#Longer fics

[i-did-not-mean-to]

S&D 100+ SFW

Here are the slightly (or much) longer ones that are safe for work...Word counts are approximate :D

🪷 Here at the beginning for @the-red-butterfly - Finwë x Thingol - G - 500 w

🪷 Here at the end for @the-red-butterfly - Finwë x Thingol - T - 4.2 k

🪷 Reaching for the stars for @the-red-butterfly - Varda x Manwë x Yavanna (?) - T - 300 w (Art is NSFW)

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Second chances for @ruiniel - Modern!AU Maeglin x ? - T - 1.5 k

🪷 If I could turn back time... for @ruiniel - Maedhros - T - 3 k

🪷 You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath for @ruiniel - Melkor & Nienna - T - 1.4 k

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Lost Books, Kept Memory for @thedaughterofshadows - Ori - G - 200 w

🪷 Miez, Miez, Miez... for @thedaughterofshadows - Nerdanel x Anairë - G - 350 w

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Strike one for @sortumavaara - Elrond & Erestor - T - 1.5 k

🪷Strike two for @sortumavaara - Glorfindel x Erestor - T - 2.7 k

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Valarin Harp for @z-h-i-e - Multiple characters and ships - T - 2.9 k

🪷 A sign for all to see for @z-h-i-e - Maedhros x Fingon - G - 200 w

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 A quantum of solace for lferion - Legolas x Gimli, Ori - G - 200 w

🪷 I'll sew a blanket of love to keep you warm at night for lferion - Varda & Vairë - G - 200 w

🪷 Painting by numbers...for lferion - Nerdanel & Fingon - G - 200 w

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷Listen and learn for @goschatewabn - Melkor & Maedhros - T - 1.4 k

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 The start of the journey for @elennalore - Nerdanel x Fëanor - G - 200 w

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Shárkñado for @violecov - Melkor & sharks - T - 1.6 k

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Dog eat dog or something like that for @cilil - Doggo, Melkor x Mairon - G - 200 w

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 Propaganda. Selected pages from Tome 4 for @maglor-my-beloved - Fëanorians - T - 800 w

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

🪷 The brave warrior for @fishing4stars - Glorfindel & Balrog - T - 200 w

Please keep in mind that tagging and putting ratings is not my strongest suit. Mind the tags, and take care of yourselves!

@fall-for-tolkien

[merlinfanficrecs]

Hi!! Loving what you've posted recently: do you have any recs for things that are a bit longer than that? Like 10k words or more? About anything really!

Hello! Here's some I found in my ao3 bookmarks!

The Problem with Power by BookshopLaura

Arthur is cursed. But he doesn't feel threatened by a curse that Merlin will do exactly as he's told. Until he's faced with the true consequence of that power.

Truths, Wounded and Worn by poetic_emrys

Arthur wasn't meant to see Merlin's magic in the last moments of battle, but he did.

Merlin wasn't meant to take the arrow fired at Arthur, but he did.

Maybe they can find the truth in all of it. Maybe not.

To the Brows Laid in Thorn and Weapons Made of Words by ificouldwrite

Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic prior to the events of season 5 and post-season 4. He goes into sullen silence to punish Merlin for lying to him, leaving Merlin in the interim of "does he want me dead or does he just need time?"

It leaves Merlin spiraling and Arthur to deal with the heart of Camelot, his heart, to deal with it.

I Will Send Out An Army To Find You by TheBlackShadow1210

Morgana is prepared to do anything to get rid of her brother, but all of her plans haven’t worked out so far. She knows what to do to change it. After all, what would Arthur not do to save his own servant? Locked in the place where his nightmares come to life, Merlin can only hope the king of Camelot can save him before he loses his mind, and himself, in the process.

Or

The Dark Tower episode but make it Merthur.

______________________________________________________________

Let me know if you'd like more!

[armageddon-is-light-after-dark]

From the longer fic I'm working on "

“Sure.” Cal answered tiredly. BD opinion that the striped toque's colours would make a good accent colour for his legs. “I'm not sure about that BD but you can look into it, sure.” He agreed amused.

“But I need to see it on my humans head in order to fully appreciate whether the colours would work.” BD continued eagerly from Cal's shoulder. He climbed fully on to Cal's shoulder to run a scan over the hat and projected several 3D models of Cal wearing it.

“Okay okay, I'll put it on.” He chuckled tugging it down over his red ears.

“Yes I approve of this.” BD danced and spun on Cal's shoulder.

“Thanks BD.”

