directly into your mouth. “sex name?”

“shut up.” you lick your lips. cheeks hot as you turn your head. “are we gonna shower?”

he smiles.

next thing you know, you’re leaning against his arm, hugging it close as his other arm is slotted between you, fingers thrusting inside with such force, talking so dirty in your ear as you let out broken moans.

“you like getting finger-fucked by your friends dad, huh?”

your chopped moans had you drooling on his arm. eyes fully rolled back. “like daddy stretching this cute pussy?” your only replies were moans.

“come for daddy.”

“cu-cum-anghh.” your legs shake, knees giving out as you cum hard. he easily wraps a strong arm around you, holding you up.

you couldn’t wrap your mind on how you were even able to cum again, but when toji laid you under his bed covers, pulling you to his chest. you could feel the long night weigh your body down. “are you actually okay?”

your hand lays on his chest, fingers brushing his bruises.

“just tired.” he sighs, pulling you closer, an ease consuming his body the closer you pressed yourself to him. the comfort your touch brought was unlike anything. the memories of his past no longer a feeling of constant grief and sorrow.

you leaned closer, burying your face in his neck snuggling close. your lips meeting his warm skin as he sighs, arm wrapped around you.

“I’m scared megumi is gonna hate me,” you softly whisper. no clue why you were ruining this moment, but your anxiety was still creeping back in.

his eyes are closed as he answers. “because we fucked?”

“because i fucked his dad.”

“does he have a crush on you?”

“no!” toji laughs, turning his head to look at you.

“i said it’ll be okay.” his arm pulls you close, leaning his forehead to yours. your body growing warm. “do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“then go to sleep.”

and you do.

little did you know poor megumi was a little more sober than the rest and when he couldn’t find his phone in the middle of the night, he decided to go up and fetch his dad’s phone. was it because he was tired that he wasn’t picking up on the slight gasps and cries until he slid the door just an inch all for him to witness the millisecond of his dad’s bare ass drilling— SLAM

megumi was frozen. the door immediately shut. he didn’t want to decipher what he’d witnessed but why did your voice have to be so recognizable! Sadly the poor boy had to run away with hands covering his ears, only to run into a shocked nobara standing by the stairs.

“Is that y/n!!?” megumi ran covering the the girl’s mouth.

“shhhhh!”

in other words it wasn’t a big shock when you were all having breakfast and yuuji decides to speak.

“so are you like megumi’s mom now or?”

you choke on your cereal as megumi coughs violently. toji was still upstairs. your face was on fire. you couldn’t lift your head.

“look what you did, idiot!” nobara elbows yuuji hard. then your bottom lip shook, and worse a tear slipped. they all froze completely. you don’t cry easily. you don’t!

“please don’t hate me, m-megumi…” your eyes filled with more tears. you really are an idiot, you knew what would happen if you ever crossed that line. but…toji was different. your heart ached without him, and it swelled whenever he looked your way. when you were upset you wanted to see him, when you were anxious you wanted him to rest his hand on your head. when you didn’t want to talk, you wanted to hear him talk….he was different. but he’s also…

“your dad.” you swallow your tears, sucking it up. but when you decided to lift your head, megumi’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing you tight.

“it’s fine.”

your mouth was dry, eyes wide, but you buried your face in his shoulder as he hugged you—which he never does—and calmed you down.

“you’re not mad?” you wipe your face as he pulls away.

megumi lets out a heavy sigh. “i knew this would happen.” everyone raises a brow. “all he does is ask about you, what’s y/n doing? where is she? did she finish her work? is she coming today? on and on and on—“ megumi groans. “at least now I don’t have to be a middle man.”

your cheeks stung. nobara couldn’t help but giggle, she’s never seen you so flustered. kyoi sure as hell never made you feel like that.

“what else has he said?” you bite your cheek.

“he told me he likes sparring you!” yuuji chimes in. your cheeks run red, remembering what he told you last night.

it did take some getting used to. toji randomly coming over and wrapping an arm around your shoulder was fine, but when he’d lean down and kiss you deep, megumi couldn’t help his gagging. do that was a no. but other than the slight pda (on toji’s part) it was all the same. except for something only megumi noticed, which was how much happier his dad looked.

he couldn’t explain how oddly perfect the relationship was. you fit him perfectly and him to you. so megumi bared his teeth at the awkwardness, and went about his weird life.

