#like he holds her and she seems so sweet and delicate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecoochiefairy · 1 month ago

Text

lovesick. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.1K. word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, countryboycoded! toji, sweet!toji,dominant!toji, makeup sex, drunk sex, balcony sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin��, creaming, squirting, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ listen, don’t cuss me out. it seems like most of y’all didn’t really fuck w/ the snake wrangler, but i did. so this is for the people that did love it, and wanted to tie up the loose ends. :)

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: song is switch a nigga out, by summer walker.

A PROMINENT FLORAL AROMA WITH A MIXTURE OF GRAPE HUGGED HER NOSE. It was entirely too early for her to be drinking, but she was dying to know her sister’s opinion on the new wine she’d bought, mixing it with orange juice to create her own customized mimosa.

She dropped a pink hibiscus flower within the tall glass, turning with a small smile as she handed it out, “Here you are, madam—I trust your tongue on the taste of Moscato—don’t fail me now.”

“Tuh, I got this!”

She took the glass delicately, bringing it to her lips. Drinking a bit of the orange and pink liquid, she swirls it around her tongue before swallowing it down, letting the flavors sink into her taste buds. She smacks her lips together a couple of times, twisting the glass around in her hand fancily.

“Mm, I can taste the floral tinge from the hibiscus with a dash of grapes. It’s a nice balance of both bitter and sweet. You ate that!”

“I told you it would taste good!” Stoney gives a smile, taking her piece of avocado bread, biting down into it as this was her breakfast.

She then asks, “Now, remind me again why you aren’t participating in Sai’s career day at school, Ms. I Bake Decorative cakes for a living?”

Serena took another drink of her Mimosa before letting out a sigh, biting down on a piece of her own Avocado bread. She let out a soft hum before speaking, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back in her seat.

“You know I hate talking in front of people. What about you, bitch? You own a whole pottery studio! Don’t you think that would’ve been cool to show the kids?”

“Do you know how expensive a pound of pottery clay is? I love Sai’s lil’ besties, but I’m not wasting my shit on some bad ass kids,” she shakes her head, “You’re just lazy. Could’ve made them kids a damn Paw-Patrol cake and let them smash it. God don’t like ugly.”

“Well I don’t know how he had our mom birth you then, extra terrestrial. Don’t piss me off— where’s your daughter at before I smack you?”

Stoney holds back her laugh as she teases, “Ooh, you’re mad. But she’s upstairs, getting herself ready. I did her hair and stuff, I told her she could be responsible for picking her outfit, I just hope she doesn’t come downstairs with two left shoes on and her shirt backwards.”

Serena snickered at the thought, shaking her head as she drank her mimosa again, glancing at the stairs.

“You know if she does, that’s on you for letting her pick out her own outfit.”

“That’s fine! That’s my baby, and she tried!”

As she was finishing her sentence, the sound of footsteps came down the stairs towards the kitchen, both women turning their heads to see Sai. She actually hadn’t done bad at all, it was an event at school, so they were told to dress up. Her soft midnight black hair was slicked back into miniature pigtails, edges swirled along her forehead and finger curled ponytails in between the rubber bands beneath her alabaster bows. She wore a shimmering pink dress, glittered at the top, tulle starting at her chest and to her ankles, her ballerina flats matching her bows, socks having ruffled lace along the ankle part.

Stoney gasps, pressing her hands against her face as she greets, “Hi, baby!” Smiling from ear to ear at her five year old, “You look so pretty—You dressed yourself so well!”

Sai grins to herself, giggling softly as she does a little spin for her mom, showing off the pretty tulle of her dress as it swayed around.

“You think I look pretty, mommy?”

Stoney goes over to her, picking her up and placing her along her hip as she usually did, “So good, my love. Such a good job, hm? I’m so proud of you.”

Sai grins from ear to ear, wrapping her tiny little arms around her mother, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. She lifts her head up to look at her aunt Serena, waving a hand at her.

“Tee-Tee ‘Rena’—did I do a good job?” She questions, Serena chuckling and approaching the two. Just like an aunt, she had her camera out, recording her niece in awe, snapping a thousand pictures.

“Tee-Tee’s baby did so well! You’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

Sai then turns, her big doe eyes—something she’d definitely gotten from her father—blinking at her mother as she conveniently questions, “Is daddy still coming today?”

There it was, the question she wished she could avoid. Her and Nathaniel had been divorced for about six months, separated even before that, and she constantly tried to shield Sai from the absence of her father—she had the unfortunate job of reminding her child what disappointment was.

She tried not to allow her face to drop as she said, “No, baby. Daddy said he had to work today, so he won’t be coming, okay? I’m sorry.”

Serena awkwardly rubbed sisters shoulder, knowing she hated the face her daughter made each time she was given that news. This was a normal occurrence now, everytime Sai asked about her father, he’d be busy.

“Who the hell wants to see a weak ass fuckin’ stock broker anyways. What he gon’ do? Teach the kids how to rob, cheat, steal their money?” Serena smacked her lips, Stoney giving a warning as she briefly murmurs, “Serena.”

Serena pushes off her anger at her ex-brother in law, “My bad. But hey, my lil’ Sai-Sai. Me and your mommy will be there with you and all your friends, and I made cupcakes with extrraa sprinkles!”

“And, Daddy will be here this weekend to pick you up so you can go Christmas shopping with him, yeah?” Stoney adds in, kissing her daughter’s soft cheek multiple times to cheer her up.

Sai was now back to her excited and happy self, giggling when her mother showered her with kisses. The thought of her daddy bringing her shopping was exciting, the thought of spending time with him in general, made the young girl happy.

“Can we get presents for you too, mommy?”

“Yeah. Tell the bastard I need thirty bands in the bank right now,” Serena says, Stoney flicking her arm as she interrupts that, “Of course, baby. A little card with your name on it would be beautiful for mommy. You’ ready to go? We don’t wanna be late!”

Sai nodded her head enthusiastically, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. She hopped down from her mother’s arms, putting her tiny hands in her mom and aunts palms, walking with the two to the front door. This was all Stoney needed—the happiness from her daughter.

It didn’t matter if she had to be the only one that created that for her—almost having to be the mother and father, essentially—but it didn’t matter. She’d always work twice as hard to provide for Sai. Even if that meant taking her business and turning it into a small pottery studio, having classes three times out the week, allowing people to learn the creations she taught herself. It worked for her.

They placed the cupcakes for her class within the trunk, Stoney’s Lexus NX 350 pushing down the road as she made her way towards the school building.

“What did that dumbass nigga come up with as an excuse this time?” Serena questions, turning the air up on her side of the passenger seat, not wanting to ask the question, but she was always curious.

Stoney keeps her hand along the wheel, glancing at the mirrors beside her as she switches lanes, “Said he had a client. I didn’t say too much after that.”

Stoney’s lips form a thin line, sighing to herself. It was always the same thing every time he said he wouldn’t be able to make it with Sai. Work, clients, clients, meetings, meetings. She honestly wondered when it would just stop. It was always some excuse, always something more important than her. Always.

“I bet the bitch still wanna play house with you. He probably misses you.”

“I wouldn’t care if he offered me the entire world to get back with him,” Stoney briefly says, turning the wheel with one hand, “I just want him to be there for Sai, even if that means explaining what stock-broking is to a bunch of five-year olds. It would’ve been boring, but it would’ve meant something for her, y’know?”

Serena nods her head, crossing her arms against her chest. She turns in her seat, looking back at her niece, who was preoccupied with Bubble Guppies on her mini IPad, eyes glittering in a mix of childish happiness and innocence.

“She’d be way better if she didn’t have a sorry ass dad like him. She’s got you though, you’re doing an amazing job. And you have me. That nigga could turn into a dry-ass Popeyes biscuit.”

“You’d still eat him, huh? Hungry ass.”

“…Maybe. Actually, damn right! And I’d take three days to shit him out, you know I be’ constipated.”

“You’re stupid,” Stoney sighs, a soft laugh pulling at that.

“That’s fine, better than the biscuit man. Not that you need a man, but a step-daddy for Sai wouldn’t hurt.”

And at that comment, Stoney decides to say nothing at all, pulling into the school's parking lot. She can see other parents with their children, some of the children dressed in different uniforms from firefighters, chefs, to even small suits, their parents looking to be dressed in their actual work outfits. It was a full on event.

They were guided towards the Kindergarten wing, a door that separated off into an entirely different section that was a lot smaller than what the other grades had to deal with. Stoney and Serena greeted Sai’s teacher, placing the desserts they’d made for her class in the back where everything else sat, Sai giving her mom one last hug as she sat on the carpet with her friends. All the other parents began piling in, a couple unfamiliar faces also standing in the front of the class. It was a man dressed in scrubs, a female police officer, and another man who seemed to be some type of military profession.

Stoney picked up the bright yellow paper that titled the event of today, looking up as she said softly to her sister, “Hm, I didn’t know they’d have extra guests come and speak today. I guess you didn’t have to sign up for it.”

“I guess not,” Serena shrugs her shoulders. She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the unknown men. She then turns to her sister, a sly smile pulling at her lips.

“Some of them are pretty cute, you have your pick. The doctor, the police officer, or the military? Who’d you choose?” She teases, lightly shoving Stoney’s shoulders with a laugh.

Stoney shakes her head, “Who would you pick, desperate?”

“I’m not desperate,” Serena exclaims quietly, rolling her eyes. She looks at each one of the men again, biting her lip as she tries to decide. After a second, she points at the doctor with his clipboard.

“I love a nigga in scrubs. Mhm, although I’m sure he’ married. Honestly—If he puts me up in a condo, I might be able to get over his wife and kids.”

“You’re terrible, you know that?”

“Terrible? Meh. Smart? Correct,” Serena grins, watching the teacher as she begins speaking.

The teacher smiles at the room of parents and kids as they all sit quietly, a small giggle leaving her lips. Each child was going to get the chance to talk about their ‘dream job’ and what they wanted to be when they got older. The special guests would also have an opportunity to explain their job, educating the children in addition to that. As the presentation begins, each kid around the room holds a paper, showing a drawing of what they wanted to be and why. It was an adorable sight, some of them saying fairies, ninjas, assassins, jobs you’d expect a child to say. Then, it was Sai’s turn.

Stoney was easily emotional, she knew that. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry when her daughter stood up there to present her career choice, Serena holding up her phone to record as the five year old held what looked to be her butterfly shaped pottery dish she’d made.

“My name's Sai, and I wanna be like my mommy when I grow up!”

The little girl held up the dish—which had pink butterflies, along with the letters ‘S’ and ‘S’ drawn on it—with a smile on her face, showing it off to the rest of the room as she continued, “My mommy makes all these pretty plates and other cool stuff. It makes people happy, so I wanna make people happy. My mommy is like a superhero!”

The teacher smiled at her, “That’s wonderful, Sai. Your dish is beautiful.”

Stoney’s heart had nearly melted inside of her body, and she wanted to crocodile cry. She loved nothing more in this world than her baby girl.

“All right, we’ll now be moving onto our guests—“

A knock on the door interrupts the teacher's words, the door opening before she could make her way over to it. As Stoney turned her attention like everyone else, it seemed like time stopped—Just to her unamusement. Just to laugh in her damn face.

He almost had to hunch to come within the classroom, as the ceiling was low, but he was big—his shoulders broad, flexing muscles stretching along his back under the dark long sleeve he wore. His full and dark pink lips, scar cutting through his mouth dangerously, scarily straight teeth made by the devil himself. Dark eyebrows that furrowed as he walked in, sable hair all complimenting his cream skin, littering in tattoos that she knew he had.

She could imagine the serpent that slithered around his arm, the same one that clutched her hair within his veined palm. And then—those eyes. Those grey eyes poured into her senses, picking up her melting heart and having it drop completely out of her body.

Toji fucking Fushiguro.

Her sister's phone that was previously held up slowly dropped down, looking towards her younger sister who could’ve gone into cardiac arrest at this very moment.

She muttered, “Oh hell.”

Has he gotten bigger? Taller? Sexier? Why couldn’t he have just become ugly all of a sudden?

His voice was almost unrecognizable to her, deep, assertive as his first words were, “I’m sorry. Did I miss the special guest presentation?”

Stoney’s eyes were practically popping out of her sockets at the sight of the man—who she thought she’d never see again. And yet, there he was. Toji Fushiguro, standing in all his tall dark glory. She was practically about to have a heart attack.

The teacher smiles, shaking her head and waving a hand, “No, not at all. You’re actually just in time. Come on up. Class, this is another guest of ours, this is Mr. Fushiguro, he’s a Snake Wrangler.”

The kids cheered at the title—snake wrangler was such a unique and thrilling name to them. But to Stoney, it was like hearing her worst nightmare. She hadn’t seen this man in two months. Since he’d helped her move into her house, since he’d fucked her, cared for her in ways a man in years couldn’t care for her in the way he did in one night.

And to her luck, Sai instantly recognizes the tall man, running up to him as she wraps her arms along his leg, squealing, “Mr. Snake Man!”

She wished at this moment that Sai wasn’t so damn outgoing—or that maybe this was her personal hell, and it was only a nightmare. Her dark brown eyes widened, her jaw almost dropping open.

A blind person could sense how attractive he was, even the teacher giving him a look. She collects herself, smiling at Sai, “You know him, sweetie?”

“Uh-huh! He’s mommy’s friend!” Sai exclaims, her little tiny hands wrapped around his thick, muscular leg.

In that instant, it’s like the entire class looks back towards Stoney, which causes him to look at her. Yup, she was going to faint. She was going to black out.

“Hey, pretty girl. I missed you,” Toji picks Sai up for a moment, pulling her into a hug that makes the small child giggle before placing her back down.

Stoney was red. Her brown skin was flushed at the situation, unable to even speak. Her heart was racing. He was staring.

She was practically unable to move, unable to function, unable to breathe. Her dark brown eyes staring back into his storm grey ones, unable to break contact. What the hell was he even doing here? This was not the place to run into your one night stand after two months of disappearance.

The teacher’s voice came in again, “It’s wonderful to have you here, Mr. Fushiguro. Why don’t you find a seat until it’s time for your presentation?”

He gives a nod, politely smiling as she guides him to a small stool they’d brought for the guests to sit out in front of the group. He sits there now, sitting in that damn school-sized-stool that looked like it would break at any second, his palm clutching what looked to be a travel terrarium.

Nothing was louder than Stoney’s thoughts. She now felt extremely insecure in the top she wore, showing off her midriff, her cargos and fuzzy boots, jade green glasses perched atop of her freckled nose, straight hair lazily pulled behind her face in a matching claw clip.

Serena was having the best time out of anyone there, watching as her poor sister looked like she was going to burst into tears. Stoney knew if she looked next to her, she was going to punch Serena in the face. He couldn’t help but stare at her—she was the prettiest thing to him. Something in his scar twitched at the sight of her glasses, and those freckles he seemed to memorize all those months ago.

He looked over her body once more, watching her bite at her brown lined lips, how her cheeks were naturally blushed.

God, he missed her.

“And for our final presenter, everyone give a warm welcome for Mr. Fushiguro!” The teacher ignites clapping throughout the classroom, women gawking, men watching his every move. He was like an alien that’d just come down to earth.

The children cheered and clapped, their eyes looking up at him as he stood from the stool, which was somehow holding up his 200+ pound ass. He stands there, intimidating aura practically surrounding him without needing any effort.

“Well, I’m a Snake Wrangler, or a snake catcher, meaning I help capture reptiles that might be in places they shouldn’t be. In your neighborhood, your backyard, maybe even in your toilet,” which makes the class giggle, but nothing was funny to Stoney at this moment.

A kid within the front of the class raises his hands, speaking anyway before he is called to ask the question, “Have you been bitten before?”

Toji chuckled, the question amusing him, but he answered anyway, “I have. Quite a few times actually. Mostly from smaller snakes. It’s not that bad, just uncomfortable and a little scary if it’s from a bigger one.”

The class ‘ooed’ at the answer. Another kid spoke up, “Can we see?”

He smirked, holding up his arm, where there were indeed a few circular shaped scars on his olive skin. All of them seemed shocked, like it was some cool thing. Except Stoney. Who knew what those scars felt like on his skin.

He then places the terrarium on the desk, his broad back facing the classroom for a brief second—making Stoney’s insides throb,imagining her fingers clawing at his back, whining into his ear.

She blinks, wanting to bang her head against the wall to knock sense into herself, hearing his voice as he asks, “Now, who wants to hold a snake?”

Maybe Stoney wasn’t alone in the fear that struck against the classroom, but her fears were entirely different. She expected at least one child to volunteer, yet they all sit with wide eyes, seeing as a yellow reptile slithers around his arm, finding comfort in the material of his top.

“This is Lily,” he introduces, “She’s a ball python. Her color might look a little scary, but she’s the sweetest. She loves to cuddle, and she says her favorite show is SpongeBob,” which makes the class giggle, the parents amused at his words.

A student calls out, “She can’t talk, she’s a snake!”