Striped toques are BD approved

[imma-dragon53]

You’ve heard of “justice league doesn’t know Batman has kids”

Now prepare for “the Team doesn’t know Batman is Robins dad”

[rejectedbytheempty]

actually, ykw? imagine if simon had a civilian s/o and bc he’s constantly away and the partner is there most of the time anyways, he lets them decorate the place.

they make it so cozy with a million lamps with stained glass lampshades and tapestries on the walls and an unexpected number of stuffed animals on the bed.

one time, simon invites tf 141 to his flat and their jaws dropped, bc ofc simon didn’t warn them about the absolute pinterest board that his place was.

in fact, he hadn’t mentioned a partner at all, or to you that his team would be coming over so you’re still in one of simon’s raggedy old t-shirts with a handful of dry cereal halfway to your mouth.

it’s generally a shock for both parties, simon excluded, who seems to settle himself right in, kissing the top of your head, eyes crinkling slightly as he grins, looking rather like a cat showing off the bird he dragged in.

you had some choice words for him later, but for now, you brushed the crumbs off your face and wiped your hands off on your shirt before sticking your hand out to the team to introduce yourself.

surprisingly, it goes rather well. all things considered. the team is charmed by you and your ability to make ghost blush and smile endlessly. and you’re absolutely enamored with the fact that they keep complimenting your decor.

[trappolia]

"i never noticed this before," you murmur, brushing your fingers over the singular dragon scale upon malleus's forehead, the ebony a darker shade of his hair against the pallid alabaster of his skin. the touch startles malleus for but a single moment, before he regains his composure.

he smiles, something impish and childlike glinting in his eyes as he leans down till he's level with you. unperturbed (you've grown accustomed to his many quirks in your time together, just as you've found the beauty of the gargoyles that malleus finds so much joy in observing), you take his closeness in proximity as an invitation to continue. malleus makes a soft, pleased purr as you brush his bangs away, touching the delicate scale.

"i suppose it's always been covered by my hair," he muses, smiling conspiratorically. "does it please you, finding more evidence of my draconic lineage?"

you hum, barely holding back a smile as you twist a strand of his hair around your finger. "i suppose it pleases me just to learn more things about you."

malleus blinks, caught off guard by your boldness for just a moment before he throws his head back to the raining heavens to laugh. the tears of the sky touch his face, and he has never been more angelic.

"oh, you delight me so, child of man."

[luvlyycy]

you're sat in sukuna's lap, bum seated on his right leg, legs dangling off his left. his right arm is wrapped around your waist, letting you play with his hand.

"kuna."

"yeah?"

"why do you wear rings?" you ask, hands fiddling with sukuna's right-hand, tips of your fingers tapping on the rings on his fingers. he looks at you, yawning before staring— "iunno. i like 'em i guess. it's like askin' ya why you wear bracelets—"

you perk your head up to his, legs wiggling in his lap. "i wear them 'cause they cute." you smile, and he just stares— blinks twice, then grins, his hand reaching on the table to set down the blunt in his hand (after taking one last hit), he then grabs onto the pink robe he had gotten for you.

"so why ya think i wear rings?" you giggle as he slids his hand up your thigh, tickling you.

" 'cause theyyyy,, cute?—" you pout when he rolls his eyes, shaking his head then licking at his lip piercing— " nah, it's cause you like 'em."

[stemmmm]

my fucking plane won't take off so theseus' guide chapter 8 spoilers be upon ye

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Police Officer Wes

"Excuse me, sorry, Mr. Batman, sir!"

That's definitely not a voice he knows. Bruce halts in his steps, aborting his usual retreat into the shadows, and turns back around. Commissioner Gordon, who was still in the process of wrapping up his small talk with Tim - the term 'grumpy banter' would describe their conversation more accurately at this point, but Bruce knows better than to argue with the two over semantics - also turns around, pausing in the middle of the sentence.

A ginger haired boy, wide-eyed and obviously either nervous, starstruck, or both, is staring at him from a few feet behind the Commissioner. Bruce can see a few more faces peeking from behind the half-opened door to the roof, all of them filled with anticipation. He knows two of them: detectives that work directly under Gordon, Isaiah Vasquez, and Tasha Kuznets. The third one, a black man in his forties, also looks vaguely familiar, but Bruce can't recall a name.

Yet, he knows absolutely nothing about the ginger, who hasn't blinked once since Bruce noticed him and is now biting on his lips. But he is wearing a police uniform, so, possibly, a new hire?

