#BE FLOOFY WITH ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

revasserium · 6 months ago

Text

know, know better

suo hayato; 3,591 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", banter, so much flirting, mentions of bodily harm (its wind breaker lol), first!kisses, semi-whipped!suo, suo will break the world for the one he loves likes, suo is a jackass gentleman exhibit 329048293

summary: the only difference between a garden and a graveyard is what you decide to put in the ground

a/n: yes, i know i've used that metaphor before in another fic for another fandom. no, i do not care. yes, i will continue to reuse this metaphor bc i love it.

001.

He sees you for the first time on the roof, and for a second, he wonders if he’s hallucinating because — well, no one else wears dresses at Fuurin other than Tsubaki-chan and he’s certain he just saw them downstairs, arm slung through Umemiya’s, squealing about a new line of glittery eyeshadows that just launched over the weekend.

“Ah — excuse me!”

“I know, I know — but I couldn’t just let the poor cherry tomatoes suffer like this! Go tell Ume-nii that he’s been neglecting — oh!”

By the time you look up, Suo is already bending over your shoulder to peer politely down into the garden trough, his single eye wide and bright and curious.

“Uwah… you seem really good at this!”

You lick your lips, tasting salt, feeling an unfamiliar heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Uhm… yeah — well —” your clear your throat and turn back towards the cherry tomato plants, reaching out with a gloved hand to flick one of the budding green tomatoes, “these lil guys need a lot of sunlight and Ume-nii let them in a patch of shade, so I couldn’t just leave them there, yknow?”

You smile as you get to your feet, Suo backing up politely, his hands tucked behind his back, his eye following the graceful lilt of your movements, the lithe, slenderness of your arms and legs. He can’t help the way his gaze catches on the hem of your skirt, the way it brushes the creamy skin of your leg just above your knees.

He forces himself to look away.

“You… must be one of the new first-years, right? I heard Kotoha-chan talking about you guys!”

Your voice is clear as a bell-chime, and almost as sweet, but its your eyes he can’t stop himself from coming back to. Irises purled with gold, limned by dark lashes that cast shadows against the round of your cheeks. He feels something inside him stutter as he tries to focus back on the way you’re reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how the other errant strands frame your face so perfectly that he has to fight down the urge to reach out and tug the slip of hair back down.

“… your name?”

“Hm?” Suo smiles before he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something, “Ah — apologies — how rude of me. Suo Hayato, it’s a pleasure.”

He dips his head in greeting as you extend a hand.

“Pleasure, huh?” you giggle as he takes your hand in his and shakes. Your skin is warm and soft, and Suo finds — for the first time in a long while — that he doesn’t really want to let go.

002.

He sees you the second time at Cafe Pothos, laughing behind the counter with Kotoha. He pauses in the doorway and lets the sound wash over him, even as you both look over at the sound of the doorbell.

“Oh! It’s you!” your smile sets his world spinning off on it’s axis and it’s all he can do to keep it from showing. Beside him, Sakura frowns.

“You know each other?”

Suo grins, stepping over the threshold to slip into one of the bar chairs.

“Yep! We met on the school roof the other day!”

“School roof — wait, I thought there weren’t any girls in Fuurin — unless —” Sakura cuts off as he whips back towards you, his eyes wide as he looks you over once, twice — before Kotoha rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

“Oi! Quit ogling my friend — and no, there aren’t any girls in Fuurin, but we do have a delivery service for the VIP clients.” Kotoha winks as Sakura’s cheeks go pink. Suo props his chin on the heel of his hand and offers you a bright smile; your mirrored smile back makes his chest squeeze.

“So… how’re the cherry tomatoes doing?” you ask, reaching out to set a traditional tea service in front of Suo, your fingers light as they pluck a tiny porcelain cup from a shelf to place it on a small, bamboo tray.

“They’re getting really ripe! I’ve been checking on them like you asked…” Suo’s voice trails off as you go about the work of putting loose leaf tea in a tea bowl and warming it before pouring out the first wash of liquid.

“How… did you know I’d like this kind of tea?”

You grin, shrugging, “I just… had a feeling.”

“It’s her superpower,” Kotoha leans over with a sly smile, “she can usually guess a person’s favorite kind of food and drink within… about five minutes of getting to know them!”