ALL EYES ON RAFAH!!

ALL EYES ON RAFAH!!!

I’m attaching some informational links and will also add some donation links!!

STAY INFORMED! STAY ACTIVE! This is not a war, this is a GENOCIDE!

info: link // link // link // link // link // link

donate: important // important // important

it doesn’t matter if it’s $5 or $20!!

My Number One Priority | Kokushibo

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warnings ✩° : 18+ NSFW, cursing, brat taming!receiving, rough sex, p in v, fucking against a wall, built up tension, consumption of alcohol (but non-intoxicated sex), not established relationship, consensual sex, size difference, open area fucking, dirty talk, dacryphilia.

pairing ✩° : bodyguard!kokushibo x fem!reader, au not specified maybe modern idk…

premise ✩° : as your personal body guard, kokushibo is tasked with looking after everything you do to ensure your safety. you typically don’t take kindly to his overbearing nature, seeing as he’s just someone your dad hired, but kokushibo wants to change your mind about this whole protection thing to show you it’s really not all that bad.

word count ✩° : 5.7k

authors note ✩° : so. i’m back. with this. lol!

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Burning for You

Pairing: Kyojuro x f!reader

Summary: The demon you and the flame hashira slay together releases its blood demon art upon death. Inhaling the red smoke makes both you and Kyojuro insatiable for each other, but neither of you are willing to risk your friendship to satisfy your burning desires. Not without a fight, anyway.

Content guidance: NSFW. Kind of sex pollen trope but non-lethal and both reader and Kyojuro are in full control of themselves, just really REALLY horny for each other. Masturbation. Frantic, noisy, sloppy, desperate sex. Oral sex (reader receiving) Approx 4.8k words

Several emotions blossomed in Kyojuro’s chest as you cut through the demon's neck, ending the battle. Relief that the fight was over and you were unscathed. Pride that you, his dear friend, had been the one to land the killing blow. Envy that your footing had seemed so effortlessly perfect during the final strike. And concern at the strange red cloud forming around you both as the demon withered to ash.

“Don’t breathe it in,” he said, but it was too late. He could taste the strange flavor at the back of his mouth– slightly spicy, almost like ginger.

Your nose scrunched as you grimaced, clearly tasting it too. “Is this its blood demon art?” 

“Possibly. It's not unheard of for a demon to unleash a last-ditch attack upon death.” He covered his mouth and nose with the edge of his flaming haori to minimize the amount he inhaled. “Come, we shouldn't hang about.”

The flame hashira walked at your side as you headed out of the grove and back toward your camp where a small group of lower-ranked slayers and kakushi waited. The heat at the back of his throat lingered. With every step it grew a little more intense, spreading to the back of his neck, then up to his cheeks and down to his chest. Eventually, even his total concentration breathing constant failed him as he struggled to fill his lungs. A glance over at you told him you fared no better. Your cheeks were flushed, your skin shimmering with sweat.

“Stop,” he said, his concern evident in his tone. “Let me take a look at you.”

You did as he asked as he cupped your face between his hands, your cheeks burning against the tough skin of his palms. Your pupils were dilated as you gazed back at him, your breaths shallow and unsatisfying. It was clear you had both been poisoned somehow.

“Kyojuro…” You didn’t just speak his name, you moaned it, snapping him from his thoughts.

His lips were an inch from yours, the warmth of your breath gently wafting against his skin, and your bodies were tightly pressed together.

Oh.

“Oh!” He darted back, horrified at his actions. What on earth was he thinking? A deep, unfamiliar ache gathered in the pit of his belly.  “My friend! Please forgive me. I– Goodness, I–I don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry!” 

“No, no… there’s nothing to forgive. I think I moved in toward you too.” You swept your arm across your glistening brow and shook your head. “Kyojuro… I think the demon’s blood demon art may have been a… uh… an aphrodisiac.”