"Weston, get out," Jim sighs, waving a shooing hand at the boy with a look of barely concealed exasperation on his face. Definitely a new hire, then. That's the level of annoyance he reserves only for the overachieving rookies that he begrudgingly likes but never admits to.

"I-" newly named Weston starts but cuts himself off. Then, he takes a deep breath and straightens up, "Just one question, sir!"

"Weston, I swear to God," Commissioner pinches the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up a bit. But Tim tilts his head to the side, looking in the ginger's direction and raising his eyebrows. His domino mask hides it, but Bruce knows his menagerie of kids well enough to see that he is at least a bit curious about the boy. So he turns back around fully and inclines his head, giving Weston his attention. He doesn't mind talking with those rare few members of GCPD that Gordon likes.

Weston perks up like a very eager dog at the sight of a treat. In the contrast lighting of the BatSignal, his hair looks like it's on fire.

"If you don't mind, was the 'Smiling case' relevant to Joker in any sense?" The boy asks, loud and clear - maybe even too loud - with his unblinking gaze still glued to Bruce. Like he is afraid that if he closes his eyes for a moment, Gotham's vigilantes are going to disappear without a trace.

It's not a question Bruce expected, to be honest. The 'Smiling case' was closed just a few days ago, Gordon was still not done with the paperwork, as far as Oracle's records went. A murder of three, where all victims had some badly drawn clown makeup on them - post-mortem makeup, as it turned out, the murderer tried to deceive the investigation by trying to cover it up as Joker's doing. Only, he didn't do a good job at it, all the Bats were way too familiar with the Mad Clown's signature style. Not to mention that Joker was still securely sealed in his Arkham cell.

Bruce turns to look at Red Robin. He was the one working on the case, so Bruce gives him the choice of answering or not. Tim jerks his shoulder, looks the ginger boy up and down, and then shakes his head.

"Aside from a poor attempt at leading the investigation in the wrong direction, no, it wasn't," Tim shrugs, "The guy isn't even a Gothamite, he knew of Joker only from the rumors and media. And the clown faces were a makeshift cover-up."

Weston visibly deflates at the answer. Bruce watches in a slight amusement as Tasha nudges the other officer, one he doesn't remember the name of, in the shoulder, and stage-whispers, "Pay up." The older man huffs and disappears behind the door, followed by Isaiah.

"Thank you, Mr. Red Robin," Wesley nods politely and takes a step back, his eyes darting to Gordon. Tim snorts a laugh but doesn't correct him. Commissioner, though, gives the boy a long, dreadful sigh.

"Is that all, officer Weston?" He asks, not even bothering to hide his 'tired dad' voice.

The ginger nods again, "Yes, Commissioner Gordon."

"Then get out of my sight before I make all your shifts double," Jim commands, and Weston nearly runs back to the door with a speed that makes Bruce involuntarily think of speedsters. Must be the red hair.

Tim turns to look at the Commissioner right as the door to the roof slams shut behind both Weston and Kuznets.

"Who is he?"

Bruce is also a bit curious now. New recruits in the GCPD are nothing out of the ordinary, but Jim seems to know this one personally, and Kuznets, who is one of his trusted detectives, seems to also like the officer.

Gordon briefly huffs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat. It's quite chilly today; Bruce makes a mental note to switch everyone to their more insulated suits. Scarecrow is currently out on the loose. It won't do any good if any of the Bats went down with a cold.

"Wesley Weston, fresh out of the Academy," Commissioner sighs, but, somehow, Bruce gets the impression it's not a sound of simple exasperation over a new officer eager to prove himself. Jim proves his assumptions by looking around the shoulder to make sure the door to the roof is still closed, and continuing, "Born and raised in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, but GCPD was his first choice. He explained it as having a few friends living in the city, which, unfortunately, proved to be right."

Bruce frowns and grunts, alarm bells ringing in his mind. Deliberately choosing to work in Gotham despite not being from here can be caused by many reasons, and nearly none of them are good reasons.

"Unfortunately?" Tim inquires suspiciously, also with a slight frown, but Jim waves them both off.

"No, he's got nothing to do with any of the criminals. It was the first thing I checked when he mentioned 'friends'. If anything, he's quite on the opposite; he'd make a great detective one day, what with his countless conspiracy theories, determination and the insane urge to dig up every single detail known to mankind," he laughs a bit, and Bruce notices a slight, teasing twinkle to the Commissioner's eyes behind his glasses. "On his second day here, the boy went and plain told me he knows that Batman is Bruce Wayne and that he's saying that because he knows I know and he is aware we're working together."