“Oh stop it — it’s nothing like that! I just… had a hunch is all.” You glance up to catch Suo staring, his gaze so intense you almost fumble the teapot in your hands. It clinks against the empty cup, but before the cup has a chance to tumble off the table, Suo reaches out with a deft hand to catch it, placing it smoothly back onto the tea tray.

There’s a faint stutter in the fluidity of your movements as you blink at the cup now sitting innocently, perfectly centered, on the tray. And then you’re reaching out to fill the cup with a steaming, golden liquid, fragrant enough to fill half the room. Even Sakura leans over with a curious sniff.

“Whoa. Smells good,” he says, “smells like…”

Suo smiles, reaching down to trace a finger along the razor-thin rim of the tiny glass, “Smells like flowers.”

003.

You are young in all the ways that teenage girls can be young, and old in the all the ways that people have to be in Makochi. Your ribs hurt, your lip’s split, and there’s an ache settling over your right eye that tells you there’s probably an incredible bruise blooming into existence there.

“Ouch… damnit… I’ve really… done it this time…” you groan as you try to push yourself up off the dark alley wall. You wiggle each of your fingers in turn and say a silent prayer when you find that they all respond. Good, you think, so nothing’s broken. **

Not yet, at least.

Footsteps to your right. Light, but hurried. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the worst but instead — there’s only warmth, and a soft palm cupping the curve of your face.

“Hey… it’s okay — you’re alright.”

“S-Suo…kun?”

“That’s right — it’s me —” a soft, exasperated sigh, “we were looking for you afternoon —” arms wrapping around you, lifting you up. You hear the soft rustle of bags and groan as you try to reach out but a firm hand stops you.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds just as measured as he usually is. But pressed up against his chest like this, you can feel the wild, racehorse hoofbeats of his heart, feel the shakiness in his every breath. His fingers are tight as he cradles you to him, carrying you from the alleyway.

“I wanted… yokan…” your voice is hoarse, and a bit ragged. Suo casts his eyes up toward the sunset sky and counts down from ten.

When he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he says —

“Eh? But the Minami tea store always sells really good yokan — why’d you… ah… you wanted to get the famous mizu yokan from across the tracks, didn’t you?” Suo sighs, gently adjusting his hold around your body, pressing you ever closer to his chest. Your breathing is shallow but even; like this, he can almost hear the faint fluttering of your heart deep inside your chest, see the soft quiver of your lashes as you shift in his arms.

“Silly girl,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips into the seam of your hair, “next time, just tell me and I’ll go with you.”

He can sense your consciousness fading, and though the logical part of him knows that you’re in no immediate danger, he still hastens his steps, his stomach twisting inside him like a wrung-out towel, dry and aching.

“But…” he leans in; your voice is barely a whisper. He almost jumps as you reach up to trace a finger along his eyepatch, “Then it wouldn’t have been… a surprise.”

004.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Suo blinks for a second before his expression breaks into a bright smile. He’d had an inkling, after the “yokan-incident”, that this might’ve been the reason. But still, it twists something deep inside his gut to know that you’d gotten so hurt because of — well — something to do with him.

Even unsolicited. Even then. He detests the thought of it.

Nearly the entire first year class is there, and a good few students from the second and third years, crammed into Cafe Pothos. There’s a full traditional tea service set out on the tables, pieced together into the center of the room, and an array of tea snacks enough to make even the most ascetic eaters take pause.

“Suo-kun! C’mon, you shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, right?” Kotoha waves him towards the center table, where a multicolored display of mochis are placed in a barely legible “Happy Birthday”, each with a matching colored candle shoved into the middle.

“Sakura-kun did the mochis!” Nirei offers, pointing, seconds before Sakura smacks him upside the head.

“You don’t have’ta single it out!”

Suo takes his time, moving from person to person, chatting and laughing and thanking them in turn. There’s a softness pulsing inside him, something warm and growing, purring, curling up with a creamy, spine-deep contentment. Until he gets to you, busy wowing a group of first-year boys with your kung-fu tea skills, pouring the steaming water from higher and higher, never spilling a single drop.

“— the water can’t be too hot, or else the tea will get burnt — and that’s why sometimes —”

“Sometimes, when you make tea at home, it tastes awful and bitter, right?” Suo sits down, smiling even as he purposefully encroaches on the personal space of the freshman closest to you. To his credit, the freshman boy laughs, inching back as Suo props his chin on his palm and turns to look at them.