His eyes widened. You were right, there was no doubt about it. Though he didn’t have much– any experience with intimacy, he knew what it felt like when he was aroused. And this was like that tenfold. His cock twitched needily as your eyes met his. He wanted you. He wanted you so badly, every inch of his body ached with desire.

The knowledge that you were feeling it too was almost enough to bring him off by itself. 

“We just need to ride it out–ah! I mean endure it,” he said, his voice growing louder as panic set in. “I’m sure it’s only a temporary effect.”

"Why would a demon even have that power?"

"I imagine it's pretty useful for luring people to the de..." His words trailed off. He tried not to notice the way your breasts heaved as you tried to draw breath, or the way the buttons of your corps uniform strained to contain them. His lips parted around a gasp as a trickle of pre-cum dribbled along the underside of his erection and his cheeks grew hotter still. If he didn’t fuck you right this instant he was going to go mad. 

But he wouldn’t. No, your friendship meant far too much to him, and with you also coerced by the poison like this he wouldn’t feel right about it. It was his duty to protect you, and that included from himself and his urges.

“We should head back to camp and try to sleep it off,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “I’m sure we’ll be back to ourselves in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pursed your lips and pushed out a breath, causing his dick to throb.

Gods, this was going to be hell.

There was no sleep to be had. 

Even though you were on opposite sides of the campfire, he couldn’t stop imagining the weight of you on top of him, riding his cock until you both saw sparks. You always slept with your breasts unbound beneath your shirt. Even before the poison, and even though he'd always tried not to notice, they always looked so soft. Without even looking over at you he could imagine their shape.

Gods, the thought that you were suffering just as he was made his cock weep; knowing that your pussy was dripping wet, that your fingers might have been stroking your slippery, swollen clit at that very moment as you thought of him…

Kyojuro lay on his back, unable to keep his fingers from exploring the trail of wiry honey-toned curls which lead to his cock. Perhaps that was all he needed– to fuck his palm and quell his raging arousal. 

But it wasn’t right. Not with the other slayers, the kakushi, and especially you so close by. Still, he had to do something. 

He got up and made his way out of the camp and toward the woods, muttering something to the kakushi on guard about wanting to patrol the area. 

The kakushi’s eyes widened above their face covering. “Alone? Lord Rengoku, would you like me to wake the others and have them accompany you?”

“No.” Kyojuro shook his head and continued walking, his hand curled into a fist at his side as he fought the urge to begin stroking himself there and then. “I won’t be long.”

Kyojuro stood facing the thick trunk of a tree, bracing his weight on his forearm while he fucked his hand for the third time that night. 

He buried his face against the crook of his elbow, groaning as he set a frantic pace. The sheer amount of fluid drooling from his tip lubricated his fist as he pumped it back and forth. His balls were heavy and desperate for release, his breaths shuttering. He moaned your name into the night; legs trembling, abdominal muscles quivering. His blond and red hair was limp with sweat as he sought an end to the torment. 

“Come on,” he hissed through his clenched teeth. There had to be an end to it. He simply couldn’t cum forever. And yet, as his climax tore through him and his legs buckled beneath him, sending him collapsing onto one knee, he found he could not stop tugging his cock.

“Oh– oh … gods…” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled back his foreskin and circled the slippery head with his calloused thumb. He still needed more but he couldn’t go on. There would be nothing left of him if he gave into the demands of his arousal. Three orgasms would have to do until the blood demon art wore off.

Tears of frustration pooled in his amber and crimson eyes as he tucked his throbbing erection back into his pants, positioning his waistband over the head of it so he could at least keep it concealed from the kakushi upon his return to camp. He was about half way back when he felt your presence. 

It began as a shiver throughout his body, followed by a deeper ache than he’d ever known. Despite his difficulty hearing, your voice still carried to him, breathless and desperate as you sighed his name.

He knew what you were doing; he knew it was obscene of him to look, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from imagining the sight of you, lay back on the forest floor, fucking yourself with your fingers with your legs spread wide. 

“Kyo…juro…” you gasped.

Oh it was wrong. It was so very wrong. He had seconds to turn around and yank down his trousers, freeing his cock before it spurted onto the forest floor completely untouched. He stifled his groans against his palm, panting helplessly as his body thrummed with pleasure.