The alarm bells in Bruce's mind turn into sirens. They never discussed the matters of Bats' real identities with Gordon - Bruce had his suspicions that the man knew it and simply kept his status quo. In all fairness, James Gordon didn't make it to Gotham's Commissioner by sheer dumb luck, so all the Bats kind of expected him to figure it out one day.

But Jim knowing who's behind the cowl is one thing. A new, out of town officer is quite another.

"What did you answer?" Tim asks with an easy smile, but Bruce sees the barely noticeable tension in his shoulders.

Gordon nearly grins, "I didn't believe him, which turned out to be exactly what he expected. He also told me of some kind of a familial curse - he called it 'Cassandra's curse', I believe you're aware of what it means. And then, when I naturally expressed my doubts, proceeded to show it in action. Believe me, it works. Sometimes, it even works too well," the man looks to the side with an amused huff, "That's why officer Weston is strictly prohibited from voicing his opinions on any of the ongoing cases outloud. Detective Kuznets almost missed some critical evidence because of his input once."

Cassandra's curse, Bruce has heard of that saying before. Granted, he never thought it could be a real thing, and he is not intending on starting now, not before he investigates the matter thoroughly. But he does trust Jim - years and years of working together would do that to people - so he simply nods in understanding, leaving the matter of supernatural aside for now.

"What about his friends?" Red Robin asks again, and that causes Gordon to wince momentarily.

"That, I believe, was the cause of his performance just now. One of his friends runs an occult shop, and the other one loves to hang around our forensic scientists and coroners occasionally," the man waves their immediate frowns off again, "I don't go into the morgue often, but I heard he's good at finding out the causes of death by a few looks at the body. And they run a lot of bets between them three," Jim shrugs nonchalantly, "The last one was about the 'Smiling case', I take it."

"Any reason to worry about them?" Bruce can't help but ask. It's not unusual for people to be weird in this city, and running an occult shop and hanging out with pathologists are not exactly reasons to go through background checks when they've got much more pressing issues on their plate. Namely, Scarecrow: it's been more than a week since his escape, but none of the Bats have heard anything about him yet. Oracle is already busy enough with that and the current uprise of gang activity in the Narrows, there's no point in piling even more work on her shoulders just because of some gossip that rubs Bruce the wrong way.

Gordon, thankfully, doesn't take his question lightly and pauses, scratching his chin.

"No," he finally concludes after some thought, "They are a bit strange for non-Gothamites, I'll say that, but in terms of this city? They are no stranger than my neighbors from upstairs." Gordon doesn't tell them to leave it alone, Bruce notices. However, it's probably not because of any doubts he has; the Bats just have a habit of tripplechecking everything anyways, and who would know that better than Jim Gordon?

A quick glance to Tim proves Bruce's thoughts. Red Robin, despite the mask, looks thoughtful. How many cases is he already working on, seven? Bruce makes another mental note to ask Alfred to cut his caffeine intake. It might be a bit hypocritical of him, what with his own plans to send a few messages to JLD about the 'Cassandra's curse', but Bruce excuses himself as the adult in the family.

Commissioner Gordon clears his throat.

"Do you want me to turn around so you can make your mysterious escape, or-" he starts, but both vigilantes are already gone by the time he finishes, "-or not, okay."

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 57 (Masterlist)

Part 58 Coming At Some Point

@bruciemilf

Hey so uhh it's been a while. (If you look closely, squint a little, I literally made some of these photos over a year ago. I feel SICK. This AU is ancient.)

Here’s the SNL episode once again for the uninitiated.

Okay so hear me out. I know a lot of people were excited to see Caleb discover the batcave yada yada but the #1 rule is No One Figures It Out. Otherwise, the entire point of the series is obsolete and it ends. (Tim does find out ofc but not Caleb. None of the main cast. No OCs.) So he gets let go from babysitting Dick and Jason, mostly because Bruce and Alfred realize their mistake, and he never sees the batcave. RIP. ANYWAYS hope y’all forgive me. Didn’t realize I was implying that until everyone started screaming about it in the comments. Caleb is still blissfully unaware :)

No idea when the next part is coming out. I am currently in an airport banging this out before I convince myself not to post it AGAIN but you guys deserve better. It’s the holidays. So Merry December 19th-ish. Peace :)

[callsigngrim]

Simon Riley is a chubby chaser

He's constantly surrounded by violence he needs to be harder and sharper than his enemies.