“She talks to me all the time!” He defends, “She’s just nervous to see all you new people, takes her a while to get comfortable enough.”

The kids laugh at the statement, even Stoney having to hold back a weak laugh, watching how easy he was with them. He allowed the snake to slither up his arm, up until she made her way to his neck, locking around his throat as he adds, “This is her favorite place to sleep. They like where it’s warm.”

Stoney was more focused on the way that damn snake slid across his muscular arm and shoulders. It unfairly fit him—made him look even hotter somehow.

But the thought of the snake touching her—it made her shiver. The fact that she was still standing here watching, it was definitely a sense of growth, something she might’ve been able to thank him for.

The kids seemed intrigued by the animal, even more when Toji carefully picked one child to hold the snake. The girl was clearly nervous, but when she was holding the reptile, she had the biggest smile on her face.

“The main thing I want you guys to understand,” Toji continued his presentation, “Is that snakes are just tryna’ survive. They’re more scared of you than you are of them. They just want to eat and lay down somewhere warm, nothing more.”

She could feel his eyes on her, and she knew that the second this presentation was over, he was going to come over there to talk.

Not gonna happen.

So the moment she heard the teacher say, “Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro, you’ve been amazing!” She beelined for the bathroom as everyone began clapping, hiding within the stalls until Serena confirmed that he was already gone.

She nearly had to fan herself, giving her baby girl a kiss before making her way out of the building with her sister, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers of her bed and scream.

When they got into the car, Serena held a hand over her mouth, giving her sister a couple of minutes as she said, “Can I laugh? I’m finna’ laugh. I’m so sorry, shawty.”

“Shut up,” Stoney grumbles, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as she sped back to her place.

“And you rushed to the bathroom like you were gonna throw up. That’s a damn shame.”

“Shut up,” she repeated again, rolling her eyes as her sister continued laughing, “I was embarrassed.”

“Why you’ being weird anyways? Y’all not fucking or something?”

Stoney blows out a breath. She then admits, “I haven’t spoken to Toji in two months.”

Serena’s jaw practically drops to the floor of the car. She’s shocked into being speechless for a good thirty seconds before blurting out, “Two months? Ain’t no way you haven’t tried to reach out.”

“I thought it’d be letting him down easier that way.”

“For someone who says they hate when people just cut them off without any explanation, you sure went and did the same. You know how lame you look?”

She narrows her eyes, “I have my reasons, Serena. I didn’t just stop talking to him for the fuck of it.”

Serena gives her, “Oh yeah? Then what’s your reason?” She turns her whole body to look at her, her arms still crossed, waiting to hear what she says.

Now thinking of the reasons she was going to say, maybe she was starting to feel a little stupid. The moment Toji left that morning after, he asked about seeing her again and she told him she was busy— she stopped picking up his calls or even responding to his messages.

She exhaled as she responded, “I’m busy with the studio and Sai. I don’t have time for some kiddy ass puppy crush.”

Serena looked at her in disbelief, “You can’t be for real. You spend all of your time with Sai if she isn’t at school, you work from home, and the studio is open three times out of the week. This heartless front you’re tryna’ put on? Doesn’t suit you.”

“Well how would you feel if the man that helped you move your stuff into your ex-husbands house listens to your sob story, makes you feel like you matter, and then fucks you so good that you tell him to cum inside of you after only knowing him for forty-eight hours? I feel stupid. Maybe I was just vulnerable, and he was just horny.”

“You let that man cum inside you?”

“That’s not the point of what I just said, Serena.”

Her younger sister's eyes were an expressway to her heart, she could never lie about her emotions. She seemed to have built a wall between herself and everyone. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white and trembling, her lips pursing.

There were a million things Serena could say to her at this moment, but instead she asked, “Why do you feel stupid?”

She pulls into her driveway, parking as she sits on that thought. She knew why, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that to herself. She hated being as emotional as she was, wearing her entire heart on her sleeve.

She pulls her hair behind her ear, “I let him in too quickly, I didn’t even know him, Serena. I have a daughter, and I’m a grown ass woman. I can’t just be fucking niggas and thinking they’re in love with me.”

Serena looked at her, almost seeing herself in her younger sister as she said, “Love at first sight seems like a fairytale, I’m well aware of that. I know you’re an adult and you have a daughter, but you ain’t dead, girl. You can live a little—you should live a little more.”

Serena reaches out and places a hand on Stoney’s shoulder, saying, “You haven’t been yourself since you and Nathaniel’s split. So what’s really the deeper issue?”

Goddammit. The question makes her eyes turn away from her sister, looking forward to her condo, the sight of it becoming blurry in her eyes.

She quickly sniffles as she drags her palm along her cheek, hating that she was crying. Her voice was hoarse as she admitted, “I just feel stupid. A man I knew for two days showed me an affection I never got from my own husband…” She presses her hands to her face, “I just…I’ve been wasting so much time…and I h—hate myself for it…”

The sound of her crying hurt Serena in ways she couldn’t describe. Seeing her younger sister like this, knowing how much emotional weight she carried, it didn’t feel fair to her. No one should have to feel that way.

“Dammit bitch, got me crying too,” she lightly laughed while sniffling, her own tears forming in her eyes, “You’re not stupid for falling a little too hard. That dumbass baby daddy of yours never deserved you in the first place. Fuck that meat head. The only good thing that came from that was Sai, this condo, and your booming business. You’re blessed, baby girl. Know that. And now you have a man trying to fill that emptiness you don’t need, but deserve. Let him show you a love you didn’t have in a place you should’ve. Give him that opportunity.”

She takes in her sister’s words. She didn’t need any man’s love, but if it was genuine, it didn’t hurt to open herself up again. She sinks deeper into her older sister, needing her comfort as she says softly, “I love you.”

Serena smiles against her skin, holding her close as she says, “Ahh, you’re always a little cry baby when you’re sad. But I love you more. And if this man breaks your heart, Imma’ break his skull. So stop crying. You’re ruining my makeup, and I have a date tonight.”

She pulls her head up, “Wasn’t you just saying you wanted that doctor's number at the Career Day? Now you got a date?”

She smacks her lips, waving it off as she says, “Do you doubt me as a bitch who can get any nigga she wants? That’s my date, girl! I got his number. Foine ass doctor, let me tell you.”

Here we go again.

Stoney felt a little better as the next day came. It was one of her favorite days out of the week, being within her studio and helping others enjoy a session. She had different packages—Pottery and Paint, Pottery and Pot/Smoking, Pottery and Sip— she enjoyed each session, and always was received well by her customers. She loved her studio, SAI’S, sign illuminating pink at the top of the building. It was minimalistic within the inside, honey pine wood tables and walls, plants hung along the ceiling, easels and workstations scattered within the workshop. This was her second home.

Today in particular was a children’s birthday party, having the children all along the table with mats, mushing their creations into anything they wanted and painting over it. She had Sai participating with them, as she was in the studio with her today to be picked up by her father for the next week or so, spending time with him before Christmas. She knew her daughter was excited, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to him coming to her place of sanctuary.

A small smile came along her face as she continued to lead, “Okay, so you’re gonna take your clay and roll it into a little burrito—but don’t eat it! It’ll make you very sick,” she dramatically rubs her stomach, making the children giggle, “Can I see everyone make a burrito for me?”

This was her peace of mind, being surrounded by all things she loved. Her baby girl’s giggle, the sound of clay, paint brushes and paint. It was all something she could immerse herself in.

As the session came to an end, she said her goodbyes to the children and parents, beginning to clean off the tables and unused supplies, feeling herself becoming a bit tired from the day.

“Alright, muffin. I need you to go and clean up in the bathroom, so you can look all nice and pretty for Daddy, okay?” She says to Sai, pulling her out of the chair she placed her in, “You need any help from mommy?”

“I’ll be okay!”

As she continued to clean up the supplies, she heard the bell atop of her door jingling, and inhaled a deep breath. Her eyes met with her ex-husband, caramel skin, hazel eyes, waves upon his head. He was wearing a suit, assuming he was coming from work.

When she goes to politely greet him, the first thing he does is look around, raising an eyebrow as he says, “So this is where all my child support money is going, huh?”

And just like that, her good mood was ruined. She reaches over to grab the Hello Kitty duffle that had all of her daughter’s necessities, reaching it towards him as she dismisses, “Your daughter has her Christmas list in her bag, Nathan. She also needs new shoes, she’s beginning to grow out of her old ones.”

He reaches for the bag, his hand touching hers for a moment. His eyes drift down towards her tattoos on her forearms, before they look down towards her chest, as she wears a soft green tracksuit set, where her zipper was dipping a bit low.

“You’ still fucking that mover?”

Her neck nearly broke as she was taken aback by the question, her face remaining stoic and unwavering. Instead of getting upset, she pulls the bag back towards herself as she dismisses, “Do you know what shoe size Sai is?”

He doesn’t seem phased by her not responding to the question, leaning himself against the wall as he shoves a hand into his pocket, “She’s a ten in kids, I’m well aware of my daughter’s shoe size.”

His eyes once again stroll down her body, “Small feet like her mom.”

“Congratulations on knowing that,” she flatly says, “Sai’s just washing her hands. She’ll be out in a second.”

He pushes himself off of the wall as he walks towards the table, sitting himself down, “So this is where you spend the money you got from the divorce, huh? Painting mugs and ashtrays?”

“It’s a good profit to take care of Sai,” she tells him, “She enjoys it here just as much as I do.”

He laughs, leaning back into his chair, “Well at least she’s enjoying it,” He says, before adding, “Because I know I’m sure as hell not paying for you to sit around and play with clay all damn day.”

She blinks at him, before she turns around and goes back to her cleaning. She really didn’t give a fuck about his conversation right now.

She then hears his mouth open again, “I’ll be bringing Sai back a day early, me and my fiancé are going out of town for Christmas.”

That however makes her halt. She turns her head as she frowns, “What?”

“I’m taking a trip with my girl for Christmas. Gonna show her a nice time. We’re gonna be in Florida, in the keys.”

“You’re engaged six months after our divorce?” Her frown becomes deeper, “I haven’t even been out of the house for three months.”

He rolls his eyes, “We’ve been separated since last holiday. I’ve been with her since before you moved out, and I proposed to her three months ago. She’s my future. What, you expecting me to be pining over your miserable ass?”

She could take a lot of his beatings. But this particular conversation was viscerally pissing her off. She turned to fully look at him, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “Who the fuck is miserable?”

He stands to his feet and crosses his arms, “You’ve been sulking over being a single mom since we’ve been separated. I’d actually be surprised if you kept the next nigga you’re fucking on. You’re pathetic. Why do you think you’re here, playing with paint and clay in a tiny ass studio?”

His words were hitting her harder than she expected them to. Saying these harsh things to herself was one thing, but hearing them from the person that caused most of her misery was deafening. She hated that she was about to cry. But this was anger, and she wanted to become violent.

She takes the duffle bag that holds her daughter’s items, chucking it at him as she spits, “You can wait for Sai in the car. Get the fuck out.”

He catches the bag, the items in it falling out in the process. He laughs, “It’s like you never even left the house,” He walks closer to her, “You think you’d be less of a miserable bitch after two months on your own.”

“You sound like an ignorant ass nigga right now. I’d advise you to back up before I put you in between this fuckin’ table and work station,” she threatens, uncaring if tears were coming in her eyes. Her hands were shaking.

“Your new nigga gave you some balls or something? Now you’ can talk to me crazy?”

She was entirely too angry to see anything else at this moment. So angry that she didn’t even hear the bell jingle atop of her studio, Nathaniel in the way of the door.

Her eyes peer into the doorway, seeing Toji standing there, eyes immediately narrowed, clutching his fist along the bouquet of flowers he holds.

“You’ good?”

The question echoes in her mind, almost like a replay of a situation they had before. She blinks in between the both of them as she says, “I’m fine—“

“You know I wasn’t asking you, Stoney.”

He tries to be as respectful as possible when it comes to her ex-husband for the sake of Sai, but walking in to see him standing over her, he couldn’t hold his mouth this time.

Before she can give a reaction, Toji drops the flowers within his hand, his face nearly able to burn the skin off of Nathaniel as he continues, “Nah, fuck that.”

He’s fast, incredibly fast as he’s already making his way towards Nathan, which makes Stoney’s eyes go wide, panicked as she flies around him to grip Toji’s arm, not expecting him to have this reaction.

She holds him as she confirms, “I’m fine, okay? I’m fine,” she confirms, only wanting to diffuse the situation.

Toji knocks his head down to look at her. He looks back up at Nathaniel, who’s still standing there with a look of annoyance on his face, but something else within his eyes. Hesitance.

His jaw clenched as he relaxed a bit, her touch feeling like it’d been forever, almost wanting to thank himself for the cause.

“I’m good.”

Thankfully, Sai appears, seeing her father as she greets, “Daddy!” Excited to see him, jumping up within his arms.

Toji looks down at the child, his features instantly softening as he sees the girl in her father’s arms. Seeing her cheerful smile, she had no idea of the tension in the room.

Nathan gives her a soft kiss on the head, “Hey, baby girl. You’ ready to do some Christmas shopping?”

“Yeah!” Sai says with a big smile, her arms going around his neck for a hug.

Stoney clears her throat as she gently pulls Sai in to kiss her cheek, leaning down to quickly pick up her stuff that's fallen out of the duffle she’d chucked at Nathaniel, “Let Daddy take pictures of you, okay? I wanna see you having fun with him. And call me if you need anything, okay?”

Sai smiles at her mom, and nods in reply, giving her a little wave, “Okay, mommy! Love you!”

Toji watches as Stoney gives her daughter attention, seeing her pick up the items on the floor. He leans down, picking the stuff up with her, taking the bag out of her hand as he reaches it out to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel is still just glaring at Toji, who was waiting patiently for a reaction. Nothing. No talking goes into Nathan taking the bag from him.

Sai’s sweet voice waves, “Bye, Mr. Snake Man!” as they exit out of the studio.

Toji gives the kid a little wave, and puts on a small grin. When they exit completely, his jaw finally unclenches, taking in the sight of Stoney. It was like seeing her again for the first time.

“You okay?”

He looks down at her fingers, watching how they shake from the previous situation. She’d been crying. Toji brings a palm up, grabbing her hand, unable to stop himself from just wanting to comfort her.

“I’m fine.”

“Quit lying to me.”

She pulls her hand away, “What’s with the flowers? How’d you even know about the studio?”

He wants to re-clench his jaw from her pull away. This was his second time seeing her in two months, and she still had her walls up.

“You ran off on me at career day. I didn’t know Sai went to school there.”

“Well—you know now,” she dismisses, turning as she begins cleaning up the rest of her studio. She can feel him following behind her, even beginning to pick up items himself to help her clean.

He continues, “Serena told me about the studio before I left career day. I ended up asking Sai if she needed more flowers in her garden, she said you had pulled some of the Hibiscus’. So—I thought you needed some more,” he takes the bouquet off the table, reaching them towards her.

Her eyes narrow down at the flowers, “Fucking Serena. Of course,” she presses her tongue within her cheek, turning away to gather the mats off the table.

His dark grey eyes don’t leave her, watching as she walks around, trying to keep herself composed. When she refuses to take the flowers, he takes them back, setting them on the table, but not taking his eyes from her.

“You gonna cut your sister off for giving me the name of your studio?”

“Serena couldn’t hold water in a bucket if a gun was to her head,” she retorts, scanning his attire, his overalls and wife beater showing he must’ve been at work, “I don’t need the flowers.”

“Are you upset about what I said to Nathaniel?”

She sighs, halting her steps, “Toji. I didn’t need you to play bodyguard. I can fight my own battles with him.”

Toji leans his forearms down on the table, veins flexing as he watches her pause her steps, finally looking him in the eyes again.

“I know you can handle your own battles with him. I know. But he’s a fuckin’ prick. Needs his fuckin’ skull bashed in, I see the way he makes you feel. He hurts your feelings.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. He then says, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryna impose.”

“Well you did. Why are you here, Toji?”

“I miss you.”

She now raises both eyebrows, “You had two months to get over me. I think you’ll survive.”

“I can’t. So now what?”

She looks up at him, tilting her head slightly as she says, “Look, you did your big one, okay? Let me give you my sob story about my past relationship, fucked me, but we’re both grown as fuck. You don’t know me, and you enjoyed yourself. Why can’t we just leave it there?”

“That’s what you think? That I just wanted to fuck you?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. But I have a life to make for myself and my child, I’m not tryna bring you into my bullshit. Seeing what just happened was enough to understand that.”

He comes even closer to her, feeling his body temperature rising, his eyes not leaving hers.

“You think I’m gonna let you write me off that easily? You think I can’t handle whatever you throw at me? Like I’m weak or some shit?”

“I never said you were weak.”

She feels her own body wanting to pull closer to him. Her heart thumps in her chest as she tilts her head up to look at him, able to smell his scent.

He then says to her, “My birthday’s coming up.”

She gives him a fake smile, patting his arm as she says, “Hm, Happy early birthday then. Hopefully you can find some girl to bounce her ass on you,” she goes around him, focusing back on picking up the work mats.