Shame scalded his cheeks. He’d always prided himself on being respectable and trustworthy, and yet there he was, cumming at the mere sound of you fucking yourself to thoughts of him. And even as his cock stopped leaking, he still felt that desperate tug of arousal, as if only your cunt could satisfy his needs.

Gods, the thought of sinking into you… warm and wet—

No. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t even think about it anymore. You were his friend. 

Shoving his cock back into his trousers he set his composure and took control of his breathing once more. He wasn't some animal unable to control his instincts, he was a hashira, and he’d trained for years to have total command of his body.

The night filled with sounds of your pleasure as you reached your frantic peak, and his cock throbbed with that never-ending desire for you.

He had to get away from you before he drove himself mad. But he couldn’t. That was the problem. You were his companion, traveling at his side for at least the next few days.

He could only hope that the blood demon art wore off soon. 

The next day was much the same. With the demon dead you traveled alongside Kyojuro and the rest of your party back toward HQ, a journey which would take almost a week to complete. The flame hashira was unusually quiet, his cheeks flushed as pink as yours and his normally wide and lively eyes heavy-lidded with fatigue and arousal.

You weren’t any better off. Ever since you had killed the demon your pussy had been drenched. Just the sight of Kyojuro was enough to make it throb and clench helplessly around nothing, desperate for his cock. 

And it was everything about Kyojuro: the size and strength of his hands, the sound of his voice, the curve of his hips, the fullness of his chest, and the sturdiness of his thighs. And his nose. Gods, the obscene thoughts you’d had about his nose; you could practically feel him nuzzling your pussy, breathing in your scent, nudging your clit teasingly. 

Fingering yourself had done nothing. Deep down you knew it had to be Kyojuro. None of the others traveling with you did anything at all for you–it was as though the stuff you had both breathed in was calling to itself, drawing you together and driving you out of your senses.

By nightfall you were exhausted down to the marrow and your need still hadn’t dwindled. You understood why but it didn’t hurt any less that Kyojuro would no longer make eye-contact with you. 

Another day passed in exactly the same fashion. Then another. Even when you managed to fall asleep you dreamed of fucking him, his breath hot and heavy against you as he thrust his cock deep inside. And you always woke up with your fingers strumming your clit, your eyes drawn to the switching shape of Kyojuro on the other side of the camp, his soft moans making your toes curl as you desperately got yourself off.

The next night you found a house with a wisteria crest on its doors; a safe-house for members of the demon slayer corps where you could rest in a warm bed and clean yourselves off. Relief filled you as you slipped into the onsen and washed away the grime of your travels. But even the caress of the water was more than you could bear. Slipping into the dry, clean yukata afterward was torture. 

And cruelest of all, was running straight into Kyojuro in the hallway, the collision of your bodies sending showers of sparks rushing through your veins. He was dressed similarly in a pale blue yukata, droplets of water beading down the exposed V of his chest as he made his way back to his room after bathing.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, his cheeks glowing scarlet as he tried to dart around you.

“Kyojuro!” You blurted his name, rendering him still. His distance the past few days was far more painful than the constant ache between your thighs. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” you said as you stood back-to-back with him. “You’re still my dear friend. We’ll get through this.”

You almost mistook his sharp exhale as a sob. “Even speaking to you is agony… your voice, it makes me feel–”

“Yours does to me too. I’ve tried–well, I’ve tried everything I can think of to get rid of it.”

“As have I.” He turned his head slightly toward you but thought better of it and looked away again. “Nothing helps. It’s as if…” He paused and his shoulders slumped. “No, forget it. We’ll get through this. In a couple of days we’ll reach the Butterfly Mansion and Lady Kocho can run tests to find out how to reverse the blood demon art. And I’m certain it will fade eventually.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

He did turn then, his eyes momentarily wide with panic. “Then… then we’ll have to stop traveling together. We’ll have to be separated. Perhaps we can write to each other and still remain friends that way. Or… or perhaps–”

“No, no I don't want that!” you said, desperation evident in your voice. “Kyojuro, I don’t want to lose you.”

His expression softened, and though he was exhausted, frustrated, and afraid, he smiled. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re important to me.”

“Then…” Your heart thrummed as your courage wavered. “Would it be so terrible if we… gave in?”