He's covered in scars and hard skin from years on the field and his missions always leaves him on edge... until he comes home to you.

You are his complete opposite. You and your soft plush body. The only marks on you skin are the stretch marks you shyly tried to hide the first time you two fell into bed together.

The way everything about you is a luxury he thought he could never deserve.

It takes him a day or too to settle at home. For his brain to register that he's safe and he doesn't need to be ghost he can be Simon.

You don't have time to even think when you hear him come down into the living room before he's on you. Groping your soft flesh and kissing you like there is no tomorrow.

He pushes your soft thighs apart yanks your underwear off. And he feasts. You lock him in soft thighs keeping him in place while he makes a mess out of you.

You've learned fairly quickly that Simon is a talker when he has his face buried in your pretty cunt. He's the happiest when he's being suffocated by the fat of your thighs.

And when he looks up at you and your pretty bouncing tits? The man is in heaven.

He pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you. And he hasn't even fucked you yet.

[fallbhind]

imagine young!reader crying while riding old man!logan, genuinely he didn't know what to do because he'd never been with someone younger, like (18-20s not a minor) so he's just wiping tears as he helps guide you with his free hand.

old man!logan was always careful when it came to you, you were just a gently little flower waiting to bloom into something more, but sometimes he just couldn't avoid hurting you. you were young and just so sensitive. times like now, as you bounced up and down on his cock, tears ebbing at your waterline as you grasped at his feeling the need to be closer as tears streamed down your cheek. one of his hands abandoned your hips, to wipe away the tears, "what's wrong?" he whispered gently, with of a hint teasing betraying his worriedness. sometimes (everytime) you started to cry, he sought opportunity to tease you. logan couldn't help but to. "what if—" you hitched your breath as he grabbed your hips, bringing you to a still as you hiccuped, "—what if you leave me for someone better?" like usual, it was always something silly, he would never leave you. if he left you, the world would chew you like gum 'n spit you back out with no hesitation, and he could never let that happen. ever.

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

— sequel to bed chem but could be read as a standalone!

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ your old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 

[monstersholygrail]

Dragon hybrid meets fairy reader and tries to eat her by grilling her with his fire but sees that she’s actually fire proof? Obviously dragon falls in love instantly and eats her in another way ✨

How cool!! That’s a super fascinating combination and possible power dynamic between the two monsters.

Consider, the big bad Dragon of the mountain and one of the last of his kind, comes down to the forest below in order to hunt. His large stature doesn’t allow for very sneaky attacks but what does he need for stealth when he can breathe fire??

He thinks it’s his lucky day when he sees a clueless Fairy all lost in their own world, not paying attention to their surroundings. Fruit ripe for the picking, he thinks. He unhinges his jaw, fire building up in his throat and giving him that warm spark throughout his body. Just as he’s about to cook his meal, he sees the Fairy turn around and meet his eye. But instead of fear and panic crossing her face, she merely smirks.

The confrontation startles the dragon and the fire that bursts forth from his throat is weak and flimsy. Still, for any normal creature it would’ve made them a nice medium rare. Not his first choice but he wouldn’t complain. But when he looks at the Fairy she’s left standing, her curious yet alluring body still perfectly in tact. Not even a scorch mark on her skin!

Her clothes though… the Dragon supposes whatever magic this creature possesses doesn’t include her clothing as the Fairy is left standing completely naked before him.

Of course, the mighty Dragon has to inspect and investigate how such a small creature compared to him was able to thwart his fire attack. The Fairy, feeling very smug about having outsmarted the Dragon that towers over her, agrees to be played with. She was certain he would never guess.

The Dragon inspects her body, sniffing and searching for the warmth he senses within her. That warmth most evident between her fleshy thighs. The Fairy is surprised when the Dragon brings her to the ground, his tongue dipping into her cunt in search of the heat. The Fairy moans and her heat grows, making the Dragon all the more curious.

His giant tongue laps at the Fairy’s pretty cunt. He watches it as it grows slick, puffy, and hotter by the minute. He growls, wanting answers and his pace quickens, tongue swirling through her folds, trying to get to where she runs hottest.

Realizing it’s inside her the Dragon leans back, making the Fairy whine in protest. The Dragon releases another tunnel of fire from its jaws, though this one purposefully remaining gentle as it curls and travels inside the Fairy’s cunt. The Fairy gasps, her body shaking with pleasure as the Dragon fucks her with his fire. Thrusting in and out of her pussy as it longs for the mysterious heat inside her.