“I’m cool off that, I’d rather you be the one bouncing your ass on me.”

She scoffs, huffing as she turns towards him, “Why are you still here?”

“I want you.”

“Okay?”

He moves as she moves, refusing to let the space between them become too much. His eyes follow her as she tries to go around him, his scarred lip twitching.

She raises an eyebrow, “Is something funny?”

“You’ not even gonna ask me what I’m doing for my birthday?”

She sighs, pausing her movements again.

“What are you doing for your birthday, Fushiguro?”

“Taking you wherever you wanna go. You deserve a real date.”

“Toji.”

He raises an eyebrow as she says his name like that, clearly frustrated with him.

“What? You’ done being stubborn now?”

“I’m tired of playing chicken with you.”

“So tell me where you wanna go then.”

She squints, letting out a sigh as she begins to walk past him, sarcastic as she says, “I’ve always wanted to see Rome, Italy for Christmas. It looks beautiful there.”

“Rome, huh?”

His eyes watch her ass as she walks past him, wanting to follow her anywhere she went.

“I’ve heard the food is good as fuck, too. I’ll book the tickets tonight. You’ got three days to pack.”

Her entire body halts. She turns towards him as he begins walking out of the studio, “I was joking, Toji.”

When he’s still walking, she begins following after him, feet scrambling to catch up with his large strides as she alarmingly repeats, “I was joking!”

He then turns back to her, jaw clenching as he says, “I’m about to be thirty-three, Stoney. Imma’ grown ass man. Do you think I’m playing about you?”

She steps back a bit, hearing the seriousness in his tone. She then says, “I think you’re hard headed as fuck.”

“You can cuss me out on the plane. You’ need my card to go shopping?”

She quickly says, “No,” as he’s already pulling it from his wallet, ready to hand it to her.

He raises an eyebrow in response, “What, money scares you too? Damn, I thought it was just snakes.”

“Funny, jackass,” she snatches the card from him, “Now you’re finna’ go bankrupt.”

He leans in closer to her, his jaw clenching as he smiles down at her—the bastard was sexy.

“I got more money than I need. I’m greedy as fuck, you know that.”

“Goodbye, Fushiguro,” she finalizes, lightly pressing his chest, backing him out of her studio.

“You sure you don't want a goodbye kiss?”

“You can kiss my ass,” she tells him, quickly pulling away as she closes the door to the studio, waving at him through the glass panel.

He raises his hand up, doing a little wave back, knowing she can see the smirk on his face through the window. She has to hold back the small smile that comes to her face as he looks almost like a child, nearly tripping as he makes his way back to his truck.

She trips as she makes her way over to her phone, going to her emergency contacts as she immediately dialed her sister's number.

“You better be dying, Stoney. I am laid up playing General Hospital, and I do mean that in the nastiest way.”

“You’ll be dying cause imma’ kill you! He’s taking me to Italy, Serena.”

“WHA—HUH?!”

𝓐ᥫ᭡

THREE DAYS OF PREPARATION WAS OVERWHELMING. She bought mostly black attire, flimsy, sexy, but she refused to admit that any of it was to get his attention. She’d even had Serena take out her sew-in—wash her hair, blow it out, and replace it with all new bundles. New makeup, shoes, even new scents of perfume. She felt ready.

She watched as he placed her two suitcases in the back of his truck, “Think you packed up your whole house?”

She sighs, “Well one is my clothes bag, the other is my hair and makeup bag.”

“Hair and makeup bag?” He repeats, “You didn’t need a whole bag full of that. You look good enough already.”

“Quit flirting. Oh—“ she pauses, pulling the dark green

Telfar off her shoulder as she reaches in, “Um—I got you your cigarettes. Thought you might’ve needed some. But you can’t smoke them on the plane, okay?” She raises the box in her hand, “The guy told me there’s organic tobacco in these.”

His eyes run up her form, taking in her frame dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants set, matching Toji’s attire accidentally. Her edges swirled along her forehead as she had in an orchid claw clip, freckled face covered by her glasses, skin coaxed by the cloying scent of her vanilla perfume.

He slowly grabs it from her fingers, inspecting the label, “Organic tobacco?” He says with a smirk, “You tryna make me healthy, now?”

“Maybe,” she says softly, “You’ ready to go?”

He looks back to her, seeing an almost doe-eyed look within her face, genuinely concerned for his health. She was cute.

“Been ready for three days, baby,” he grunts, reaching for her hand, “Come on,” opening the passenger seat of his truck, “Sure we don’t need to add your ass as a third check bag?”

“Boy, hush.”

She leans her head along the window, watching out as they pass the city. The nervousness she had was gone, but she felt…hesitant with him.

Her head came up as she saw them pulling behind the airport, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “We aren’t flying with the airport lines?”

“Nah, I chartered a private plane. Caught an alligator out of a client's backyard, said he could give me the hook up—gave me a decent price on a jet.”

Her eyes glanced at the cream colored jet, seeing as workers began making their way towards his truck as she questions, “And how decent was the price of a jet to Italy, better yet—how big was the gator?” She frowns, blinking in surprise.

He watches her eyes gaze up at the jet, looking to the workers as they approach, “Big enough. Don’t ask too many questions.”

She rolls her eyes, watching as he pulls a cigarette from the box she’d gifted him. She gives a polite smile to the workers that begin unloading his truck, opening the door as he steps out to smoke.

She comes around as she almost pouts like a child, “You said you wouldn’t smoke on the plane.”

He takes a hit from the cigarette, releasing the smoke from his mouth as he leans against the side of his truck, “Never said that shit. Plus, I thought these were supposed to be healthy for me?”

She sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He wraps his arm around her neck, pulling her forward with a chuckle as he blows out the smoke. She wasn’t used to a man being so…playful with her, making her feel like she didn’t have to be so aware and parental. She could relax.

He blows the smoke into her face to tease her, watching as her nose crinkles up and she waves a hand in front of her, attempting to disperse the toxins.

“You’re cute as fuck when you’re annoyed.”

“And you’re annoying when you’re…annoying.”

He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what you came up with?”

“I’m going to the plane!”

She begins making her way towards the jet, waving politely to the workers as they open the door for her, ignoring Toji as he calls, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!”

Pulling through the small door of the jet, the size of it made her nervous, this being her first time in one. The seats were big and luxurious, wine glasses and fruit along the small section they had holding food and drinks. She felt a bit overwhelmed at the effort he’d put in.

She sat with a space between Toji as she wanted to lay down, having her arms wrapped around her legs. But the moment they began takeoff, she frowned lightly at how fast the jet was moving, scooting herself closer to him, her anxiety now a bit on the higher scale.

“Scared?”

“What, are you gonna make fun of me cause I’m not a big fan of planes?”

“Why would I do that?” he questions, solemn to his voice. It makes her feel almost embarrassed, like she assumed something out of him.

She exhales, “My bad,” pulling her hands along her arms, feeling herself becoming colder.

“Don’t start that apologizing bullshit. You could’ve just came closer,” he mutters, grabbing her waist and pulling her close to his lap, her head now resting along his legs, his palm almost too warm as he rubs the skin between her thighs and ass.

It makes her take in a bit of breath, still trying to get used to his touch all over again. The minute he pulled the blanket from behind the chair while still rubbing her cold skin, her eyes felt heavy, and she felt extremely comforted by his touch. It wasn’t long before her lashes met with her cheeks.

He looked down at her—the way the sunlight from the window streamed off her face, her long lashes, freckles igniting from the light around her head, cascading along the skin of her shoulder, her breathing a melodic tune.

Fuck. He was becoming addicted to her all over again.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been asleep. When her eyes opened again, she noticed as her arm pulled around his stomach, face deep within his abdomen as she slept. His hand had instinctively made its way to the back of her head, stroking the back of her neck, rubbing lightly at the skin.

“You’re always so warm,” she says softly, burying her face back into his lap, “Like I have two blankets,” she hums.

He chuckled, letting his hand go from the back of her neck to her waist, his hand now rubbing her ass through her sweats as he looked down into her now opened eyes.

“You’ still tired?”

She shakes her head, “No,” then looks up, seeing as his eyes are focused along his phone, a video playing as she asks, “What you’ watching?”

“NFL highlights. I put money on the Eagles to win today. They’re losing. I’m about to flip the plane upside down.”

“Oh god, you’re already starting to act your age. Checking sports at random times of the day. Should I start calling you Grandpa?”

“You could call me something else.”

“Never mind. You’re still a child,” she rolls her eyes, “How far are we now?”

“We’re still about an hour out,” he looks back to his phone, “Why? You’ got somewhere else to be?”

“Mmm, maybe. Might find me a sexy ass Italian man and run off with him—“ he’s already leaning his face down close to hers, making her giggle as he grunts at her words, “Yeah, okay. You can run off with him if they find his body.”

The last hour before they land, he can see her becoming more comfortable with him. It’s a side of her that he hadn’t gotten to see before. She sits up, changing her entire position as she straddles his lap, pressing pecks along his jaw, wanting to touch him in any way she could. His eyes were still along his sports as she used him as her own personal playground, allowing her to pull the hairs off his arms, scratch the scalp of his hair, even plucking his eyebrows at one point. He didn’t mind any of it.

The moment they hear the pilot go over the intercom of the jet, Stoney leans over at the window, peering down at the overhead of their destination—Rome, Italy.

The sight of the overhead lights of the city, the way the sunset beamed through the sky, he could see the way her eyes lit up in awe. The moment they land, they’re met with the chauffeur as he places their bags in the trunk of the Cadillac Escalade, making their way out of the airport.

She peered out the window as they drove into the city, the roads small, bricked cement along the ground, pastel buildings and infinite amounts of greenery everywhere she looked. The vehicle glides through the crowded streets, the sounds surrounding them in a buzz. Horns were going off constantly and people walking along the sidewalks, their voices blending into a constant hum.

When they pull into the driveway of what essentially could be a villa, Toji tips the chauffeur, hopping out of the truck as he pulls their suitcases onto the ground. Stoney looks up at the Mediterranean styled home, glancing down at the stained glass double doors.

The moment they make it inside, a beautiful marble and hardwood space is made up of open-concept. The living room is surrounded by large windows able to see out into the streets. The kitchen is made out of a beautiful white stone, a large island sitting in the middle with a dining room table in the next room. Two doors lead into the bedroom, a vintage look to it, champagne comforter set with a fancily carved headboard, long golden curtains high along the ceiling, leading to a spacious balcony.

Stoney’s eyes couldn’t find one place to look. She’s so distracted by the beauty of this house, she’s pulled away as she feels a pair of arms sneak along her hips, feeling his breath along her neck, holding her close to him.

She sighs, rubbing the skin of his arm as she tells him, “How are you trying to impress me on your birthday?”

He chuckles against her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin sending shivers down her spine as his chin rests along the curve of her shoulder. One of his hands slowly travels over her hoodie, gently tracing the skin of the side of her abdomen.

“Don’t gotta impress you, baby. Just trying to make you comfortable. You’ comfortable?”

She nods her head as she breathlessly replies, “Mhm,” before she then adds, “You should go shower. You still haven’t told me how you wanna celebrate tonight.”

He hums against her skin, his lips slowly caressing her neck in an open mouthed kiss, “You’re tryna avoid me.”

The laugh that comes from her lips is forced, awkward even. It was as if they hadn’t already been together on the drive there, the plane ride, all of it. But they were here now, in this intimate space, and maybe that intimidated her a bit.

She squeezes his arm tighter as she lies, “No. I just take forever to get ready and think you should go first. Womanly shit. And—I’m hungry,” she adds on, turning towards him, lightly pulling away as she gives him a smile.

He could see the unease in her eyes, and that familiar shyness that would always take over her. He nods his head as he lets her pull away, keeping a hold of her hand, a subtle understanding in his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”

“I’d ask you that, birthday boy,” she brings her arms around his neck to make sure she wasn’t being awkward, “What are you in the mood for?”

“You really wanna know what I’m in the mood for?”

The question seems innocent, but she knew it wasn’t. She was blushing hard enough. When he chuckles at her slow blinking at him, she sighs out, “Toji…” hearing his amusement as he brushes his nose against hers, finally allowing her to breathe as he pulls back to go shower.

He turns to make his way down the hall to the bedroom, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be done in twenty minutes, don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.”

Her eyes follow him, the way his back muscles flex as he peels the hoodie he wears while walking towards the bathroom, nearly tilting her body to follow him with her vision.

She mindlessly replies, “….Okay.”

God.

It was starting to become a game of cat and mouse. The only thing was, Stoney wasn’t sure which part she played. He came out of the shower with a towel wrapped along his hips just begging to fall, his large arms reaching up as he dried his dark hair, muscles flexing along his stomach with every move he made, tattoos almost moving with him.

All of the thoughts she had smacked her upside the head like a brutal fight, driving her insane. She moved around him as she went into the bathroom.

She took her time on her hair and makeup, wanting to look as good as possible. Her dark hair was pin straight, layers prominent within the dark shine of her tresses. Her lashes create a cat-eye, dark liner in her bottom lid, a mauve and a dark brown mixture along her lips. Even if she’d gotten the approval from her sister, she felt…strange in her dress.

It was sexy, purposeful to catch someone's eye. The black silk somehow clung to her frame, but still had a flow to it, spaghetti straps along her shoulders, lace clutched along her breast, nearly showcasing the brown of her nipples if you looked close enough. The left side of it had a slit all the way to her hip, giving the illusion that she wore nothing under. She pressed her lips together as she pulled her hair behind her ear, tilting to the side as she checked herself out.

Her eyes then follow over to the open door, seeing as Toji’s frame now stood there, suit clutched to his figure as it fit him perfectly. His tie was still loose, buttons open from the top as he was getting himself ready. In all of that, his jaw visibly tightened at the sight of her.

“…Is it too much?” she softly asks.

He walks up behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, watching her face in the mirror through his darkened gaze. His eyes roam over her frame, taking in the lace along her chest, the skin of her neck.

“Turn.”

She turns towards him with a breath, the sound of his voice making her want to vibrate. She squeals as he places her along the counter of the bathroom, holding him as if she would fall.

“Please say something else before my brain explodes.”

He chuckles, his hands clutching the skin of her legs, fingers running along her thigh, going under the silky material of the dress. He could practically feel her skin trembling underneath his palms as he looked over her.

“Christ, baby,” his voice comes out raspy as his eyes roam over her body, his fingers gently squeezing her thigh. “Shit is almost criminal at how good you look.”

She exhales at that, “You okay with the dress?” Her eyes glance back and forth, seeing that the question almost confused him.

“If you’re asking whether or not I give a fuck about you showing your body, the answer is I don’t. I know how to fight,” he tells her, his words making her giggle a bit as he gives a kiss to her neck, trailing up her jaw.

The moment she feels him close to her lips, she pulls his mouth back as she questions, “Need help with your tie?”

He lets out an amused huff as she pulls his mouth away, trying to distract herself. He smirks a little as he answers, “I’m grown as fuck. But yeah, do it for me.”

She wraps her fingers along the silk as she begins tying it around his neck, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m aware, you’re six years older than me. That’s like fifty-thousand years.”

“Very funny.”

He watches intently as she ties the tie around his neck, her fingers touching the silk, making sure it was proper.

He smirks a bit as he asks, “You’ gonna be a smartass all night long?”

“Anyways, I couldn’t find much on the restaurants close by, the more local places seem to not be searchable. It also looks like we’ll have to walk a bit to see all the pretty stuff. Ooh! I see the Colosseum isn’t too far away, and apparently around this time they have a big Christmas tree next to it! I wanna take a bunch of pics for Sai to see,” she smiles, “And then there’s this beautiful church with all these paintings of angels on the ceiling, and you can take pictures of it!” She’s rambling, buttoning up the top he wears beneath his suit jacket.

She halts herself a bit, pulling back her fingers as she says, “Sorry. We can do whatever you want first, of course.”

He watches her ramble on, a small smile on his face as she listed out the things she read about and that piqued her interest.

“I wanna go wherever you wanna go, baby,” he tells her, his voice coming off a bit softer than usual, “You’re the one excited to see this stuff, so let’s do that first.”

God, she hated being soft with this man. To hear him sincerely tell her that, she closes the final button on his suit, trying to hide her smile as she girlishly replies, “Okay.”

“We gotta go soon before we don’t leave. You look too fuckin’ good in this dress right now.”

“Down, boy,” she giggles, watching as he pulls on her Christian Louboutin ballet heels, giving a kiss to her feet as he ties the satin along her ankles. He pulls her off the counter with a smack to her ass, grunting as he kisses her forehead with a, “C’mon.”

Seeing the sun set along the city was a sight. It seemed like the night made it wake up from its daily slumber, bodies crawling along the brick ground as she led the way. Her eyes traveled along the pastel colored buildings, the smell of food, music strumming from musicians along the street, windows freely open from neighborhood apartments.

It’s almost as if love fills the air. She watches as people sit on the outside, kissing and touching one another in romantic forms, continuing to pull him past a lit up flower shop—she can’t help but slow down. Her eyes fall along the pastel pink petals, yellow within the middle of it.