“A-ah… that’s really uh — cool! Wow — those shortcakes over there look really good — guys, let’s go grab some before they’re all gone!”

They scurry off, dipping their heads in your direction before ducking away.

“Mm… you’re lucky its your birthday,” you say, placing a warmed cup of tea in front of him, reaching over to slide over a glistening piece of mizu-yokan.

“Hm?” Suo takes a sip of the tea, savoring it’s depth of flavor, before taking a bite of the tea-snack.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice to someone who’s driving off all my best customers,” you say, flashing him a knowing, indulgent smile. Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“Your best customers?” he makes a show of pivoting towards where the clueless freshmen boys had run off to, now crowded around Sakura, laughing all too loudly, “if I didn’t know better… I’d say you need to raise your standards.”

You cock your head, hands pausing over a fresh pour of tea.

“But you do, don’t you?” you ask, resuming your movements. A second later, you place a fresh cup of tea in front of him.

“Don’t I… what?” he asks, playing at innocence.

“You should,” you parry, propping open the lid of the tiny teapot with two fingers, bending down to take a deep breath of the fragrant leaves.

The lid snaps back onto the pot with a solid click.

Suo blows at the surface of his teacup, pausing at the sound. He looks up to meet your knife-sharp gaze.

“Know — better.”

A shiver kisses up the length of his spine, and he nearly drops the fresh cup of tea. He clears his throat and takes a long sip. The heat drips down his throat, unfurling in his stomach, setting his whole body ablaze with the kind of fire that refuses to go out.

“Mm… this tea is delicious! Where’s it from?”

You shake your head, the motion just on the other side of innocent. But as you said — he knows better now.

“Somewhere… over the rainbow, I suppose.”

In a flicker, faster than a flash, he reaches out, fingers skimming along a thin line marring the perfect skin of your left cheek.

“This wasn’t there two days ago,” he says, almost casually, before his voice drops in register and his eyes go dark beneath his curtain of too-long lashes, “where’s it from?”

You make you shake off his hand but he’s too quick, catching your chin between two fingers.

“Don’t know. Must’ve been an accident.”

Suo tugs you towards him, his grip now bordering on too tight, “Ah… pretty girls like you shouldn’t make a habit of lying so much.”

You lick your lips, breath caught in your chest as you tug your face from his grasp, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.

“And pretty boys like you should really know better than to ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to.”

“And if I don’t?” Suo’s voice is sweet and soft and low. He sets down his empty teacup; you reach out to refill it.

“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

He catches your wrist, pulling up your sleeve before you can protest to reveal a series of dark bruises scattered up the length of your arm. The air around him seems to condense and cool as he stares for a second before his expression fixes itself back into one of detached sweetness.

“Know — better,” he answers, simply, letting his hand fall as you snatch your arm back, massaging the place where his fingers had been.

You narrow your eyes, but before you can say anything else, a group of boys all stumble over, singing loudly as they pull Suo back towards the center of the room, where yet another cake has materialized out of god knows where. He laughs, clapping along, blowing out the candles on instruction.

But for the rest of the night, you can’t help feeling the weight of his eyes on you, though you never again catch him staring.

005.

“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

You jump, jerking upright even as Suo approaches you on the rooftop garden, hands laced behind his back, his earrings fluttering in the light breeze.

“Y-yeah. They really are.” You turn back to your cherry tomato plants, a few of them ripe to bursting. You reach out to pluck one off a vine, turning to offer it to the boy crouching down next to you.

He takes it from you, examining it for a second before popping into his mouth.

“Mm… sweet!”

You laugh, reaching out to tug another one off the vine. You bite into the soft flesh, feeling the explosion of flavor on your tongue.

“So much better than the ones from the supermarket, right?”

Suo sighs, nodding, but his expression sobers a second later.

“You shouldn’t have done that — just for my birthday.”

You pause, hands halfway towards another tomato. Suo reaches out to pluck it for you. As he presses it into your hand, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I didn’t do it just for you.”

“Oh?”

You roll the bright red fruit between your thumb and forefingers, holding it up to the light.

“Do you know what the difference is between a garden and a graveyard?” you ask, dropping your hand back down, your eyes trained on the plump little tomato now sitting in the palm of your hand.