With the heat licking along her walls in a way that has her head spinning and her body tingling, it doesn’t take long for the Fairy to cum all over the length of the fire inside her. The Dragon can taste it as it travels through the tunnel and he growls, breathing more fire, forcing it to burrow deeper inside her. The Fairy moans, her body limp and allowing the Dragon in even deeper.

As the flames course through her body and intertwine with her very essence, the Dragon finally understands. Her heart beating with the strength of a Dragon and a Fairy. A half-breed. His flames leave her and he moves to rest beside her weak form, his tail curling around her form protectively.

Originally having been looking for a meal, the lonely Dragon found something much more special instead.

[ruleofheart]

desperately needing best friend! ellie who is just so much better at handling horror than you are.

it starts with ellie slyly handing you a ticket to an upcoming horror fest; fright frenzy. you’re not one for actual horror attractions– it almost takes too much to get you to sit through an entire movie. so, as you the eye the ticket with worry, ellie interjects.

“we’re going,” she declares, leaving no room for argument. “dina and jesse, too. next friday.”

“next friday?! it’s only september!”

it’s how you end up in line for a haunted house, your eyes lost in a daze as you try to put on a calm front.

see, ellie is someone who can appreciate a good scare. she’s grown to think that most jumpscares are pretty cheap, save for the creative ones that actually get her to say, “that was sick.”

she’s someone who doesn’t even flinch at elaborate costumes, usually complimenting the actors and asking for a selfie with the zombie with amazing sfx makeup.

she’s someone, and probably the only one, who sees through your little front. with dina and jesse too caught up in their own conversation (behaving like those abysmal couples in line), she nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of your internal hype session.

“hey. you can hold my hand, if you want.” it’s soft, but with a hint of a knowing smile.

and once you get inside; oh, you take her offer and run with it. you end up pressed into her side, her arm wrapped around you. your eyes tucked away in the crevice of her shoulder as she dips down to talk you through it (sheesh!). her voice is low, and it would probably drive you crazy if it weren’t for the guttural screams and sound effects erupting at every corner.

since ellie is handling herself just fine, she whispers to you as she sees the jumpscares ahead of time.

“clown coming up. god, he looks so corny.”

“hey, hey; you’re doing so good, it’s almost over.”

and when the lights flash a little too much, her hands come up to cover your eyes, her sweet words filtering into your ear. ugh, you could almost die.

and it’s the way that she bites back a smile when she drives you home. the way you try to subtly tell her, i don’t wanna sleep alone tonight. the way she nonchalantly offers for you to stay over at hers, promising to keep a comedy movie on until you fall asleep.

you end up sleeping in ellie’s bed, your whole body trying to wrap around and snuggle into her arm as she looks down at you, her heart skipping curiously.

[peachylynnie]

wolf in sheep's clothing

word count: 2k

synopsis: in which xavier acts innocent despite his not-so-innocent touches.

contains: xavier x mc!reader (early established relationship), he kinda gaslights you (but with no bad intentions really), freaky xavier (not smut tho), suggestive themes, mentions of violence and death, and cussing.

a/n: i had to write for my second favorite lads man at some point. i read somewhere that the official chinese description for xavier is "wolf in sheep's clothing," (don't quote me on that; i could be wrong) and i wholeheartedly believe he is. do NOT copy or translate my work. xavier does NOT endorse plagiarism.

you're convinced your boyfriend is a wolf in sheep's clothing. sure, his pure cerulean eyes and tender voice might convince you otherwise (they did at first). but, with the way xavier's been touching you, you're sure of it. your boyfriend is a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you have the evidence to prove it. countless pieces of evidence, actually. but let's look at the most memorable ones, shall we?

evidence #1

"welcome home, starlight," xavier greets you with open arms and crinkled eyes. your heart can't help but swell at the sight. nothing compares to seeing your boyfriend in a cozy white sweater after opening the door following an exhaustive day of battling wanderers. you swear you were this close to losing it after dealing with lemonette's stupid limes for what seemed like hours. yet, xavier, in all his ash-gray-haired, blue-eyed, soft-spoken glory, takes your pains away with just one simple gesture of welcoming you home.

"hi, xavier." you fall into him, basking in the warmth of his tight embrace. you could honestly die a happy hunter from this. "i missed you."

xavier chuckles, pulling away so he can look at you properly. "i missed you too," he caresses your face. "i missed you so much." he crashes his lips into yours, ardently seeking your taste, your scent, your everything.

you're taken aback by xavier's sudden fervor. but, you return the favor by opening your mouth, eagerly granting his tongue entrance. it's not the first time your beloved boyfriend has initiated such a passionate kiss. after all, you two love each other very much, to the point you're willing to die for each other. a kiss like this is natural to come by; you're blissfully used to it. what you're not used to is what xavier does next.

he weaves his fingers into your hair and tugs.