She gasps softly, “They’re Lotus flowers…”

He stops as soon as she pauses, his eyes going to the flowers that caught her eye. The petals looked pristine and vibrant, so much as if they’d been grown out of magic. Seeing how she carefully touched them, almost as if she’d break them in two, they looked like the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“You like them?”

“They’re pretty,” she smiles gently, “Sai would love these in our little garden.”

“They’re yours, then. Take as many as you want.”

He’s already at the register, propping a cigarette in between his lips, beginning to exchange the cash he carried for euros with the cashier as he pulled out his wallet.

She tilts her head, pursing her lips, “Don’t be funny, Toji. How am I supposed to get flowers across the country?”

“I’ll hire an entire fuckin’ army to deliver them if you need me to.”

She sighs lightly, holding the bouquet close to her chest. She thanks the cashier as he smiles, standing against her heels as she presses a kiss to his cheek, “You’re such a sweet bean. Sai will love these.”

He huffs a bit at the kiss on the cheek, her lips feeling impossibly warm against his skin.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters within her ear, kissing her cheek back, “Let’s go.”

As they continue walking farther down, she spots a restaurant across the bridge. Christmas decorations hang all along the tent of the building. She clutches his hand a bit tighter, using her other hand to hold her bouquet as she turns to him, “Can we go to that one?”

“We gotta get on a boat to get to that one,” he mentions.

Her eyes fall down into the water, seeing a man sitting on the end of a thin canoe, swaying the paddles idly. She raises her eyebrow as she says, “Boat? That shit is small as fuck. How isn’t he flipping on that?”

He chuckles at her response, “You never seen a gondola?”

She narrows her eyes, “Oh, so you think you’re better than me? Why you’ know what that is? You fucked a bitch from Italy or something?”

He blinks slowly at her, playing along as he replies, “Yeah, my passport’s stamped as hell.”

“Oh, well how about you call your lil’ foreign hoes to come celebrate your birthday? I’d rather swim than get on a canoe with you!”

“Gondola.”

“Whatever the fuck!”

She waves politely at the man, taking his hand instead of Toji’s as she steps down onto the navy blue boat. Her heel makes her wobble a bit, the feeling of the water making her tense as she sits along the bench, taking a deep breath as they become situated.

The moment they began moving, she could feel everything beneath them, including the water swaying. These moments seemed romantic enough in movies, but right now, it was kinda terrifying. The moment the paddle had the entire boat sway, she placed her flowers along Toji’s lap, gripping the end of his suit jacket as she exhaled.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Even after you were just talking shit?”

She goes to talk more shit, the boat teetering, her mouth clasping shut as she grips him tighter, laying her head against his shoulder as she nearly whimpers, “Toji.”

He sighs, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer, “You’re good, momma. Sai will still have a parent by the end of this boat ride.”

She nods her head, keeping her eyes fluttered closed. He then says, “Unless…”

“Unless what?” her head peaks up.

“Every night in my dreams—I see you, I feel you…”

She blinks, “You are not singing the Titanic song right now. You’re not funny. You’re just not,” she pouts, hiding her face within his shoulder.

They finally arrive along the other side of the street, Stoney beginning to walk faster until she makes it to the restaurant, finally accepting Toji’s hand, following the host who sits them down.

“I’m not talking to you for like five minutes,” she huffs, placing her flowers against the extra chair, “That was mean.”

“I see where Sai gets that pouting shit from. It’s cuter when she does it.”

Stoney rolls her eyes, taking the menu and smacking his palm with it, “Say you’re sorry.”

He rubs his hand where she smacked, “Damn,” he mutters, before letting out a sigh, “Apologies for scaring you on the gondola, my lady.”

She smiles, “It’s okay. And stop smoking,” she reaches over to pull the cigarette from his mouth, his entire body conveniently moving back, opening his legs a bit as he manspreads along the chair, continuing to puff his cigarette.

She hated how good he looked in a suit. The moment he orders a whiskey as she orders a crown and Coke with lime, her eyes glance over him again, patting her fingers against the table.

“I had some questions for you,” she says, her slender eyes sparkling under the lights.

He shifts in his seat, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke slowly leaving his lips as he raises his eyebrows, listening intently.

“Go ahead.”

“Mmm…well, where are you from?”

He places the cigarette in between his fingers, bringing the whiskey glass to his lips as he takes a small sip, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tokyo,” he simply says, his voice coming out a bit huskier than usual.

“Why come to the states? Were there no reptiles to wrangle out in Tokyo? Or someone that needed help moving?” She questions.

He chuckles a bit at her words, shaking his head as he answers, “No one was willing to pay me what I wanted. Started helping a friend move boxes, and decided I wanted my own company. Ended up helping a family get a snake out their house, it piqued another interest. Is this an interview?”

She rolls her eyes, “This is a date, we have to get to know each other!”

“My fault. You’re right, pretty. Continue.”

“Hm…so Japanese was your first language?”

He hums as his eyes roam over her, watching her take sips of her drink, seeing the way the lights in the restaurant made her skin glow gently.

“Yeah,” he confirms, setting his glass back down onto the table, “Didn’t learn English until I was thirteen. Took a while to learn, shit was hard.”

“Tell me something,” she asks him, leaning more forward on the table, “Japanese is pretty. Wanna hear it from your mouth.”

His lips curve up as she leans forward on the table in front of him, her eyes looking intently. He doesn’t hesitate in his response, his voice coming out deeper, the language sounding more intimate, almost as if it were being spoken only for her to listen to.

“Anata to sekkusushitai,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers.

She blinks as his voice lowers, tilting her head as she questions, “Gonna say it in English now?”

“Tell me what you think I said,” he offers, his tongue running along his lip before he grabs his cigarette, taking another puff.

“Something you ain’t have no business saying,” she squints, “I knew you didn’t like me. Cause you don’t wanna tell me! I’m not your type. Do you even like black women?”

He raises an eyebrow, “So that’s what we’re doing now?”

She crosses her arms, “Well, yes! I mean, do you? How do you know how to handle a black ass situation? What you’ gonna do if you’re fucking me, and you’re pulling my hair too hard that my wig comes flying off? Cause that can happen!”

“Shit, guess I gotta start pulling at your braids then.”

She presses her hands over her face as she squeaks, “Ah! Nooo. You did not just say that. I’m about to faint,” she fans her face, ignoring the full on laugh that comes from him.

“That’s not what you wanted to hear, huh? That I’m gonna grip—“

“Please stop. I beg.”

“Well, don’t question how I feel about you then. You should know that shit by now.”

They then order their food, Toji noticing as Stoney constantly checks the flowers beside her, gently touching them every few seconds.

He raises an eyebrow, “Think they’re gonna fly away?”

“I’m just tryna think how I could preserve them for Sai. She’ll be so happy.”

His jaw clenches a bit at the sight of her beaming, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Instead, he keeps his hands to himself as he then states, “Talk to me about Sai.”

She blinks, “About Sai?”

Taking another puff from his cigarette, his eyes don’t leave her face as he nods in response, “Yeah, your face lights up every time you say her name. I wanna keep that up.”

The sentence makes her a bit warm, but she knows how happy the thought of her child makes her. She says, “Well, she’s been doing really good since she started school. She gets along with the other kids, and she’s inviting them to have a sleepover for her birthday. I’m not sure what theme she wants, I think Minnie Mouse but then she said that all the girls at school right now like BRATZ, which shocked me, considering that was the thing when I was younger. She likes Hello Kitty too, but I think she might’ve outgrown her a bit. I’m tryna get her to like Strawberry Shortcake, cause I love that brand and want an excuse to buy a bunch of shit.”

She heard herself talking and talking, pulling herself back a bit as she lightly laughed, “Yeah…but she’s—she’s great. She’s happy to be with her dad for Christmas, even if he isn’t my favorite person in the world.”

She slows down on her continuation, noticing the way he stares at her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Nothing.”

He takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never once leaving hers, “Just seeing how long I could keep you talking. Your voice is prettier than fuckin’ angels singing.”

Her heart flutters a bit, eyes pulling away as they place the pasta with meatballs along the table, the large heart shaped pepperoni pizza making Stoney want to dreamily sigh like a princess. She watches as Toji digs the spoon within the plate, swirling the utensil in between the noodles and placing it towards her mouth. She immediately opens in response, pulling the food in, humming as it tasted delicious.

She groans, “Either this is too good or I’m just starving.”

“Probably both. You were too busy acting like you didn’t fuck with me to have a meal before we got here.”

He takes his thumb to wipe a bit of pasta sauce from the corner of her mouth, “You’re making a mess, momma. Don’t need you crying that your dress is ruined.”

As she feels him wiping sauce off the side of her mouth, the buzz of her cocktail creeps its way in. It’s like all of her alcohol had suddenly shot down between her legs. She was a lightweight, unfortunately.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have leaned forward, grabbed his finger, wrapped her lips around it and began sucking the sauce off herself. Her feline eyes see his jaw tighten, blinking innocently as she questions, “Am I clean?”

“Chill. I’m tryna’ be good.”

She giggles, pulling herself back, her eyes becoming low as her voice is more smooth, “Think my little drink is catching up to me.”

There’s that damned laugh again.

He groans as she pulls back, her voice going a bit lower, a new sultriness to it that makes his pants a bit uncomfortable. He runs a hand through his hair, shifting in his chair before muttering, “You’ good, pretty? Need some water?”

She shakes her head, “Mmm, no. Just want your hand, like when you rub my leg.”

He lets out another soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he puts it out in the ashtray on the table, watching the smoke slowly leave his lips. Instead of putting his hand on her leg from under the table, he lifts her heel from beneath it, placing it along his lap as he begins rubbing the skin.

“Like this?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “You’re such a sweetie to me. Look so handsome in your suit.”

“Nothing in comparison to your dress. You’re tryna kill me.”

He looks around, seeing on the opposite side of the tables that a group of people stand around, dancing to the relaxing music a band plays not too far from the restaurant.

He then asks, “When’d you open up that studio?”

“Not too long after we stopped talking,” she replies, playing with the straw in her glass, “My ex-husband always said my pottery business would never become more than chump change. So, I made myself a studio. Make decent money, too. I’ve never been so happy.”

“He‘s a fuckin’ idiot,” he comments, his voice coming out rougher. “Should’ve never doubted you. I’m proud as fuck of you, baby.”

Something in his words makes her eyes twitch. It was like a damn breaking within a River, a sentiment she hadn’t felt before. Her eyes glance over to the people that dance, turning back as she reaches out for his hand, “Come dance with me?”

Despite having two left feet in his mind, there’s no universe in which he would ever turn down an offer to be close to her.

“Drink some water, then we can go,” he pulls the cup towards her mouth.

She waves him off, “I’m fine, Fushiguro. Jesus. I just feel a lil floaty, a cocktail did not put me on my ass. Everything just feels better at this moment, so I’m happy. Dance with me,” she repeats, standing as she yanks the larger man by his arm.

He doesn’t budge from his seat. With a sigh, she reaches for her water, sipping it heavily, watching as he then stands with a grunt, “Hard headed ass,” now pulling her to where the other couples stand, wrapping his fingers along her waist, satisfied with the way she brings her arms around his neck.

She can feel the way she presses all of her weight against him, so comfortable in his arms that his grip is the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

She sighs, “So, thirty-three—how do you feel about that age? Do you feel…accomplished in life?”

“Thirty-three’s cool,” he answers, his voice coming out lower, “I’m more interested in thirty-five. But at the moment, I got everything I need.”

“What’s everything to you?”

The soft hum of music surrounds them, but all he can do is focus on her hair brushing against his skin, looking more captivating in the lights of the restaurant.

“I’m a business owner,” he replies, “Got a roof over my head, support in areas I need it. The only thing I’m missing is my stubborn ass woman to share that with.”

That sentence makes her clutch his suit a bit, unable to let the tipsiness that battles the sobriety of her mind ask questions she usually wouldn’t.

She then asks, “Why do you want me, Toji? I mean—I have a kid, a shitty ex-husband to constantly deal with. Your life seems…nice. No turmoil, no one else’s baggage.”

“That’s your fuckin’ problem. You don’t see yourself the way I see you,” he grunts, his eyes looking almost darker as he continues to speak, “The way you ramble when you get excited, the way you laugh, the radiance you spread regardless of the shit you’ve gone through. You’re under my skin. You’ll be adding years onto my life.”

She blinks up at him, a sharp inhale quiet in her mouth at his words. She had been trying to push this man away all this time, and he wasn’t giving up. He had shown her an affection in close range that she’d never experienced before— there was no reason to be afraid of him.

“…Solaya.”

She sees him raise an eyebrow, continuing as she says, “That’s…my real name. I don’t usually give it out—it’s a rarity,” she rubs her finger over his jaw, giving him a vulnerability she hadn’t given anyone else.

Her words sink in, her name falling from her lips. She was giving him a part of her. He leans down to take in her scent—a mixture of the flowers surrounding them and that intoxicating vanilla.

“I want you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the fuckin’ earth, Solaya.”

He grips her up more, her heels now coming along his shoes, twisting her around so that it makes her giggle, it being filled with so much sincerity. She leans her head up, pulling him down closer as she admits to him, “I want you too,” brushing her mouth along his jaw, her breath hitching at her own actions.

The moment he lowers his face, his mouth engulfs hers, trapping her within a kiss that made her feel like her head had been ducked in a bucket of water. His lips move with hers in a way that overpowers her mouth, kneeling her head back as he practically claims her within his actions.

Their lips move in sync, his hand gripping her jaw as he tilts her head back further, his tongue running along the flesh of her mouth. The air seems to suffocate them.

She pulls him back, her face warm, pressing her forehead against his as she breathlessly giggles, “We’re in public, Fushiguro.”

It almost made him growl like an animal as he’s brought to reality—but he didn’t want to push. And to see the rush of blood on her cheeks, he pulls his mouth up to kiss her forehead as he grunts, “Let’s finish eating.”

Her comfortability now opened tenfold, talking his ear off in ways she’d never done before. He was there to listen to all of it. They’d finished their food, traveling back across the water where their villa met. She was now back to being full on tipsy, considering she had drunk some of his whiskey, knowing that the mixture would create an entirely different personality within her own. She was bold, talkative, and relaxed. Though, her feet did hurt.

Toji had given her his socks so she wouldn’t walk along the ground barefoot, holding her heels and flowers in his free hand, his other holding hers.

She grumbled as she took another step, “Ugh—fuckin’ expensive shoes should be comfortable.”

He stops walking, chuckling as the villa wasn’t too far ahead, “C’mere, pretty.”

“I’m fine—“ once again, she squeaks, unable to fight as he’s already swooping her up in his arms, now carrying her bridal style.

“You don’t listen.”

He finally makes it to the door of the villa, tossing the keys along the nightstand close to it. She pressed herself back on the ground as she tossed the socks off her feet and took off, squealing, “I wanna see the sky tonight!”

“You just wanted me to carry your sneaky ass, huh? Talking about your feet hurt.”

She finally gets to the balcony, pulling the doors as the cool night air brushes along her skin. Night had come, the stars above illuminating the stars, and the moon glowing so beautifully that it was almost hypnotizing. With soft waves in the water, the breeze was just perfect.

She feels a clutch along the back of her dress, his voice husky as he states, “You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, “Look at the moon!” She wraps his arms along her hips, wanting to feel his touch, “Isn’t it pretty?” She hums, leaning herself back against him, almost in the same position they were in earlier within the day.

“Ain’t as pretty as you, momma,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into her hair, taking in her sweet scent again.

“Being corny comes with the old man syndrome?” She questions, lightly laughing to herself, falling deeper into his chest.

He murmurs, “Being a smartass comes with that young woman syndrome?” His thumbs lightly caress against her skin, his breath fanning just beneath her ear.

She goes to answer—but the way his hands trail under the slit of her dress, wrapping his fingers along her inner thigh, she can’t seem to focus.

The alcohol within her system has her trail her hand up behind herself, wrapping it to the back of his neck and pulling him down to where his lips meet her throat.

“…I like when you kiss me here,” she says, her voice soft, quiet.

He lets out a sharp inhale, his lips skimming along the skin of her throat, not yet making contact, “Where?” he asks, his voice low, “Here?”

He presses his lips gently along the side of her neck, right along the flesh that she pulled him to. It makes her clutch him a bit tighter, the throb going in between her legs as her skin now feels sensitive to the touch.

She nods her head, biting her lip lightly as she exhales, “…Yeah.”

His lips continue to trail against that same spot, sucking and kissing against her neck lazily, leaving spots of red along her skin. He murmurs between kisses, “Talk to me. Tell me where else you’ want my mouth.”

His touch was like no other, and the desire for him was aching at this point. It had been so long. She pulls her hair along one side of her shoulder as she leans forward a bit and whispers, “Lower…”

His lips attach to the skin of her back firmly, “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low, “You want my mouth all over you, huh?”