“Tell me,” Suo says, watching you intently.

You turn to glance at him, a sad little smile on your lips.

“What you choose to put in the ground,” you say, before reaching out to press the cherry tomato to his lips. Suo blinks at you for a second before slowly opening his mouth to let the tomato slip through. He bites down, doesn’t reach up to wipe at the thin streak of juice slicking down his chin. He watches as your eyes flicker down, feels the pad of your thumb swipe across his skin.

He’s tugging you forward before he can stop himself; you taste the bright burst of sweet and sour on your tongue seconds before he pulls back, eyes wide. You lick your lips, expression half-shocked, half-satisfied. He opens his mouth to apologize —

“S-sorry, I should’ve asked — mmphf!”

You reach up and pull him towards you by the collar of his school uniform. It’s all he can do to catch himself against the rough ground of the rooftop garden, bits of gravel biting into his palm.

The kiss is sweet, is savory, is tentative — and then, suddenly, it bursts into something more — like a bite of over-ripe fruit, with juice sluicing down it’s seams — he surges forward, catching you around the waist. He savors in the friction of your lips against his, the teeth-aching sweetness of your warm breath as you gasp open for him, and only him. And by the gods, he tries to be a good man — a respectful man, but the tiny noise you make as he curls his fingers into the bend of your waist threatens to render all his flighty codes and morals to ash.

It is a noble pursuit, he decides later on, this of all things — to kiss you until there is no other way for you to be kissed. To kiss you just like this, until your mouth is ruined for all other tastes but the one of his tongue. He’s never thought himself a greedy man, but like this — with your body pressed to his on this rooftop garden, he thinks he might’ve learned a few more things about the depths and widths of why greed is considered such a cardinal sin.

When he finally lets you go, he’s satisfied to see there’s a dazed, unfocused haze to your eyes as you blink up at him, fingers fisted into the front of his school uniform.

“You still haven’t told me —” he leans down to press his forehead to yours, reveling in the way you gasp, the hitch in your voice as you lick your lips and he fights back a thick groan.

“Told you what?”

“Why you’d go out of the city bounds to get all those things for my birthday.”

You sigh, pursing your kiss-swollen lips.

“Because… those stores, like the earth, they… they might just need one good seed — one nice interaction —” your lashes flutter and Suo has to physically bat down the urge to lean down and kiss you again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how dragons are made of fairy tale princes — perhaps, all the dragons ever needed was just one more kiss from their fairy tale princess.

“So… you thought to take it upon yourself to be that one nice interaction? To turn all those graveyards… into gardens?”

You crinkle your nose, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls back to stare down at you.

“It’s a stupid thing to do, I know.”

Suo nods, “It is. But… only because you thought you could do it by yourself.”

He shifts, tugging you up into his lap as he readjusts himself to lean back against one of the taller planter boxes, his arms now comfortably looped around your middle.

“Well, if I’d told anyone… they would’ve tried to stop me.”

Suo tuts, reaching up to flick your nose with a gentle finger, “Oh ye of little faith,” he admonishes, grinning as you swat at his hand. He catches you by the wrist, pulling it in to press his lips to your palm, sighing as he nuzzles into your warmth.

“Do you really think we would’ve written off your feelings that easily? That I wouldn’t have at least tried to listen?”

You make to look away, embarrassed at your own oversight, but he tugs your chin back, forcing you to face him properly again.

“C’mon now… smart girl like you… should know better than that, shouldn’t you?”

You narrow your eyes, a feline glint alighting behind your eyes as you reach up to lace your fingers through his, leaning in with a challenge clear in your voice.

“And… if I don’t?”

Suo meets your gaze, a wide smile splitting his face as he tugs you closer, shifting your legs to settle on either side of his hips, his fingers now digging into the plush of your thighs, inching up to tease at the hemline of your skirt.

“Then I suppose… someone’ll just have to teach you better, won’t they?”

657 notes · View notes

revasserium · 6 months ago

Text

entwined shadows

zayne, rafayel, xavier; 1,872 words; fluff, semi-canon compliant, spoilers! for entwined shadows cards, v!suggestive, no "y/n", genderless!reader, lapslock cause lazy, so! many! kisses!

summary: kiss me once, kiss me twice, kiss me thrice or a thousand times

a/n: inspired by the poems of robert frost and also obviously by the entwined shadows cards cause... bruh.

perish, twice - zayne

the hideout is cold — but his lips are warm, hungry.