"ah!" you pull away, panting with wide eyes. what the heck was that? he's never done that before. why did he do that? it felt so good.

xavier blinks at you innocently before asking, "you okay?"

"uh yeah," you stutter, trying to process what just happened. "i'm okay. are you okay?" seriously, is xavier, your puppy-like boyfriend, okay? why did he pull your hair? by no means did it hurt. it was a single, firm tug, yet it did so much, as evidenced by your shortage of breaths and clenching of thighs.

xavier smiles brightly and nods. you close your eyes, expecting him to resume the kiss, totally not hoping to feel his slender fingers pull on your hair. instead, this motherfucker he pecks your cheek and walks away, yawning. "i'm sleepy," he has the audacity to rub his eyes. "let's go to sleep, yeah?"

your jaw drops. did he seriously just suggest you go to sleep?! staring at your boyfriend, you expect an answer for his confusing behavior. xavier blinks innocently, again. "you sure you're okay, starlight?"

you frown, growing even more confused. he's not dumb. you know he's not dumb. heck, he's the association's best hunter. there's no way he doesn't know what he's doing to you. you sigh and shake your head, concluding that perhaps xavier was just caught up in the heat of the moment and was genuinely tired. after all, he battles wanderers too, even more than you. "yeah, i'm okay, xavier." you walk past him and towards your shared bedroom, trying to relieve your mind of certain thoughts. "let's sleep."

unfortunately, you don't catch the amusement in xavier's eyes when you bid him goodnight and turn off the lights.

evidence #2

"how's the food?" xavier asks, whispering into your ear.

beaming at him, you nod excitedly. "it's great. nothing like hotpot with friends on a cold night, right?"

indeed, little to nothing compared to spending time with xavier and your fellow hunters at your comfort restaurant. you and xavier were shoulder to shoulder, sitting across from tara and nero. everything was perfect. the food tasted amazing, your friends were enjoying themselves, and most importantly, xavier was right next to you, with a hand on your thigh, of course.

you don't mind in the slightest. it's assuring, actually. the warmth his touch provides adds more to this delightful atmosphere. content from both the food and the mood, you can't help but rest your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. "thanks for being here, xavier." you murmur.

xavier smiles softly, resting his cheek on your crown. "of course, starlight."

you giggle, nuzzling into him. you love it when he calls you that. "starlight." though, you can't help but feel it should be you calling him that instead. like an actual starlight, xavier shines brightly wherever he goes. from hunting hundreds of wanderers to protecting hundreds of civilians, xavier illuminates the world and you can't help but be blinded at times. not that you mind. you would gladly be blinded by him a million times over if it meant being in his presence.

"okay, that's enough, you lovebirds," tara teases.

you roll your eyes playfully, lifting your head from xavier's shoulder. as much as you would like to stay there forever, you understand the occasional nagging that comes with public displays of affection. hoping to sit up properly, you go to cross your legs. with a click of his tongue, xavier grips your thigh, hard.

yelping, you jolt in your seat. immediately, you cover your mouth, embarrassed over the borderline wanton noise you just made. you stare at xavier, mortified. what the fuck was that?

"are you okay?" tara says your name in concern. she tries to reach over the table, but xavier stops her by handing you some napkins with his free hand and adding another squeeze to your thigh. it's taking everything in you not to squeal.

"she's okay," xavier answers, smiling innocently. "she just spilled some broth, right?" he turns to you, expecting you to follow along.

"yeah," you answer shakily. "sorry, just got a little clumsy, i guess." after pretending to wipe yourself with the napkins xavier gave you, you down a glass of water, hoping to relieve the heat in your face and also in between your legs. you're not sure what is happening anymore. he's never gripped your leg before, let alone touched you so roughly. it felt so fucking good.

for the rest of the night, xavier continued to squeeze your thigh, leaving you a flustered mess. it was torture having to sit through the gathering without making any noise. every so often, when tara or nero wasn't looking, you looked at your boyfriend desperately, begging him to stop (not really) or at least provide an answer for why he was doing this. instead, he would just inch his hand higher and flash that damned innocent smile. by the time the waiter came back with the paid tab, xavier's hand was threatening access to your hip joint. you're not sure how he made his arm look like it wasn't doing anything.