Her body shudders as he presses his hand along her lower body, pushing her forward a bit so she has to lean against the balcony’s architecture. The straps of her dress are falling off her shoulders, revealing more of her back to him, her body almost tantalizing, moving like sultry choreography.

It’s almost as if something in her clicks, and she realizes that she’s along a balcony, the fear of someone seeing them giving her a reality check. It makes her face warm, her eyes fluttering open a bit as she turns back to him, “Toji—“

Her mouth clasps shut, his palms moving like fire as he pulls her dress up to her hips, yanking the lace of her thong, dragging his tongue up the entirety of her. She latches her palm along his hair, nudging herself forward as she stands on her toes, gasping all the air she had in her chest. She was speechless.

Her face screws up at the rush of pleasure that comes through, the feeling lost as she hadn’t been with anyone in months. She whimpers, “F—fuck. Wait—”

“Been patient as fuck, baby. Just take it,” he tells her, his tongue slurping in between her folds, lapping her up like she was the last thing he’d ever eat.

He groans deeply as his tongue delves between her thighs, savoring her taste and scent. He grips her ass firmly, kneading the supple flesh as he laps at her clit, growling against the heated skin.

Her back arches into him, her brain going fuzzy as her eyelids come together, the gasp that pulls from her lips nearly deafening, trying to push his mouth away as she whimpers, “We’re on the balcony, Fushiguro…”

The sound of her whimper sends a jolt straight to his dick, already hard and straining against his pants. He doesn't care about the balcony; all he can think about is making her feel good. He continues his assault on her pussy, licking and sucking recklessly.

"You're fuckin’ drenched," he growls against her soaked folds, "Relax. Need you to gush in my fuckin’ mouth," His hands move to her hips, pulling her harder against his jaw as he devours her.

He doesn't stop, can’t stop, his tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it between his lips, giving it a gentle tug.

Arousal drowning him within the ocean of her doesn’t feel like enough. He needs more. He spreads her apart, dipping his tongue deep inside her, the intrusion making her walls clench, Stoney slapping her hand along her mouth as she trembles out a moan. She feels him hold her thighs apart as he exposes her to the cool night air. The contrast only serves to heighten her arousal, and she cries out, her other hand flying deeper into his hair to keep him in place even as she tries to pull away.

"Toji... please..."

Toji's growl rumbles deep in his chest as he drinks in every drop of her, coating his tongue in her arousal. Her pleas, begging for release, only fuel his hunger for her.

“Take your hand off your mouth,” he grunts in between, knocking his head side to side, his nose practically burying in between her legs. He’s almost drunk, intoxicated by her scent, loving the way she drips all over his face and jaw, wetter than she’d ever been for him.

She slides her fingers in between her lips, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Gonna be too loud.”

"I don’t wanna hear that shit," he snarls, his breath hot against her pussy as he sucks her clit back into his mouth, “Ride my fuckin’ face,” the vibrations sending shivers through her trembling body.

She bites down on her fingers, muffling her moans as best she could while still trying to ride out the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. Her thighs begin to quake, her toes pressing harder as she stands on the tips of her feet, pushing her hips further onto his face, grinding herself against his eager mouth.

His words are filthy, crude, but there's no mistaking the desperation in them. He needs this, needs her, more than anything. And judging by the way she's trembling, the way her juices are still dripping down his chin, she needs it too. But covering her sounds was starting to piss him off.

He pulls his mouth back, Stoney feeling as he raises himself up, the intensity of her state keeping her body humming regardless of his missing touch. She’s too floaty to realize him wrapping his large arm around her neck, trapping her almost within a gentle headlock. She thought he was trying to kill her.

His mouth is against her ear, heavily breathing within it, the sound making her heart pound in her chest. She’s unable to see but could feel the monster between his legs, her thighs immediately wanting to tighten as his pink tip nudged at her folds, stretching her out before he was even close to being inside.

She’s already protesting, wanting to claw out of his hold, clutching her hand around the arm that holds her in place. He uses his free hand to slam his palm against her ass, Stoney shuddering out a gasp as she drags her nails against his skin, Toji tugging her even closer as he tsks, “Nuh-uh, quit all that,” sinking himself within her, bruising her walls in seconds, the sensitivity sending her in overdrive. She can feel her eyes welling with tears all too pleasurable, feeling as he locks his hips forward, dragging her ass back to clap against his abdomen, the sounds of her gushing like a faucet shocking to her own ears. She inhales deeply for seconds, shuddering out the craziest whine she’d ever heard come from her lips as tears fall down her face, feeling herself going into shock as she pushes back against him, squirting as if they’d been fucking for hours.

“Yeah? You’ cumming like that already?”

He’s holding her in place, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, nearly breaking skin as she drags her nails down his arms, crying in repetitions, “I’m c—cumming, oh m—god,” nearly wanting to be mad at him for the arrogant laugh that drops out his mouth.

He growls into her ear, "You’re makin' a fuckin’ mess,” The wetness seeping down his dick making every thrust slicker, allowing him to plunge deeper each time he pulls his hips back, rocking them forward.

He coos in her ear regardless of the loud noises she makes, “You’ cumming, baby? Yeahh, I hear it,” He grips her ass tighter, spanking her hard enough to leave marks, determined to keep her babbling.

She’s completely out of her mind. She thought about it often, having this pleasure again— it was embarrassing to see how much she needed it. Needed him.

“Pussy missed me, baby,” he grunts in her ear, her eyes tightly shut as she groans, her skin bouncing against his hips sharply echoing within her mind, the cream of her arousal stickily spreading each time he thrusted in. It was creating more and more, she felt like she was going blind.

“Tryna’ keep her from me, who else is gonna fuck you like this?”

He’s in her brain, punctuating his words with each thrust. He leans in, capturing her ear as he kisses it, her whimpers and moans high pitched. He can feel her pushing back, sucking air into her mouth, her face caught into a frown from how good this all feels. He tightens his arm along her neck, coaching her through as he talks, "Doing good as fuck, momma. Take every inch.”

His grip on her hips tightens, using the leverage to piston into her harder, faster.

She reaches her free palm behind herself, pressing it along his hip and squeezing, whimpering immediately as he catches it, pulling the hand behind her back. She’s panting at that point, but giving no actual responses. He spanks her again, which drops a pleading moan from her mouth, rougher in fucking her as softly cries, “Baby…”

She’s just trying to get through the movements he gives her, feeling like she can’t. It’s too good. But it’s also unfortunate how badly he wanted to hear her voice.

He releases her from that jail of a position, now possibly putting her in a worse one. He’s holding her upright as she now faces him, one leg draped over his shoulder, the other foot barely touching the floor. He’s got her pinned against the railing, her chest pressed against his, her throat constricted between his palm, needing her attention.

“Put it in,” he grunts.

Maybe she was right—he was actually trying to kill her. She attempts to pull his mouth down to kiss him, face warm as she didn’t want to keep seeing the stoicness of his expression. The scar on his lip twitches, as if he's amused by her shyness. He’s already slapping his tip against her clit, making her jump as she’s trying to catch her breath.

She wraps her fingers along the tip, exhaling as she sinks herself down onto him, clutching the back of his hair as she pouts, “…You’re tryna make fun of me.”

He smirks at her accusation, enjoying the way she clutches his hair as she sinks down. He can feel every inch of her enveloping him, her walls clamping around his length as he arrogantly huffs, "Nah, just looking at your pretty ass face," pulling her hips back, tugging them forward, chuckling within her mouth, swallowing her desperate pleas as he tells her, “Fuck me. Take my dick however you want it.”

She’s breathless as she grinds herself against him—eyes fluttering shut, unable to handle his reaction to how she whimpered and whined for him. She was mewling at this point, her body pliant within his grip.

Her inhales are almost concerning, clasping him as if she feared that he’d let go of her. She rocks her hips down, pulling him up by his hair, pressing their foreheads together as she whimpers, “Nobody’s…ever made me feel this good…”

Her words almost wreck him.

Toji groans against her, his touch almost brutal as she pulls him closer. He feels the urge to have her all to himself, to be the only one to make her feel this way. To be the only one to take her apart.

“Yeah? How good?”

“So good,” her words are soft in cries as he latches his lips along her neck, “S—so good,” she repeats, mouth coming back up to his, breathless in her responses.

Their lips press together gently, his hands moving to grip the back of her thighs in a possessive clench. He then takes her other leg to lift up, placing them both over his shoulders, Stoney quickly latching her arms around his throat, holding her fingers together in her palms.

The sounds are filthy as he’s dropping her onto his dick, eyes rolling inside her mind to search for her sanity as they were in this tapout position, listening to the sound their skin makes together, Stoney’s mouth dragging out a desperate moan.

“You heard me fuckin’ talking to you.”

He circled back to his words earlier, balls becoming drenched with her arousal, squelching between their skin as the back of her thighs clap along his abdomen.

He repeats, “Who is else is gonna fuck you like this, huh?”

A hard thrust comes at the emphasis of his word, bottoming out inside of her, holding her close as she claws to be freed from him. She drags her nails within his back, pitiful in her sounds as she breaks, “Ohshi— fuck, baby—” she’s gasping, “I don’t know.”

"Don't know?" He mocks, punctuating each word with even more hard, deep thrust, “You know.”

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he growls, "Pussy been mine, you’re too fuckin’ hard headed,” Another brutal thrust, his hips snapping up to meet hers, "And you love it, don't you?"

She’s sobbing at this point, too full of a deadly pleasure he fills within her veins, knowing just how she wanted to be fucked. She cracks, shuddering out whines as she nods, “Love it so much, baby, f—fuck. Take your pussy, baby. Fuck me. Please. Please…”

She pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads against one another as she softly says, “Missed you so much, Toji…” she’s hiccuping, her tears fluttering her eyes, seeming like they came from more than just pleasure. They were honest.

At her whispered confession, something shifts in Toji's expression. The lust is still burning in his eyes, but there's an underlying tenderness, a depth of emotion he rarely allows himself to show. He cups her face, thumb brushing away a tear as he murmurs, "Missed you too, momma. More than you know,” His voice is rough with unspoken feelings, the admission heavy in the air between them, tension being cut each time her clit gets a rush of pleasure from how deep he plunges inside of her.

He holds her gaze, the intensity of his emotions palpable. Then, without warning, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all those hidden sentiments into the passionate embrace. His tongue delves deep, claiming her mouth as thoroughly as he claims her body.

"I'm never letting you go again," he declares, his voice thick with conviction.

She gasps at his words, clinging back to his hair again, pulling him lower as she sighs, “I’m so sorry, I…” Her abdomen tightens, fighting against her words, “I’m cumming, I need you…”

At her desperate plea, Toji's resolve crumbles. He knows he should slow down, savor this moment, but the urgency in her voice is too powerful to resist. With a primal growl, he reclaims her mouth in a bruising kiss, burying himself so deep within her, she screams, attempting to cover her mouth, Toji snatching her palm, clutching her jaw back into his mouth, allowing her to fall apart against his lips.

As she gushes against him, Toji loses himself entirely, his own release rushing in a way he didn’t expect. He pounds into her, chasing his own pleasure with low moans as he drinks in her cries of ecstasy. The sound of skin slapping against skin, their ragged breathing, and her broken moans fill the room, creating a symphony of raw, uninhibited passion.

Toji finds his peak, his vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, muffling his moans of release against her skin as he pours everything he has into her. His eyes meet hers as she finally opens them, a look of vulnerability that shows the craving is mutual. His hips jolt, still pulsating inside her, prolonging their shared climax as he reaches up to clutch her hair in his fingers, pulling her mouth against his, forcing her into a nasty kiss. He wasn’t planning for her to go anywhere, and she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He was gonna fuck her as many times as she wanted it, adore her as many times as she needed it—she was his. And so he did.

Again, again, and again.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji imagine #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x black character #toji x reader #toji x black reader

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princessbrunette · 6 months ago

Note

Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.

it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.

“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.

“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.

“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”

“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.

“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.

“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.

“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.

“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.

“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”

“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.

rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.

“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.

you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.

“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.

“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.

you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.

as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ‘little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.

“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips — impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.

“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #pogue!rafe

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hyukascampfire · 1 month ago

Text

𝓐T 𝓢WA𝓝 𝓛AKE ﹐､﹒ c.bg ˏˋ੭ꠥ ¸ˎ

as both equals and opposites, white swan and black swan, it is paramount that you and choi beomgyu do not touch. the curse of your natures did not even make exception for incidental brushes. that was never an issue for you—not until the day the prince took it upon himself to break every rule you’d ever known. ⋆˛ ˛

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

⸉⋆ ᧔ 🦢᧓ ･ 10.3k

𝒫airings ˒ black swan prince!beomgyu 𝓍 white swan princess!reader

𝒢 ‎⍪ smut ˒ fantasy ˒ forbidden romance

𝒲arnings ˒ smut, angst and longing, unprotected sex, lots of teasing, jealousy…, yearning and yearning, he cums on her, theyre both desperate, pathetically in love!beomgyu, shes all he wants, virgin!reader, loss of innocence, he talks her through it, he gets a little whiny… hmm i can’t remember if i’m missing anything. this is not proofread!! i’m gonna nap first.

✎୭ ashlynn's note @hmusunoo … baby you did your big one with this. i can not explain to you how excited i’ve been for this one. this is absolutely my favorite. it’s just so me, u know me so well and i think we should kiss. THANK U!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

Around you, mist and delicate flurries sit over white, fluffy blankets. Where it sits over the lake, it turns the horizon of the lake’s expanse into an obscured uncertainty. If you hadn’t spent so much time right here, you might think that it goes on forever.

It’s a beautiful, clear winter’s morning. Sparkling air wraps you in sweet and crisp tendrils, every breath to your lungs almost bitingly fresh. But in all its lightness, your chest only feels heavier. You had hoped that coming here would be a little, momentary respite. The air is so free around you, though, the weight doesn’t float away with it—it just leaves nothing but the feeling for you to contend with. No skittish wildlife rustle the foliage, and a thin film holds the crystalline lake from lapping at the bank. It seems that not even the wind moves. Just you.

It’s not your tears that you hide here. Sadness is a soft, gentle thing; an acceptable thing for a Lady like yourself to indulge in. It’s what the people expect of their princess. The demure and always prim White Swan. Always correct, always just how you should be.

Your tears are more like scalding, molten licks of fire than the slow, darling tears that are expected of you, though. They’re angry. It clashes up against the walls you’ve built up within yourself, against the role you’ve assumed.

That’s why you’ve come here. Coarser emotions are unbecoming of you, and it’d be a shame to feel them in front of others. It’s a shame that you’re letting yourself feel it now, even. You summon a thin sigh, funneling up all the tangy bitterness on your tongue to let it fall out into the air before you.

It doesn’t do much for you, really. This—feeling like this, so beyond the reach of your usual ways to shove down ugliness—is unfamiliar. Your entire life has been this, why do you struggle with it now? In the center of you, mingling with that anger, it’s as though a blackness blooms. Like a wretched flowering of some invasive plume, or perhaps the floating of inky black feathers through your bloodstream, you feel painted dark and unpleasant.

Holding the dappled fur of your shawl closer, you decide to watch chunks of crystal white ice float on the water’s surface. Or maybe the on-and-off snowflakes that float down around you. Even tracing the lengths of barren branches, lined with white fluff so still and serene, with your eyes. Anything but delving into what that tainted tug inside is, or what it might mean about you.

Snow crunches, or maybe a branch shifting, beckons your attention. But the foliage isn’t too thick, and trees are sparse around the lake, and there is always some small winged creature fluttering between branches out here. So, you brush it off.

A tingling about your person, some sort of whispering premonition, whisps and tugs just around your form. You straighten up at another thick step crunching in the snow from behind you. This time, you can’t explain it away.

A figure greets you. Dark, raven strands of silken hair fallen over eyes of the same, his skin so stark against it, black shoulder cloak on his shoulder flowing like velvet water against his billowing sleeves all ruffled and enamoring. He glitters like the frost, twinkling silver threads and black crystals sewn in to catch the light and make a show of him. Standing there, looking at you, he doesn’t look caught or frozen.

But you are. Wholly still, all of you like a sculpture of frost, you gawk right at him. You’d never interacted with the prince, the black swan. Never even seen him. It was never in the cards. Fear like ice curls clawed fingers over your heart and grasps it.

All your life, grand warnings of terrible things of him and what might happen should the two of you ever touch fell from the mouths of those around you. It was the constitution of who the two of you are—born to be the balance to each other, never to touch. Just an incidental brushing of fingers meant turning the world’s balance over on its head. They told you that the world would begin to fray at the seams, reality would warp, and that it’d be all your fault. And they also told you plenty about who the prince was as a person, too. Not only do you fear him for the curse of your nature, but also for all the nasty things you’ve heard of him. This, meeting him, was a thing of your deepest-cutting nightmares.

And, there, he stands in front of you.

“What are you doing out here crying?” Beomgyu says, curious eyes darting over your face. Under his gaze, you’re not sure how to feel. But you feel every last bit of it, regardless.