His lips parted around a heavy inhale. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”

Gods, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You were close to tears as your aching core fluttered at the sight of him. “Kyojuro… please. Please fuck me.”

A soft groan escaped him at your words. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. I’ll go mad if you don’t.”

Conflict raged behind his eyes as he pressed his lips together, his chest heaving as his breaths grew heavier. He swallowed hard. “Forgive me.”

A moment later his lips were on yours, claiming you with a kiss so ferocious it emptied your lungs and tilted the world around you. There was nothing beyond Kyojuro; his lips, his tongue, and teeth as he pressed you against his body with an iron-grip, and hoisted you up to wrap your legs around him. 

You were vaguely aware that he was carrying you as you tilted your hips against his, letting the friction of his yukata press against your pussy. You heard the sigh of a shoji door sliding open then closed again, and felt the cool press of a soft futon against your back. Running your fingers across his scalp, you felt him shiver against you.

A moment later he was kissing his way down your chest, grazing your skin with his teeth as a growl emerged from deep within him.

He pulled apart your yukata, groaning as he cupped your breasts, kneading them with his broad, rough hands as his kisses trailed lower. “Tell me if it doesn’t feel good,” he gasped against your navel, inching his way down, until the wet heat of his mouth surrounded your clit. 

“Fffuck,” you hissed, hips lifting off the futon as he devoured you, his tongue slippery and hot against your swollen bud. 

Kyojuro looked so pretty as he licked your pussy, his honeyed eyes half-lidded, drunk on the taste of you. As if he'd heard your secret desires, he nuzzled the tip of his nose against you, teasing your pussy and inhaling deeply as a groan rumbled from his chest. 

“Gods, don’t stop,” you gasped. “Please…”

Another growl escaped him as he feasted on you again, his hunger and desperation to please you far outweighing his inexperience. He ate your pussy like a man starved, hooking his arms around your thighs and dragging you toward him. He damn near lifted your ass completely from the futon as he licked and licked, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body. You cried out, helpless, lost in pleasure. In that moment you were his entirely. 

But it wasn’t enough for him. Pushing his hands against the backs of your thighs, Kyojuro pinned your legs up with your knees against your stomach, exposing you to him as his tongue flickered against your clit like a growing flame. He moaned against your pussy as he fucked you with his tongue. 

All you could do was lie there and take it, fingers buried in his hair, your core tensing, throbbing, tightening and still so desperate for his cock. Gods, if you didn’t cum soon you’d lose your mind. You reached down, fingertips brushing the slick skin above your clit, pressing down and drawing back your clitoral hood so he could kiss that throbbing bud deeper, harder and faster. He damn near pounced upon it, sucking and licking as though it was the most delectable thing in the world. 

“Kyo…juro~”

You pulled in a breath and held it as your muscles clenched, a coil deep within you winding tighter and tighter until your orgasm rocked though you. You came hard, head thrown back against the futon, lips parted around a silent cry, thighs trembling as he fervently lapped at your essence.

“You taste… incredible…” he panted against your cunt, bestowing an open-mouthed kiss on your entrance before repositioning himself onto his knees to shrug off his yukata entirely. Even with the fever of arousal coursing through him he paused to check in with you. “Do you still want it, or did that satisfy your urges?”

Your body pulsed with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but your relief soon faded, leaving you desperate for him once more. The sight of him naked only provoked the primal need. He was strong and broad, his body blessed with both strength and softness, carved by a life of fighting hard and eating heartily. There was just so much of him. All of him. His cock was engorged and veiny, his balls heavy and full. 

“Fuck me,” you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down toward you. 

He pinned you to the futon with his hips, groaning as his cock teased the entrance of your pussy. “I won’t cum inside. I’ll… Gods, you’re so wet.” You kissed him as he pressed the tip of his cock into you, teeth grazing the tender plump pillow of his lower lip and making him cry out. “Ohh fuck.”

The relief surging through you almost brought tears to your eyes as he slid into you, deeper and deeper, filling you, stretching the walls of your cunt around his cock. Nothing he could say could express his pleasure more than the rapture in his eyes as he bottomed out inside you.