after bidding tara and nero goodbye, you immediately drag xavier outside. "what was that?" you ask impatiently. the freezing air was doing absolutely nothing to cool your heated face, and you're not sure if that pissed you off more or xavier's calm expression.

xavier tilts his head to the right, feigning confusion. "what was what?"

you're want to scream so badly right now. "that!" you snap as you motion to your leg.

xavier tilts his head to the left, gathering his lips into a pout. "i just wanted to massage your leg since it seemed sore from training."

what the fuck? dumbfoundedly, you stare at xavier. there's no way those squeezes could be called a massage. but looking at his pouty face, you can't bring yourself to argue. well shit, now you just feel like a pervert.

you sigh, taking xavier's hand and heading towards the car. "thanks for the massage, xavier."

you miss the smirk growing on his face. "anything for you, starlight."

evidence #3 (happening right now, send help)

"whatcha making?" xavier cutely asks as he wraps his arms around your waist.

you were at the kitchen counter of your shared apartment, rolling some dough with your flour-covered palms. "i wanted to try making some pizza," you answer, entirely focused on the task in front of you. "i saw a tutorial on tiktok. seemed simple enough."

xavier hums, burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggle, feeling him inhale deeply. it's the quiet and domestic moments like these that make you imagine another life where you and xavier aren't hunters. just people free from the constant dangers of hunting wanderers and protecting civilians. you sigh, reaching across the counter for the tomato sauce. at the end of the day, you and xavier are evolvers. having an innate ability means protecting those who can't protect themselves, even if it means risking your lives. but, both you and xavier can agree the look of relief on people's faces when reuniting with their loved ones is worth the risk.

the tomato sauce is within reach until you jump back into place. why? oh, because xavier's right hand is inching towards the waistband of your panties. "xavier!" you turn around immediately, facing him with widened eyes and flushed cheeks. "what are you doing?!"

you've had enough. the last couple of weeks have been a literal hell with how much your boyfriend's been teasing you, filling your head with dirty thoughts, and acting as if he doesn't know what he's doing. it's as if he's purposely avoiding following through with his actions, not giving you what you fucking want even though he's the one that's been initiating things. not to mention, his hand is still in your pants.

xavier rests his left hand on the counter, pinning you in place. your breath hitches, feeling him rest his forehead on yours. "i'm sorry," he sulks. "i just wanted to touch your belly button."

"stop lying," you say immediately. "last time i checked, my belly button is NOT at my fucking panties." you don't care if you sound harsh. you want xavier to answer for his crimes—crimes being leaving you hanging and making you question your sanity.

xavier chuckles. this motherfucker he dares to chuckle while you look at him with furrowed brows and twisted lips. "it's not funny," you scold. "you've been weird the last few weeks-"

your breath hitches as xavier dips the tips of his fingers past your waistband. holy fucking shit. what is this man doing?! "x-xavier?!"

he doesn't answer. instead, he presses short yet sensual kisses all over your face, slowly trailing down to your neck. you try to stop yourself from whimpering.

"you know," xavier mumbles. "i've been waiting for you to say something." he continues to mouth at your neck, causing you to squirm.

"s-say what?" you ask trembling. fuck, you think you just felt his tongue peak out.

"oh, i don't know," he switches to the other side of your neck. "something like 'xavier please' or 'xavier more'" and with that, he returns both of his hands to your waist, lifts you up effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, and dives straight into your lips.

"xavier! mmph!" there was flour on the counter, meaning there was flour on your pants now. "you're making mmph! a mess!"

"that's not what i want to hear, starlight," xavier shakes his head as he pulls away from you. "it's like you want me to stop."

his fingers rub slow circles into your thighs, causing you to writhe uncontrollably. so this is why he's been acting so fucking teasing the last few weeks. he wanted to do things with you—take your relationship to the next level. but you had to be the one to say it. why? you're not sure. maybe it stroked his ego or something. you don't care anymore. you're pent up from xavier's antics, and all you want right now is for him to follow through. if saying "please" and "more" is what it takes, so be it.

you grab xavier's shirt collar, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him to you. his eyes widen at your sudden rough actions. but there's a hint of amusement in his eyes, teetering on the edge between curiosity and arousal. though nothing could prepare xavier for what you do next.

"xavier," you whisper into his ear, stroking his nape with your index finger. "can you please give me more?"

xavier inhales sharply, his grip tightening around your thighs.

"i thought you'd never ask, starlight."