You wipe at your cheek, where he must’ve seen the wet streaks glistening in the light. Summoning some poise up from where you keep it in handy, you say, “It’s no matter. I was just looking out on the snow.” You fix up your hair and your dress.

The prince frowns, studying your face once again. Utterly unconvinced by what he finds there, he gestures toward you. “You’ve been crying, princess,” he says. “I didn’t think that lying was in the cards for you.”

Lying? Not in the cards for you? Lying is all you do. You lie to yourself and to others more than you are honest. “Maybe, but I’m well,” you say, and then you lift the soft skirts of your dress to step without treading it in the snow. “Really, I ought to get home before the snowfall gets heavier. It was lovely seeing you.” You try and make sure to keep a good and proper distance from him as you make for where you arrived here from.

Beomgyu reaches out for you, only pulling back from grabbing your arm at a frighteningly slim realization. “Wait,” he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he realizes what he’d almost just done. “You don’t have to leave. Why is it that you cry?”

He’d almost touched you. That close—you’d come that close to tragedy in only the first moments of your meeting. Your heart pumps out sizzling, frantic energy that has you looking at him wide-eyed and shaken. “I think you and I both are the most aware why it’s best that I leave,” you tell him, keeping it curt. You hold your arms to you.

Strong brows knitting, he shakes his head and takes some big steps back. The snow, sat powdery and calf-high on the ground, creaks beneath them. “I’ll stay back here,” he says. “Just don’t go. Won’t you entertain me? It’s a gentleman’s duty to help a weeping Lady.”

You falter. The words might have you blushing and offering him a modest thank you, but the way he says it—it’s rather taunting. It’s taunting in a way that gets right up under your skin and ruffles your feathers. “And why does it bother you so?” you ask him, arching a dainty brow. You’re not even sure why he’s come out here in the first place. This is the one place that you ordain your own. It seems that not even here can you be totally alone. “They’ll have a fit if they know I was here with you.”

The prince, with his clear, ethereal features cracking into a wicked amusement that you’re not sure how to digest, says, “Perhaps they will.” He tilts his head at you, wispy strands of hair moving over his shadowed eyes with it. “But, princess, that’s the fun in it. That they will admonish you for it. Is that why you’re crying?”

Fun? Nothing about what your people, your parents, might do should they find that you’d not only been near but spoken to the black swan, is fun. You level him wary eyes. And, though sense tugs at your feet and asks you to get going, you do not. You do not know why.

“I think it is.” He’s got an obnoxious tilt to his lips. “I think that’s why you cry.”

A scoff, an abrasive and distasteful sound coming from you, falls out from your mouth. There’s that awful imprudence and temerity that you’ve heard of the black swan—everything you ought not to be. “You seem the type to know everything,” you say.

He laughs, delighted. “Is that snark?”

Pursing your lips as though confused, you spin spiced threads of patronization into your voice. “Not snark,” you say. “Just an observation.”

“Hmm.” Beomgyu slides his hands into his pockets to warm his hands. “Might I make an observation about you, princess?”

There’s interest written all over his face—you know he’s playing some sort of game. You also know that you shouldn’t indulge him in it. Still, you do. A slight raising of your brow, or maybe the interest twinkling in your eyes, too, tells him to go on.

“I think that you are too dutiful for your own good,” he says.

In a slight, testy step, he inches closer. Not so close that you worry, but the two of you are not even supposed to be in the same room. Anything is too close. You mirror it with a step back. “You don’t know me,” you say. Against your better judgement, though, your lips twitch into a soft smile. The kind of smile that is insistent, no matter how you refuse it. “So, I believe your wonderings to be entirely groundless.”

Hair blowing gently in the wisps of a winter wind and his nose and cheeks gone pink, he says, “Oh, princess. Hardly. I think we know a great deal about each other.”

Well, that’s true enough. All your life you heard of him and your curse. You’re sure it was no different for him, no matter your differences. “And what do you know about me?” you ask.

Beomgyu’s laugh falls out in a white puff of curling frost. “I know it’s been arranged that you’ll marry a superior Lord,” he says. He observes you. “Am I right?”

So fast, just with that, lightness falls from your face. You hadn’t wanted to be reminded. Your feet itch to be off, so that you can feel it elsewhere. Not here; not in front of him. Leveling yourself so that your voice doesn’t come out as stilted as you feel, you say, “Yeah. You are.”

With his eyes narrowing on you, he says, “You know, it’s weird. I’ve never seen a girl excited to be wedded look like that when it’s brought up.”

You reign in your face and shake your head. “I am perfectly excited. It’s a blessing to be married into such a family.” As much as you smooth over the furrowing of your brows, or make your expression pleasant, it’s not so easy to tame the picking of your fingers.

Anything other than excited, you might be. But absolutely not that. In fact, you are beyond yourself with anger, and you have nowhere to go with it. It bubbles hot just under your skin and demands a release that you cannot give.

Being who you are, it’s been a truth you’ve known your whole life. Someday, you were going to be offered like a shiny, silver pawn to the highest bidder. And you, as the world’s white swan, are quite the enticing thing to own. You thought you’d banished the hope for a union of love right where you’d left the sense of self behind: years ago. The time’s come now, but you aren’t as at peace with it as you should be. No matter how hard you try, you are more human than you’d like to be, and far too human to be what the world expects you to be.

If you’re going to be frank with yourself: you do not want to marry him. Living as something bought, expected to live forever as this mellowed out, poised version of yourself by the side of some man who you don’t even know or love... Of any fate you might be made to live, you think that this one is the worst.

Beomgyu begins working on taking off his jacket, a white and pretty thing with thick, winter fabric. He offers it to you. “You don’t have to lie to me about it. Maybe them, but not me.”

You look between him and his offering hand—his perfect features that are so elegant, and yet, there’s a wildness to him in those hard black eyes. If you didn’t already know so much about him, you might still be able to see the untamed in him. Who couldn’t? He wears it plainly; without remorse. You’re not sure how to interact with it, but, in a way, you envy him.

Reaching out, you accept the jacket from his hand. Tentatively, with great care so as to avoid touch, but you do.

It’s nice and soft against your frost-kissed shoulders. But it’s not enough to fix the bite against the skin on your face, so you trudge through the snow over to the sparse tree line, where the trunks might protect you better from it than the flat expanse of the lake’s surface. You press your back to a tree, and he mirrors it on the tree opposite to you. Looking over the great lake, so very serene. It twinkles with an ice film like sugar crystals atop its surface. “I guess I’m just... scared,” you say. The words come out soft and uncertain.

He nods. Listening. So, you continue. “I don’t even know him. I haven’t spoken to my betrothed once. Maybe I’ll get to know him, and maybe he won’t be bad, but...”

“But he’s not who you want,” Beomgyu says. “Not who you love.”

Licking your winter-chapped lips, you eye him for a moment. You nod slowly and say, “...Yeah. I suppose it’s selfish, but...”

Ignited, Beomgyu pushes off the tree to say, “Selfish? You give your whole life to being their saint. Maybe they think they do, but they don’t own you.”

You, not us. Frowning, you ask him, “Are you not set for some marriage of convenience?” Marrying is different as a woman, but you don’t doubt that the prince’s family intends to strengthen alliances by offering his marriage up to some optimistic, lesser family with a daughter to bargain the way yours has done with you. Every last girl and boy born as you two have been—destined to a life bigger than yourself, a force in the world as much as you are a person—have lived just the same. All of them. Each incarnation of the white swan, and you’re sure every black swan too. The people of this world paint you as embodiments of balance and life, but use you more like power plays. Even your own parents. You were born from your mother all the same as all your siblings, but as much as it aches to admit it, you are not their child. In the back of your throat, hurt and bare anger wells up thick.

He half laughs, half scoffs. “They could try. It doesn’t matter to me. They’d have to kill me before I do their bidding. Is it our fault that we were born this?” he says. “I’m going to live my life how I want, no matter what.”

You tuck your hands into your sides, where they warm between the jacket and your body heat. His words and how he looks at your lives, it’s everything you’re not. Sense of self and determination to live for more than just your predetermined role—while you’d surrendered it all, he lives thrashing and fighting against it. A product of your mirrored and opposite natures.

“Why?” you say, teeth chattering a bit under the cold’s caress. “You have a girl in mind?”

That sounds nice. Being so hopefully devoted to someone, and them to you, that you might war against destiny for it. The thought only nurses hurt somewhere deep in your chest, though. Not for you. Never for you. You could be the prettiest on this Earth, the kindest, the most disciplined, or the least even. Still, that would never be yours. You know that, so why does it taste so bitter?

A quick look, something new, passes over him. In his eyes, you see it. He looks at you for a long minute, the morning so quiet that nothing but tranquility hangs in the air for a moment, and then finally says, “Yeah. Something like that.”

Entirely intrigued, you ask, “Who? Is she a Lady?”

Beomgyu nods his head, that strange look lingering. “Of sorts,” he answers, crossing his arms over his chest to lean back into the bark. “And your betrothed? Some well-off Lord?”

A smile ghosts over your mouth. “Probably. I haven’t a clue who it is; but I’m sure he’s got enough coin to spare, if my parents settled on him.”

The lines of his face gone playful, he says, “Not possibly more well-off than me.”

Your nose crinkles. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say. A husband with money is nice. You can’t pretend that you don’t think of that, especially that none of your family’s wealth belongs to you, nor will it follow you into your marriage. Your heart revolts regardless.

Shrugging after a few beats of silent considering, he turns his attention on the lake. His face turned like that, you admire the straight slope of his nose and his eyelashes as they flutter with his heavy eyes. Like the rest of him, his side profile is a contradiction. Strong and noble, but elegant like hewn from marble. It’s perfect. With all the talk in your ears, you’d pictured something far off from the youthful, wry man stood before you. Why you’d come to imagine him brutish, you’re not sure; he’s as much swan as you. Different and mirrored all the same.

“I used to come here all the time,” he says.

“Here? To the lake?” You perk up. This had been your hideaway as a girl; where you’d come at times like this when you needed to bury something away. You thought it’d been just yours. “I wonder how we never ran into each other. I used to do the same. I guess, I still do.”

When his eyes fall back on you, they’re softer. More deep brown than black, but maybe it’s because you’re closer now. He says, “Well, I came here once or twice on my own, maybe when I was five. I didn’t really start coming back until I saw you. You were crying, all snotty, and throwing bread out for some ducks.”

Your face twists up, maybe at the memory or maybe with confusion. It seems like if he’d really come here so often, and had even seen you here, you’d have noticed. “You must have thought I was weird,” you say, the words coming out around a shiver.

“Maybe,” he says through a wry smile that’s cracked over his lips. “But mostly, I just wished I could talk to you.”

He’d watched you, because he couldn’t approach you? You were under the impression that the prince had never cared for the rules, not even one so paramount as that. But, it seems that his brashness came to him later. He stands in front of you now, doesn’t he? Maybe it was just that innocent trust that, as children, you levy out to those arounds you. Especially toward adults; and all of those had preached over moments like this. You imagine a young, curious Beomgyu, hiding himself away between bushes, itching to approach or play with you. But he never did; you hadn’t the slightest clue he’d even been there until now. Could you two have been friends, if not for the curse?

“You never came out,” you say. “Or introduced yourself?” It’s all you can really think.

His mouth twitches. “Would you have stayed?”

No. Then, you don’t think you would’ve. Even now, you’re stricken with the innate fear of touching him, no matter how surprised you are at how different he is. Different from what they said he’d be. You think you would’ve darted, should you have known who he was. For some reason, that makes your heart ache. A dark ebbing wave of ache that you are unfamiliar with.

A slight knowing smile danced over his features, eyes gone to sweet crescents that turn them, usually so dark, into something rounded. Not so abrasive. He tilts his head off to one side and says, “You’re freezing. How long have you been out here?”

Cheeks long been numb, you answer, “An hour. Maybe and a half?”

“I’ll walk you home.”

You grimace. Arriving with him by your side, the man you quite literally were not supposed to even speak with, is the very last thing you should do. An awful idea. “I wouldn’t bother you. It’s probably not the best idea to show up after disappearing, with a man by my side. Especially not as a to-be-married woman,” you say. “But, thank you. Really.”

He knows what you really mean, though. A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Alright,” he says. “I suppose we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

As he begins to turn, making for wherever he’d come here from, you call out to him. “Hey, wait. Your jacket.” You pull it off your shoulders and joust it out at him. Against your skin which it had warmed, the air is bitterly cold.

“Keep it, princess,” he says, giving you a parting nod. “Get home warm.”

Today, you are to give your hand to a man that you do not know.

In the air, the rich nuttiness of fire-toasted chestnuts dance and mingle with the roar of chatter. Hundreds of familiar and unfamiliar faces line long tables with runners decorated by platters of plump, sugar-dusted plums and fruit pies. They’ve all come in their winter’s best—whites and reds and luxurious furs lining thick, velvety fabrics or embroidered with sparkling threads and studded with crystals that twinkle in the low firelight. It’s warm and lovely and all just for you.

But, you don’t feel any of that. All you feel is a heavy belly. Each smile you tug over your mouth feels like dead weight. You’re familiar with this—putting on the act. Smiling in faces that you know will turn around and have something else to say about you, pretending like you don’t know that it’s all false sweetness. You’d been trained in noble propriety since you could walk and talk.

But, considering that they’ve all come here to shower you with gifts and lovely words for a marriage in which they could really not care about beyond how they make it a profit, it’s all a bit more sour.

You’ve met your promised. The man you’re supposed to wed and spend the entirety of your life beside. You spoke with him for... what, two minutes? Two very awkward, very awful minutes. What should you have to say to each other? You’re meeting for the first time today. At your engagement feast. It’s a real conscious effort to not take your lip into your mouth and gnaw, or to not fuss over your hair, or honestly anything that might show these people that you are anything but pleased.

So, you relent to their gaudy pleasantries. You listen to them tell you that it’s such a blessing to be married to a man of high society—and a wealthy one, too. They tell you that they knew your marriage would bring a great dowry; that all the white swans have. That they were watching and expecting it. All you hear is the dripping of greed; all you see is hungry eyes and fingers crossed behind backs.

You relent to it until your stomach is sick and wrought with it. And then, the older lady ahead of you singing praises of your beauty, of how she wishes her daughter might catch the eye of a husband as advantageous as yours, does something out of the ordinary. Her eyes drift behind you, her snooty, pinched features twisting up into something new. You follow her gaze.

Dark and beautiful and his eyes trained right on you, the black swan prince stands beside you. He’s lazed, a heavy cup of some thick, spiced and wintery drink in one hand, as he does. In the clear light of morning, he’d looked so out of place. But here, soft and hard planes of his face illustrated by the flickering orange firelight, he looks so right.

You blink. And then blink again. Never once had Beomgyu made any sort of appearance at any hosted thing by your family. You just stand in place for a moment, registering his presence.

“You look lovely, princess,” he says. His eyes fall up and down you. The way he says it—it’s liquid smooth, but it’s taunting in a way. “The perfect image of a bride-to-be.”

He can’t be here. He can’t be here at all. When you look to the side, the woman is already gone. You have no doubt in your mind that she’s whispering in somebody’s ear right now.

“Prince,” you say, gritting your teeth while also dipping into an elegant curtsy.

“Do you feel that way?” He raises his eyebrows at you, his gaze heavy with underlying tension. “A perfect bride? Happy?”

Making the conscious decision to not look around you, because you can already feel the burning interest of the eyes that you’ll find on you, you say, “I do. Isn’t this quite the feast?”

“I told you that you don’t have to lie to me, princess.”

You shouldn’t even be standing here talking to him. They’re all watching. Stepping back to cut conversation with something witty, you stop in the onslaught of a chorus of surrounding gasps.

Beomgyu had reached out to grab you, and only stopped himself short the same way he had the first time you met him. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he brings his hand down, curling the fingers as if to wash away the urge to reach out.

He’s closer now, too. His breath smells sickly sweet with the liqueur he drinks. A sarcastic grin over his lips, he says, “Did he pay for all this?”

You do a dance of give and take. You step back, and he meets it with a step toward you, all the way until you find yourselves in a quieter corner. “He did sponsor the feast, yes.”

“Well, isn’t that just great,” he says, voice carrying over the many layered sounds of the gathering. “And that makes you happy? You feel fulfilled by that? Is that the purpose of the lovely white swan?”

You’re not sure what he’s getting at, or why your marriage is any of his business. For some reason, though, despite those rational thoughts, some faraway memory whispers that it makes every bit of sense. “He is a lovely man.”

Barking a laugh, Beomgyu says, “Don’t make me laugh. You don’t believe that, no matter how many times you tell it to yourself.”

You curl your fingers into the obnoxious, glittering material of your dress. “Seriously, what makes you so sure?” you say. “What makes you so sure you know? This is good for me. This is the way things are supposed to go. Not everybody in this world can get away with serving only themselves and doing whatever they want. Maybe it works for you, but not for the rest of us. I’m glad your life is fun, though. Really.”