“z-zayne!”

there’s fire in his veins, pulsing beneath your fingertips, the kind that his ice has never been able to put out — not even once.

“please…” he sounds like a broken man; you know better than to believe him, “i told you… i warned you…” he trails his lips along the column of your neck, his fingers digging into the bend of your hips, his other hand pinning your wrists above your head, “that i might not be able to control myself this time…”

he lets out a breath, the heat of it fogging the air between you in the dark chill of the room. you feel your skin burning, even as you shiver. your mind spins with the incongruencies, the push and pull, the icy bite of the air, the stinging heat of zayne’s body against yours.

“i-if we freeze tonight —” your voice is unsteady, heady with desire, but zayne cuts you off.

“i won’t let you.” he cups your cheek and you feel the skin there tingle with warmth. slowly, you watch as the vines of pale blue begin to fade from his skin.

you shake your head even as you pull him down for another deep, long kiss, the kind that sears —

“no… i won’t let you.”

when you break apart again, there’s a wild, unfocused light to his eyes, a shallowness to his breaths. he looks dazed, but as his gaze flickers down to your kiss-swollen lips, a razor like focus shifts inside him and suddenly, he’s caging you in, his teeth skimming the delicate skin above your fluttering pulse.

“tell me… tell me this is okay…” his voice is barely a whisper. but you hear it loud as the howling of the storm outside. you breathe out.

“zayne. i want this — i want… you.”

a groan rumbles through him, base and heavy as an avalanche.

he murmurs something that sound suspiciously like a prayer before he sinks his teeth into the bare skin of your shoulder and rips open the front of your shirt in one smooth motion.

the storm outside continues to rage, but at the very least, you can be certain — the ice pulsing beneath his skin is slowly beginning to thaw away.

taste of desire - rafayel

“but this one… i think i like this one best.” rafayel grins as he leans down to press two quick kisses to your cheeks, pulling back to trail his gaze over your blush-tinted skin. heat prickles at your neck but you refuse to look away.

instead, you attempt a glare, “y-you said that three seconds ago.”

rafayel makes an aggrieved expression, “it’s not my fault your cheeks can turn so many colors so quickly! do you know how tiring it is to try and pick my favorite color when i can see so many? ah — there, this one’s nice too!” he taps his finger against the tip of your nose even as you feel your entire face flush.

you bite your lips and push back against him, toppling the pair of you over onto the sofa in his wide-open studio. the windows are cracked, and the spring breeze flirts with the gauzy white curtains; the setting sun paints the entire room in a soft, dreamlike glow.

“why can’t you just call it blush pink like everyone else?” you crinkle your nose and try to turn your head away, even as rafayel shifts beneath you, running a warm palm down the length of your spine to shift you closer.

he cocks his head, lips pushing into a familiar pout, “how can an artist like me be so vague?” he shakes a few strands of hair from his eyes, batting long lashes up at you, “in order to achieve perfection, you have to be specific with your words, you know.”

you’re about to say something else but he sits up, pressing in close enough for your noses to brush, “for instance — if you want a kiss…” his eyes flicker down to your lips; you feel your breath hitch, your heartbeat scattering within your chest like a handful of tossed marbles.

he inches forward, agonizingly slowly, till his lips are hovering only a hair’s breath away from yours. your fingers tighten in his shirt but he makes no move to kiss you.

“you should tell me where…” he makes to lean in, but turns his head at the last moment to skim his lips along your cheeks, his breath tickling your earlobe for a second, “like… here?” he lowers his head, trailing a light kiss against your jaw, “or… perhaps here…” he drops his lips to the bend of your shoulder.

you tremble in his arms, fingers fisting as you attempt to pull him closer.

“r-rafayel… you’re not playing fair.”

he pulls back, an almost gleeful grin spreading across his lips, the light cascading across the room drawing his lashes into long, mesmerizing shadows across the highs of his cheeks.

“why should i? you humans’ve never played fair before. for my own self-preservation… i’ve gotta have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

you squirm in his lap as you feel his fingers tickling at your sides, but as he pins you to his chest, you let out a surprised yelp, palms pressing flat against his chest to steady yourself.