“How—” He bowed his head, as he fought for composure. “How can anything feel… so… good?”

“Because we need to be together.”

He nodded, “I don’t know if I can hold back.”

“Then don’t. I can take it.”

His control slipped in an instant. Kyojuro fucked you hard and fast, hips slapping against yours. He grunted and growled, the gentleman in him giving way to the feral beast the blood demon art had created—or released. Every thrust sent throbbing pleasure shooting through your body as he slammed into you, releasing days of pent up tension. 

“Oh gods, you feel… like… nghh…heaven…” he gasped, his practically glowing.

The rhythm of his hips stuttered as he fucked you harder and faster, every untamed thrust punctuated by a sharp grunt. Calloused fingers strummed your clit as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, allowing him deeper. Your fingernails dug into his forearm as he drove you mercilessly to your next orgasm, your pussy squeezing and milking his cock. Your body was alight, pleasure firing through every nerve as he continued to pound your quivering pussy, the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh accompanying his wanton, feral moans.

“Oh gods, oh godsohgods, I’m… there…” His back arched, hips jutting toward you as he pulled out and spurted cum across your belly. “Forgive me, I’m sorry,” he groaned, as his body shook and flushed pink with pleasure. “You felt so good. So good.”

He collapsed onto you, the tufts of his hair tickling your chest as he fought for his breath. And you held him, stroking your hand down his back, relieved by the lull in your desire, your body, mind, and heart satisfied for the first time in days.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I am.” He opened his eyes and tilted his head to face you. “I'm sorry it was quick, I haven't ever… I feel… I’m mostly satisfied. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled and kissed the top of his head. His body was hot and firm against yours, his weight comforting as he pressed you into the futon. “It’s mostly eased for me too.”

The pair of you fell silent, the only sounds in the room were your breaths and the distant chatter of the kakushi and slayers on the other side of the house.

"We're still friends, yes?" he murmured.

"Of course."

"Good."

Running your fingers up and down Kyojuro's back, you felt the muscles twitch beneath your touch as his breath shivered against your skin. He groaned softly and a tingle spread between your thighs.

After a while he sighed. "There's still a lingering need."

"Yeah. I feel it too."

He raised his head to look at you, the tufts of his fiery hair disheveled and wild. “Perhaps… if we do it again it’ll go away fully.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation as you nodded. Gods, there was no denying it, you still wanted him; the thought of fucking him again was more tempting than anything you’d known. 

And you couldn't hold back. 

Neither could he. 

Your lips collided with his once more as you pulled each other into another claiming kiss, though this time slower, deeper, his tongue exploring the shape of your mouth as his hands caressed the curves of your body. He groaned as you sucked his bottom lip and followed your lead, letting your roll him onto his back as you straddled his hips to ride him, still kissing him.

He gasped as you took control, wrapping your fist around his cock, easing him into you inch by inch even though you were more than prepared for him. The way his lips parted around a silent cry, the way his brow stitched together in concentration and pleasure as he fought the urge to thrust eagerly into you, were just too delicious to rush.

He stared, fascinated as his cock disappeared into you, his fingers gingerly touching the seam where you joined. 

There were just so many beautiful things about Kyojuro; the way his abdominal muscles twitched when he was turned on, the sound of his moans even when he tried to be quiet, the heat of his gaze as he watched you through half-closed, vivid golden eyes, the way his fiery hair spread across the pillow like the sun's rays.

Even if it was the demon's spell, you wondered how you had never seen it all before, how after years fighting by his side, only then did you see him in a new light.

Kyojuro was beautiful, and fucking him was beautiful too.

This time the pace was slower, more languid, the pair of you savoring the overwhelming sensation of togetherness. His fingers laced with yours as you undulated your hips.

“Perfect,” he sighed against your lips. “You feel incredible.”

Without that all-consuming desperation, you took the time to explore his body and his pleasure, trailing kisses down his neck. Your stomach fluttered as he tilted back his head to give you more access. His groans filled the room with every kiss and caress; oh, but when your lips reached his chest, when you lapped at the puckered bud of his nipple, he sucked in a breath, the flush on his cheeks rising. 

"Do that again," he gasped. "Please."