His face doesn’t sharpen into offence, though you brace for him to. You’ve never spoken to anybody like that. Ever. Shaking his head, raven locks glowing warm around the edges, he says, “Because I know. I know. Are you listening to me? You don’t have to lie to me.”

Balking at him, you don’t know how to answer. That was nowhere near the answer you were expecting from the prince, known and notorious for his chaos and fire.

“I am listening,” you say, keeping your voice measured. Thick emotion slips through the seams. “Honesty has never done me any good. This is going to happen; all honesty is going to do is hurt me. So, I’m sorry.”

His mouth opens to fire something back, but you don’t hear it. Somebody digs their fingers into your upper arm, dragging you without a word away from your conversation. You stumble, letting them take you without a fuss. This was to be expected. You shouldn’t look back. If today was already going to be the last day you ever see him, it certainly is now that you’ve been caught not only in touching distance to him, but making conversation with him.

Tossing a self-betraying glace over your shoulder, you find his figure. Hand in pocket and his lips turned down, he watches you go.

You wish you wouldn’t have. You have no explanation for the emptiness it casts into your chest.

Recently, you’ve been crying so much. You might believe that it’s because you’ve been letting yourself feel freely, but you don’t feel free.

Your palms are soaked against your cheeks, face fallen into them as you shudder with it. Their words pin and scrape in your head, forcing you to contend with them before bouncing off the walls and you hear them again and again until your stomach has gone sick. Your parents had given you an earful. That’s been your whole life; you can handle that. The moment you saw him there, intending to speak to you, you’d prepared for it. Instead, it was their contempt and sneering faces that bleed your heart like this.

In this life, you are alone. Totally, wholly alone. Who you are—your role in life—is not the blessing they claim it to be. Is it selfish to ask to be understood? For somebody to just understand, without your pleading or begging?

Maybe. It feels that way, anyway.

“Why is it that I always find you crying?”

His voice freezes you to where you sit sprawled on your floor. Spinning to him, you say, “What are you doing?”

Beomgyu shrugs, as though he hasn’t snuck his way into your room. “I felt bad for getting you dragged off. Wanted to come see how you’re doing.”

Maybe his insisting on being around you should be annoying, but right now… You think you appreciate the company, even from the forbidden likes of him. “You can’t be here,” you hiss. “How did you get in? They’ll… if they find you here…”

His boots squeak against the polished flooring as he approaches you, and then settles down on the floor with you. The fire flickering behind him, his back to it, casts an orange light around the edges of his figure. He looks terribly inviting, like this: strewn on the floor, no holier or better than you, his face not sickly sweet nor cold and devoid of love, and his eyes curious to know how you feel.

“I don’t care what they’ll do to me. I want to see you.” He tugs his jacket off, letting it fall on the dirty floor. Improper for a prince, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. That’s who he’s always been—that’s the one thing that was entirely true out of all the things you heard about him. “Who the hell cares about their approval? We don’t need it.”

You know what he means by they and we. Only a few days ago, you’d still believed that Beomgyu was other; that he was your total opposite, and that you should fear his darkness for all your lightness. All it’s taken is being around him the once or twice that you’ve been able to for you to realize the falsity that drips from that. When you’re around him, your soul, feathery and wispy in your chest and your veins and all the rest of you that constitutes you beyond what is physical, tugs. It’s impossible to ignore—it consumes you. Where your soul longs for him around the edges, like torn and searching for what’s been lost, you feel stuff that is beyond yourself.

Rather than your opposite, you think that Beomgyu is your other half. You think that they’ve gotten it all wrong.

“How do you do it?” you say, back up against a white, whorling table leg. “How do you not care? I don’t understand.”

Inky eyes shining, he says, “I did. When I was young, I believed everything they told me. It’s hard not to, when it’s all you hear. Them, telling us that our purpose is to surrender ourselves to be something Saint-like. But when you catch one lie, you begin to catch the others, too. I saw their excuses and reasonings peel. Princess, it’s all lies. Everything you know is lies.” He says it with such conviction. Each and every word reaches down into that part of yourself that is missing something. “We’re not their Saints. That’s never been our purpose. I hate that shit; I hate that they’ve made you think that this is all you’re for. Marrying him? Never doing anything, because you’re scared of what it’ll mean for you? It’s not fucking fair.” He pushes himself closer to you. Now, your criss crossed knees are so close that a stray move might mean the world’s end. This time, you don’t panic. There’s no room for that among the swarm of your other thoughts. “So, of course I don’t give a shit about what they tell me to do. I’m going to live this life the way that it’s supposed to be. I wish that you could join me.”

“This life?” you blurt. It’s the one thought that appears clear to you, so it’s what comes out. Frowning, you add, “What lies?”

Deadpanned and as though he’s not delivering something that changes the world’s fabric around you, Beomgyu says, “There is no curse. There’s never been a curse.”

Your room is silent for a few moments, and then you shake your head and laugh. “How would you know that?” you say, nose wrinkling. If you don’t laugh, you’ll begin to actually consider the possibility of that. Just the very surface of the notion makes you nauseous. You couldn’t handle exploring the thought deeper.

Beomgyu doesn’t laugh along with you. “The curse is a lie, and everything that comes with it. All of it is just excuses or justification for the hate for the other people. The whole reason that they ever decided on it was because of their hate. Maybe to the people alive now, it’s not a lie. But that’s what it started as.” His face, dark and soft as he reads your face, twists up. “Of course, we can touch. We are two halves of a whole. There is you in me, and I in you. Do you not feel it? The tug? That’s it. The black swan and the white swan were never meant to be apart and opposite. We are meant to be together. We’re meant to be the only ones that understand each other. It’s us against the world, princess.”

Your ears ring with the pierce of each word cascading out from his mouth. “Beomgyu, I don’t understand. That doesn’t… Make sense. How?” He can’t just make claims about that. Not something like this. It’s not fair.

“I know it’s hard to believe, princess. It’s all you’re ever made to believe. But you have to trust me. Do you trust me?”

Tongue darting out to wet your lips and your fingers stilling where you fuss at the fabric of your chemise, you take a good look at him. Roaming over his features, the contradiction in them and the strange familiarity that constitutes him no matter the fact that you’ve only just met, you consider it. Everything he says is absurd, and it does go against everything you’ve ever known. You should turn your nose up at him for even suggesting it; should suspect that he only has some sort of plan to coax you into bringing the world’s end.

But, you do. You trust him beyond explanation, as though intrinsically.

You nod slowly, holding his eyes in yours. “But I don’t understand,” you say. “How do you know?”

He smiles ruefully. “I saw something—had a dream when I was young. I saw us, in every last lifetime. We have lived again and again, as we are, in so many different ways. But the one thing that was always there was that they couldn’t keep us away from each other.”

The world does a few spins around you. Lightheaded, you try to stay up under the oppressive gravity of that. You want to stick your head in the ground and shake your head and yell no, but that deep tugging that has plagued you beginning the moment you’d met him, and all the emptiness before it, tells you yes.

How poetic is that? How tragic? You, two souls born to be one, made to live apart at the interests of the world around you. Made to do it across every lifetime, and yet, in each you meet. In each, the twinkling thread of fate prevails nevertheless.

“Do they all love?”

That soft smile still playing on his lips, his cheek to his knee as he looks at you with the veneration of somebody who might’ve loved you in a thousand lifetimes before, and perhaps in this one, too. “No. Some of us were secret lovers, but so many of those lived how you do for the entirety of their life. Halved,” he says. “And never did any of them touch.”

Heart fluttering with wings in your chest, you say, “So, how do you know that the curse is a lie? If it’s never been done before?”

“Let me show you,” he says. “That I can touch you.”

All the blood in your body pulls back. You trust him; you do. But is trust enough to risk a touch that could be the end of the world? Is trust enough to be so selfish to do so?

Seeing you blanch, Beomgyu’s eyes go glassy. “Please,” he says, voice breaking as if to touch you might mean more than just proving something to you. As if the weight of everything he’s ever wanted rests on the back of it working—that if this works, and the world does not fall apart around you, then he can love you how he does, and how he had so many times before. Inevitably. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Beomgyu,” you say, looking between his eyes and the twitch of his hand as it itches to touch you. “I don’t… I’m scared.” Your voice drops to nothing more than a whisper.

“It’s okay,” he says, bringing that longing hand up. Your heart jumps when he raises up by your face. “You can be selfish this once. I want to see you do something because you want to, not because it’s what you think others might want.”

Your throat burns and tightens. Every last sparkling bit of your being longs to lean into his touch—to do what you two have wanted to do so many times before, and finally bring your souls back together. “What if it happens?” you ask, your eyes soft and true like an animal turning its soft underbelly to receive affection.

“Then let it,” he says. “At least we would have touched. Just this once.”

Gritting your teeth and swallowing hard, your belly does itself up into knots. You don’t answer him, but your quiet speaks enough. His hand hovers beside your face with the weight of the world in it.

The first touch of the white swan and the black swan happens in a gentle cupping of your cheek. And, the world does fall down around you. The walls melt, air leaves, and the seams of everything that’s even been good or true are ripped out and sewn with something new and beautiful. It’s as explosive and cosmic as you imagined it, but it is not terrifying. It’s lovely.

Your breaths shudder, your lungs trembling as you look into his eyes and realize what this means.

“Fuck,” is all Beomgyu breathes. It looks as though that it’s all he can manage. His touch grows more solid as the both of you realize that the both of you are still very much here, and so is the world. Thumb pad grazing over the softness of your cheek, his throat bobs with a swallow. You think that if you were to press your hand over his chest, you might feel it thudding there to the same thunderous rhythm that yours beats to.

So, you do. Because you can touch him. His heart sings beneath your palm, even through fabric and flesh. You can’t help the wobbling of your lip and the hot tears that spill out past your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The second touching is the bringing together of your lips. His mouth is soft and hard against yours, contradictory as the rest of him. He brings his other hand up to hold your face into his kiss. It’s not sweet and slow—it’s as ground-rumbling as the kiss between intertwined souls coming together after an eternity of being away. Each nip and lick and clash of teeth are like the claps of thunder of the storm that will end the world, his hand sliding up the back of your neck to card his fingers through the hair at the back of your head like the claws of a beast sent to ensure its end.

And, maybe Beomgyu is the beast that has come to end the world. You wonder how he’d waited so long to bring the truth to you, or if he was torn about ever telling you. What changed things, after so many years of him watching you from afar? Your engagement? Perhaps that’s what that drink in his hand had been: a thing to forget with.

It hadn’t worked. As he kisses you for all the lifetimes in which you couldn’t, you know that he couldn’t have accepted that and moved on. Of all the black swans that have lived and passed, Beomgyu must be the most stubborn and strong-willed. That’s why, out of every single life, this is the first that you touch. He would take the world on, or play with the existence of it, for this. Just for you. All for you—you’d found somebody who will do something just for you. Curling your fingers into the front of his tunic just over his chest, you pour the fire of that revelation into your kiss.

He roams his hands all over you, mapping your shape. You kiss and kiss, lips tugging and twisting against each other, and still it isn’t enough. Bracing a splayed palm over your lower back, he does not stop kissing you even as he lays you back onto the ground. The flooring is cold against your burning body. He supports his weight on one hand beside your head and straddles your hips to do nothing but run his fingers through your hair and just kiss you.

Only when your lungs are too hungry to ignore does he free your mouth. His soft black hair dangles over his starry eyes as he looks down at you with them. Lips swollen and smeared with you, his chest heaves. Bringing his free hand up, he wipes your wet cheek.

“Oh my god,” you say, breathless. “Beomgyu.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, he laughs. “I like when you call me that. I think I want to make you scream it—scream it until they come breaking down your doors and see that we are each other's. Until your fiancé hears it.”

Body bursting at the seams at the prospect, you nod frantically and dip your face into his neck to dust starry kisses there, too. He shudders. “I want it so bad. Can you please?”

“Of course I can. I’m going to make love to you, okay?” He pushes off you, crawling back so that he’s sat squatted just before your knees as you pin them together. “Open your legs, princess. Show me how pretty you are—I’ve waited so long for it.” He pats on the outer side of your knee.

Thrill spiraling up from between your thighs like sparks, you oblige slowly. You let your legs fall open for him, and choke on your own heart as he begins to slowly work your dress up the expanse of your legs, and then your thighs, baring to him the plush and unseen skin there. He eats it up wildly, his eyes gone ravenous and even blacker.

“I’ve never done this before,” you say, voice trill and unsure. “I don’t know what to do.”

A wicked grin cracks over his features. “I know, princess.” The fabric bunches at your thighs, now. You tremble with the stifling anticipation. “I’m going to take care of you. It’s going to feel so good—I’m gonna make you feel so good. I have so many things I want to do to you. Lifetimes of things I want to make you feel.”

Doe-eyed and laying your trust in his hands, your thighs twitch and you nod. He reveals your cunt at last, finally catching the glistening sight of it for the very first time. And, he does not disappoint. The look that washes over his face—the twitching of his lips, the tightening of his jaw in a flickering muscle, and the fire razing your cunt in his eyes—is something so dreamlike, but lucid nonetheless.

“You just lay down and let me help you. Treat you how a princess should be treated.” He works on his pants, silver belt clinking and then loosening, and then he’s just as exposed as you when his length pops free. It’s hard already, tall and pretty like the rest of him, but pink and obscene at the tip. He leaks from the little slit at the top. “Look at you. You look like you want to taste it,” he says, laughing while collecting the liquid to pump himself a few times. “Next time, baby. I’d love to see the proper mouth of the world’s princess choking on my cock.”

The air is cold against the mess between your legs. It sends a chill up your spine—or maybe that was the crudeness of his words. You suppose you should’ve expected nothing less from him. When he goes to climb back over you and line himself up with you, your thighs twitch and try to snap shut.

He pins your hip to the floor. “Don’t be shy, baby. I wanna see that pretty pussy. It’s not fair to hide it from me.”

“Sorry,” you say, cheeks burning.

Taking that hand and sliding it up behind the back of one of your knees, pressing that thigh up to your torso, he laughs a teasing laugh down at you. “Don’t say sorry,” he says. He holds his length adjacent to your slit and then begins to slip up and down the length of it. “Just let me fuck you. I need it so bad.” He hisses in tandem with you. The drags of his length, harder than how you thought a cock might feel, is like undiluted liquor. “I can’t believe this… shit, princess. I’m about to fuck you. I thought I was going to have to sit here and watch you by his side.”

You take your lip into your teeth when he pushes in. It stretches. You bring your hand up to cup the back of his neck and the other to dig into his tunic, mewling softly.

“It’s okay, princess. Hold on to me, you can take it, right? You cunt was built for me. Everything about you was made for me. Your heart, your pretty hands for me to hold, your sex, all of it. Do you feel how I fit right into you? How I was made to?”

You do. When he finally is balls-deep, his cock nestles exactly where it should. Not an inch too deep or an inch too scarce. The two of you were sculpted by something holy, fit just for each other. “Yes,” you breathe.

He can’t even linger sitting still in you. He begins pulling himself out, all the way until the tip of him threatens to pop out lewdly, before shoving back in right up against that spot. He doesn’t even have to search for it. Head falling into your chest, he licks and bites. “The taste of you,” he says. Then, he presses his tall nose right over that spot in your neck where your heart’s gone wild. “The smell of you.” Wincing, he lays into you with more vigor, hips slapping against your skin. “The feel of you. You drive me up the fucking walls. How was I ever supposed to live without this?” he says. “I refuse.”

Your belly begins to tighten in a way that you’ve never known. Tears prick the corner of your ears, clinging to him as he fucks you into the floor like he’ll never have to opportunity to have you like this again. The wood cradles your back and the back of your hips, receiving each of his thrusts. You curl your toes and will back the lewd cries that threaten to spill over with each.

His voice is taut and wobbly. “Feels good, huh? I know. It feels… so good.” Dropping your thigh to cup your face, he says, “Cry. Cry for me. I said I wanted you to scream.”

Face burning and squirming against the hardwood behind you, you shake your head. “I can’t, gyu…”

“Yes you can,” he says, face twitching. “I want you to start letting it out, or I’m gonna stop. Do you want me to stop?”

Covering your face, with the back of a forearm, you grit your teeth through each punctual and yet sloppy grind up into you. Your bodies sweat and meld, and you’re sure that anybody walking by your quarters would know just by the hollow smacks of skin and grunts that you’re fucking a man. You, an engaged woman, are letting the prince turn your brain inside out.

But, there is nothing you want less than for him to stop. So, you let your mouth drop open and allow the sweet mewls to come with each rut.

“There we go. Louder.” He braces himself, digging his feet into the floor, and then he really starts driving into you. Sparks fly in your belly—each yellow and glowing and scalding. “Do I need to fuck you harder? C’mon, louder, princess.”

Thighs squeezing his hips so tight that they ache, you squirm. You struggle against your sounds—turning from sweet moans and mewls, you groan and gasp and your voice breaks. Each collision of your bodies breaks your sounds.