“so, tell me, strange human…” he leans in, nose nudging yours, “what exactly do you want from me, hm?”

you lick your lips, a dull, pulsing ache echoing up from the base of your belly to the top of your spine. you reach up to trace a thumb against the pad of his lips and watch with a stomach-twisting satisfaction as his breath goes shallow, his eyes go wide, go dark.

“kiss me,” you say, leaning down till you’re sure he can almost taste you on his tongue.

you feel him swallow as you trail your thumb down along his neck to the place where his pulse flutters, light and fast as the flurried beats of a butterfly’s wings.

“i thought… i thought i told you… you have to be more specific.”

you allow yourself a grin, fingers tightening ever so slightly around his neck; his cheeks flush the most gorgeous shade of sunset pink and you take a second to marvel to yourself that you’d never quite seen this color on him before. it might just be your favorite yet.

“rafayel… kiss me… right here.”

here come the stars - xavier

looking back, it had felt like a dream — twenty-one days of living together, of grocery shopping and tv-watching, of sleeping next to each other, of waking up to the warm scent of his skin.

“what if we just stayed here forever?”

you twist to face him in the dark; it’s your last night here, and the previous afternoon, you’d sat beneath the thick slices of lemon-yellow sunlight pouring through the windows with a bowl of cherries and the taste of each other resting on your tongues.

“we’d be implicating ourselves in the mission.”

xavier sighs, shifting a bit closer and reaching out to cup your cheek. you lean into the touch, letting your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into his heat.

“i know. but…” his finger traces the line of your nose down to the soft of your lips. you let them fall open a second before you feel him pressing in closer, before his lips graze yours and you feel yourself falling into his embrace.

the sheets twist around your ankles. outside, the the scimitar moon watches with slitted silver eyes.

“but…” you say, your voice thick with the honey of recent kisses, “who says that it can’t be like this when we get back to linkon city?”

xavier makes a soft noise at the back of his throat, pulling away to glance down at you.

“what… are you…”

there’s a breathless anticipation pulsing beneath the current of his voice; you sigh and lean up for another quick kiss.

“and you were calling me a dummy earlier…” but even as you steel yourself against the words weighing down the tip of your tongue, you feel your cheeks go hot and silently thank the heavens that it’s too dark in the room for him to see just how red you’d probably gotten.

“i — i’m asking if you want to — i mean, we’re already neighbors so, it wouldn’t even be a very hard move…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly very dry. beside you, xavier’s gone white-rabbit still. if it weren’t for the shallow sound of his breaths or the wild beating of his heart beneath your hands, you might’ve wondered if he were even there at all.

“i just thought —” you quickly amend, the silence thickening around you like churned butter, “if you really did l-like it like this… it wouldn’t be hard for us to —”

he silences you with another kiss, more forceful this time. and whereas the previous ones were all soft and languid, this one is open-mouthed, a stomach-clenching hunger pouring itself from his mouth to yours as he presses you down beneath him and pins you to the bed.

his knee presses up between your legs and desire lances through you, bright and sharp as lightening. you gasp, biting down on his lips as he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“i don’t know — if that’s a good — idea —”

you lick your lips, frowning up at him. you’ve never seen him so winded; you’d barely even seen him out of breath, but right now, even in the dim light, you can see him shaking apart at the edges.

“w-why?” you have to fight to keep the hurt from your voice, but the next second, xavier is pressing his tongue back into your mouth and running it along the backs of your teeth. he kisses you so hard and so thoroughly you nearly pass out from the lack of air.

“because — i — we’d never get any sleep. and —” his hair tickles the skin of your cheeks as you let out a surprised laugh, his lips trailing down the length of your throat, “and i rather like my sleep…”

you let your eyes fall shut again, tangling your fingers in his starlight hair as he hisses against your chest.

“well — at least tomorrow we have the day off… so, i suppose if there’s any night we won’t need much sleep…”

xavier lets out a soft groan, shaking his head even as he peppers your skin with even more kisses, “don’t… don’t say stuff like that. people might get the wrong idea.”

you give his hair a playful tug, reveling in the way his whole body seems to go taut above you as he lifts his head.

“or,” you smile, slowly releasing his hair from your fingers, “they might be getting exactly the right idea.”

547 notes · View notes