You sucked his nipples until they were stiff and dark, spurred on by his whimpers and the hand threading though your hair. His grip on your hand tightened as you teased his chest until he couldn't bear it anymore, his restraint faltered and he had to thrust up into you.

You rolled over together until he was back on top, pinning you down and pounding into you once more as you squeezed your thighs around his hips.

"S-so warm," he groaned, "tight…"

He lay his body flush against yours; the intimacy of his warm skin against yours far more potent than anything you had known before. 

In this position his body rubbed against yours just right, your clit stimulated by the friction of his pubic hair and the delicious press of his hips to yours. Your third orgasm was more intense than the first, your cunt throbbing around his cock as pleasure tore through you with its claws drawn, ravaging every part of you.  

He groaned. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my… oh…'M gonna cu– I'm cl-oh-hose!"

He pulled out, painting your inner thighs with his seed; shaking, groaning, biting his lip, before he collapsed against you, panting heavily and laughing in relief.

Afterward you lay together, tracing the outline of his bicep with your fingertips as he sighed against your hair. 

"How do you feel now?" He asked. "Has it stopped for you?"

You gazed into his eyes and still felt that pull. "No. Not completely."

"It hasn't for me either," he said, pulling you close. "I suppose we'll have to keep at it."

Three days later, Lady Kocho smiled as she studied the sample of Kyojuro’s blood beneath her microscope. “I see.”

“It has been a hard–difficult thing to deal with as I’m sure you can appreciate,” Kyojuro said, standing with his arms folded across his chest. “And though the initial–uh– fever seems to be over, the desire is still lingering. I suspect the blood demon art is still running rampant through our systems.”

Kocho chuckled. “My my…”

You simply waited for her diagnosis, perched on the bed with your heartbeat thrumming as you struggled to keep your eyes off the flame hashira. He was right. That initial, feral rut had taken the painful edge off your desire, but your hunger for each other was still simmering beneath the surface. Since that first night, not seventy-two hours ago, you’d found yourself sneaking off with Kyojuro no less than seventeen times to satisfy your needs. Thank goodness for his hashira stamina. 

Even as he simply stood there you desired him. Innocent things like the comforting arc of his smile, the warmth of his eyes, the sight of his muscle-corded forearm as he'd rolled up his sleeve to allow the insect hashira to draw his blood, all turned you on. 

Swapping out the slides, Lady Kocho put her fingertips to her lips, concealing a quiet laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry to you both.”

“Why?” Kyojuro asked, his eyes wide and sincere. “Is it permanent?”

“There are no traces whatsoever of a blood demon art in either samples. I’m afraid it likely wore off the first time you…released the tension.” She smiled and sat back, resting her hands on her lap. “It seems likely you’re now suffering from simple attraction to each other, that’s all.”

Your eyes darted between the two hashira as your mind raced. You weren't under a spell at all… you were simply… into Kyojuro.

"Oh… really?" Kyojuro frowned, his gaze distant. "No traces whatsoever?"

"None." Kocho stood from her desk and bade the two of you goodbye, leaving you alone in the room with Kyojuro. 

"Well," he said at last. "I feel a little foolish."

"No, no, you shouldn't," you said, offering him a comforting smile even if you felt the same way. "I suppose we're just… more than friends now?"

He hummed softly, thinking about it for a moment before he burst into laughter. "Yes, I suppose we are." When his laughter died down he smiled and approached the bed. "It's honestly a relief, knowing now that I'm simply bewitched by you." 

Just like him, your pupils were dilated, your breaths shallow and unsatisfying. Even without the blood demon art, it was quite the spell you were both under. 

"I know what you mean," you said as you pulled him down onto you to take full advantage of the comfortable infirmary bed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this story, please don't forget to reblog- it really helps writers when you share their work.

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is this too much to ask for

“I resisted, Elspeth, because I was already imagining how I might press my finger against your wet lips again, like I had in my room.” He took in a breath, his mouth dropping to my ear. “And that was nothing to the wicked things I was imagining after we argued in the garden.”

— Ravyn Yew, One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig

We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂

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I too, would like to be hunted down throughout the galaxy by Darth Vader, and have him rip towns apart for me.

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