Curling your fingers into his silken hair, you grit out, “H—hoooh fuck, Beomgyu, Beomgyu, I feel… like…”

Bangs sticky and his eyes growing wilder, he knows something you don’t. The knowing, taunting grin on his mouth says enough. “Let it happen. Don’t fight it. Just stay—stay right there, and I’ll give it to you. No running from it; it’s gonna feel so good.” His muscles go taut, and he doubles down on his efforts, panting through his nose and his neck sheened. He drops his head into your chest. “Fuck. Fuckkkk, I love you so much, princess. Thank you—thank you, so much.”

You don’t know why he’s thanking you. You don’t have the cognitive function to worry about that. Your mind has gone to two things: the growls and whines that rumble and tear from his chest, and the frightening tightness that only goes more dangerous. Your chest tightens—it feels as though, if he feeds that hungry beast gnawing deep down in your belly with any more of what he’s doing now, it will snap and take you down in its wake. Warbled cries crawling up your throat, you arch your back up into his chest to try and dig your hips into the floor, away from the bliss and the power of it.

“No,” he says, cursing. “No—don’t run from it. Don’t… Baby, please take what I’m giving you. It’s gonna be alright.”

Pushing back on the dark throes of the tide as it creeps up over your shoulders and sends shocks through your body, the hair on the back of your neck rising with the effort, you choke. Beomgyu takes a hand down the seam of your bodies and rolls your aching clit. They’re succinct and intentional—pressure right on the sensitive underside, sending your belly rippling as he pairs it with a few more sharp, more meaningful thrusts.

You see white. It’s white and hot. You are the sun, beaming and writhing like stardust. You curve off the floor once more, raking nails down the lengths of his back. Are you even making sound? You don’t know; you can’t hear it past the ringing piercing sharp in your ears. You shake beneath him, cunt gripping him frantically with flutters of your walls.

He grunts, voice strained and shaking as he begins to follow his own release. “Holy shit—look at you. You’re so f-filthy. So pretty, cumming on me.”

You bare each brush of his cock against your still twisting walls, trembling as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your thighs jump and your toes curl, and it’s all too much, but not enough. He needs to come tumbling over the edge right along with you—if he comes with you, it doesn’t seem so hard. You chant his name, smooth voice gone hoarse.

Stilling inside you, he whines, “Shi—it.” A war wages behind his eyes for a long second before he slips his cock from you with a wet, squelching pop, strings of your release breaking as he lays his cock on your belly. His stomach goes tight, and with one last slide of his length, slick with your mess and staining your belly, his cock jumps. He shoots all over your skin, pretty glistening spurts like ribbons a milky white.

He sits back on his haunches, slowly rubbing himself off to give you some more and come down. Your room is quiet now, aside from your heaving chests and the buzz of something new in the air. Letting his head fall back, wet strands of spiky black hair dangle around his neck, a bead of sweat catching light as it rolls down it.

“Feel okay?” he says, looking down on you with softened eyes. He pulls cloth from his pocket, unfolding the fine fabric, and he wipes himself off your belly.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, leaning into the palm he cups your cheek with. “I’m okay.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “The world didn’t explode, did it?” he says.

You share a stolen laugh with him, feeling every last honey wave receding from the spot between your thighs. The world hadn’t ended, and yet, in every way, it had. Savoring the abated rises and falls of his chest and the content sagging of his shoulders, your belly tightens anew.

What happens now, when everything else has been a lie? When you don’t believe that you can survive that lie for any longer?

So many hands work on you. One of your ladies in waiting laces you up in the back, and another works on your hair even while you stand, and one bounces a wintry, snow-kissed rouge over the plush of your cheeks.

Yesterday, your world changed. And today, you’re expected to go on living in it.

When Beomgyu slipped out from your room last night after hours of holding each other under the covers, indulging in your ability to touch, you let your heart crack in two. You shouldn’t have. Why had you let yourself think that it was going to end up anything other than like this? You, getting prettied up to be sent away with your expecting husband, and the dreams you’d let build up to the clouds in the prince’s arms all shattered on the floor at your feet.

What else can you do? Loving Beomgyu freely is out of the question. Your parents would laugh right in your face, or maybe lock you away and make even more sure that you never get to see him again.

You try to burn the image of his eyes into your memory. Black, big and round and cunning all the while. You commit the broadness of his shoulders, and the pretty straight line of his nose in profile, and the pink plushness of his lips, and the little freckles you’d discovered yesterday, and the sound of his voice in your ear, and the feel of his touch on your skin, too.

“We’ll leave you until it’s time to come collect you,” a Lady says, bowing at the waist to you as the others finish up, tying the fastening of your dress up quick and sprinkling their final touches over you before following her out.

Your room goes utterly quiet. More quiet than it’s ever felt.

Dragging your limbs over to your bed, you let yourself fall onto it despite all the care they’d taken to get your skirts right. Resting your cheek to your palm, you let your eyes fall closed as you memorize the feel of your own bed, too.

When you flutter them open, there’s something peeking out from the pillow across from you. You furrow your brows and reach for it.

The paper is folded up with haste, torn from the edge of somewhere else and scribbled on with a quick hand. How long has that been there, without you noticing? Pushing yourself up from the bed, careful to at least maintain the smoothness of your hair, you unfold it.

ℳ𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝓉 𝒮𝑤𝑎𝑛 ℒ𝑎𝑘𝑒.

Your soul comes back to life and seeps through your bloodstream. Sitting there for a few moments, idle at the largeness of what you’re about to do, you loose a breath.

And then, you curl your hand around it, shove yourself up in a flurry of white, crystalline skirts, and you go.

The curious faces of the palace hands you pass do not stop you, nor does the morning’s bite as you find your way outside, nor does the almost-slip over ice, and absolutely nothing else stops you as you run. Is he still going to be there when you make it?

God, please let him be there. Don’t let this be almost.

Fists full of the abrasive fabric of your skirts and darting by barren bushes and trees, you do not stop until you clear the little tree line and the lake stands vast and frosty ahead of you.

When Beomgyu spots you, and you spot his figure against the background of the lake crisp in the morning, the sweet cooing of the birds and the rest of the bustle falls away. None of it compares.

“You came,” he says, dragging his feet through the snow until he’s right in front of you, his features elegant once more in the clear morning haze. “I didn’t think you would.”

You reach up to dust away snowflakes resting on his hair. It’s an excuse to touch him—that’s all you find yourself wanting to do, now. Brows pinching, you say, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just… was scared.”

“No, no, I came,” you say, feeling now the bare expanse of your arms. You run your hands up and down them. Heart in atrophy all the while feeling full just being here with him, you add, “Why did you want to meet here?”

The world is serene for a few long moments as he just looks at you, his gaze searching. “Don’t marry him. Don’t leave with him.”

You know where he’s going with this already. Letting your dress fall from your hands, the one they’d fashioned you in to do exactly that, you say, “And do what?”

“Be with me. Marry me. Be my wife,” he says, the lines of his face solemn. “Let’s elope and find a corner of the world that’s just ours, so that we will never have to hear another word from them again. Let’s just… be together. Finally.”

Chest swelling with something so hopeful that it’s painful, reality comes with its pin point and pops it. “Is that really what you want? You’ll take me, even though I’m promised to somebody else?”

His lip curls as though the thought were detestable. “What the fuck is a dowry to this? To the approval of the fates? The world could try snuff that fact out with whatever they’ll try, and a man could offer your parents a dowry of all its money, and still, you’d be mine. No matter what, our souls belong to each other.” His hand is frozen against your cheek. He’s been out here waiting for you for so long. “I’d take you, promised to another man. I’d take you no matter how you are; in a thousand different lives, I’d have you each time.”

That’s all you need to hear: that you are cherished for more than just your nature, but for yourself. That he loves you unendingly and undyingly, and all you have to do is leave by his side. You’ve already left it all behind—thrown any attachment to the wind, because truly, what is that to this? You don’t know where you’ll go, and you think Beomgyu hasn’t a clue either. But you’ll find that somewhere together.

Together, your half sings. His answers with a thrilling beat.

“This time,” he says, eyes blazing with conviction. You know he feels the tug, too. “We got it right.”

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note MY SHAYLAAAAA. MY SHAYLAAAAAAA!

﹙📋﹚ @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @bakugosbottombitch , @304files , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @ashistrashhhhhh , @no1likemybbgcharlie , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

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suksatoru · 6 months ago

Text

𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓁𝓈.

satoru gojo drabble ༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ

╰┈➤ satoru!gojo x reader ೃ⁀➷

synopsis; you catch the eye of the famous satoru gojo!

The first time he'd seen you, he was positively sure his eyes were playing some sort of a trick on him.

You had been sitting a few tables down, hands holding a book as your delicate brows were pulled in concentration. He watched you take a bite of the pastry in front of you - and was sure he was about to faint right then and there.

"What are you making that stupid face for?"

Megumi sat in front of him - who may have been speaking to him. Or maybe not - Satoru was too focused on you to even notice as he shook his head, still in a daze.

"Nothing!" Satoru says a little too happily, an attentive smile on his face as he watches you tuck your legs over one another - an elegant finger mindlessly twirling a strand of your hair as you continued reading the piece of literature in front of you

He follows his teachers line of sight to the pretty girl who's simply minding her own business, raising a brow as Satoru's rare show of genuine interest in a woman

"I'm gonna marry her." Satoru says proudly, and Megumi can only roll his eyes as he continues pushing the food around in his plate

"You better leave her alone. God forbid she has to encounter - Hey! Satoru Gojo wait!"

Megumi can only face palm as he watches Satoru giddily approach your table, hands in his pockets as he walks with long strides in your direction. He has the cheesiest smile on his face - and before Megumi knows it, his teacher is eagerly sliding into the chair across from you

He can see your smile as you engage into whatever despicable conversation Satoru must have trapped you in, but he can't seem to stop himself from craning his neck towards you to try and hear you guys better

He couldn't lie to himself - you were easily one of the prettiest girl's he'd ever seen. From your dazzling eyes to your sweet smile - he couldn't even blame Satoru for marching over to you with such a passion. Hell - maybe he would have done the same thing if he had the unrelenting pride of Satoru Gojo.

He huffed, slumping in his chair and ticked that his teacher had so quickly abandoned him. Every few minutes, he would hear his teachers unmistakable and very loud laugh, but Megumi couldn't stop the small smile that found it's way onto his face at the genuine pleasure in his teachers voice - a sound he did not hear too often.

Eventually, Satoru was waving goodbye to you as you left - presumably having somewhere to go. You were blushing as you tucked your hair behind your ear, cradling your book to your chest as he bid you farewell.

Megumi watched as Satoru walked back to their table with a shit eating grin on his face, the grown man was humming like some sort of love sick teenager, and it made Megumi scowl. He had a small slip of paper in his hand too - the pink ink on it signifying a phone number you must have given him

"You abandoned me? You know, we were talking about a very important upcoming mission, and - "

"I am totally going to marry her."

Megumi can only groan as he watches Satoru excitedly input your number into his phone - the contact name reading wifey, but not without a few dozen hearts placed right after the word.

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auroralwriting · 7 months ago

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jealousy, jealousy

bucky barnes x avenger!reader (no use of y/n)

bucky hates when his girl has to flirt with the enemy

word count: 1.5k | warnings: none

The whole idea of it was absolutely, utterly stupid.

Zemo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious when he couldn't leave your name out of his mouth during the whole Sokovia Accords issue. Now, he was up to no good once more after escaping prison, leaving the Avengers no choice but to find out what he was up to.

The only problem? He refused to speak. Well, he refused to speak unless it was with you.

Bucky felt rage creep up his whole body when Steve explained what you had to do. You had to actually pretend to be interested in every single word Zemo said, meaning even if he flirted, you had to just take it. Apparently, this genius idea was Tony's, and the rest of the team had agreed to it, meaning Bucky's opinion was next to worthless, especially when you already agreed.

He trusted you with every ounce of his being, and he knew you wouldn't do it if you couldn't handle it, but he hate the fact that Zemo was probably going to flirt your ear off. You were Bucky's girl, his doll, his special girl, his everything, not Zemo's.

Nonetheless, Bucly had to hold his tongue and silently nod as Steve explained.

"What're you thinking, Buck?" Steve asked, noticing Bucky's silent deminor.

"I'm thinking about how many ways I could murder Zemo," Bucky commented, eyes darkening.

Steve sighed, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder, "Bucky, she said she could do this."

"It's not her I don't trust, Steve. Imagine your girl getting hit on and you couldn't do jack shit to stop it. How would you feel then?" Bucky seethed, taking a deep breath in. "Sorry, that was hostile."

With a shake of his head, Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "I understand, Bucky. But we have to get to the bottom of Zemo's plan, and he won't talk unless its to her."

The whole team sat in silence, now gathered in the meeting room. The only noise was the whirl of the fan above their heads as they watched the live footage of you standing in front of Zemo's cell.

"Zemo," You said, crossing your arms. "Being stubborn as always, I hear."

A crooked smile formed on the man's face as he leaned his head on the bars, as close to you as he could get. "Darling, I just did not wish to speak to such insolent people such as the Avengers," Zemo scowled as he spoke. "But a dove as sweet as you? How could I pass?"

Bucky felt his fists clench tightly as he watched the interaction. God, he just wanted to deck this guy straight in the nose. Ever since the Sokovian first went on the run, he always seemed to make some time mid-battle to try and make some small talk with you. It annoyed not only Bucky, but everyone. No one talks that much during a fight. However, now that he was captured, it was the perfect time to use his infatuation of you to the team's advantage.

"Tell me, what do you have planned with those," You paused, grabbing your file and flipping through the loose pages, "Ah, 'weapons of double mass extinction' as you so delicately put it."

Zemo laughed, "Extinction is not my end goal if that is what you are asking my dove."

"It wasn't," You added as Zemo continued.

"However, I am just so excited to reveal what they will be used for." He smiled. Your brow shot up, waiting for his answer. "But seeing it will be the best reveal of all."

Sam sighed, watching this all carry on from where the team was still sat. "He's just gonna play games with her."

"She's smarter than you'd think, give her a chance." Natasha said, "I'd know, I trained her."

Tony stood up, "I don't like this, I'm ending it."

Bucky held up his hand, nodding. "For once, I gotta agree with Stark. I want my girl out of his sight."

Quickly, Steve stood up, "This is our only chance to find out what Zemo has planned. He won't lay a finger on her. Is it uncomfortable? Of course it is, none of us enjoy watching him flirt with her, but it'll work." Tony sat down as Bucky grumbled, all eyes falling back to the screen that showed you now closer to Zemo's bars.

"Would your wife really enjoy knowing you're flirting with me?" You slightly taunted, wanting to push his buttons.

"My wife is dead, but you already know of this." Zemo replied.

With a knowing nod, you pursed your lips, "She was Sokovian too, yeah?"

"We were all from Sokovia, my wife and son, as well as myself." Zemo answered.

"Born and raised?" You continued. Zemo gave a nod as you thought for a moment with a hum, "Were you there when Ultron attacked?"

Zemo nodded, "Yes. That is when my family was murdered."

"I'm sorry," You honestly replied. "Does it still bother you? Not your dead family, but the Sokovia thing. You know, the floating?"

A quick glance of the situation, and it would've looked like you were now just chatting with the enemy, but you held down a smirk as Zemo replied. "Of course I am. That was my home."

"New York could be your home now," You offered. "Turn yourself in and we can get you transferred here."

Zemo laughed, "I would not wish to be here after what will happen."

Boom. You looked up to the camera, "You all got that?" You asked the camera, knowing your team was watching. You grabbed your file, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Zemo. This was very informative." You grabbed your comm and pushed it down, "Stand-by. Send Stark-Bots to check perimeters of the state. Zemo's planning on making us levitate like Sokovia."

Face pale, Zemo stood up, yelling incoherent words that fell upon your deaf ears as you left the room. Bucky, who had seen it all, was already waiting for you outside. He was quick to grab you and hold you tight to his chest.

"I'm okay, Buck," You smiled, voice muffled from your face being pushed against his strong body.

Bucky shook his head, "I know, I just don't want you near that freak again."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words as you pulled away enough to give him a kiss. "You jealous of Zemo?"

"You played into it," Bucky muttered.

"It was all fake, love." You replied. "You know I'm your girl."

Bucky couldn't help but smirk, "Damn right you are." He turned to the door that lead to Zemo's cell. "You hear that? She's my damn girl!"

You couldn't help but feel your heart thump at Bucky's words. He was always so damn hot when he was jealous. "C'mon, show your girl how much you love her." You teased, Bucky's eyes falling on you once more. He was quick to grab your waist with his metal arm, pulling you in as his other hand rested on the back of your neck, pushing your face against his as his lips locked with yours, a tight, sloppy kiss ensuing in the middle of the hall.

"I'm never letting you do that again." Bucky muttered, pulling away to speak. His breath was hot on your cheek as he spoke. He pulled you into another wet kiss as a soft ahem came from behind you both.

"This is not a room, but I'm sure your horny asses could find one."

Bucky groaned as he turned around, "Do you have to ruin every moment?" He asked Sam who stood smugly.

He put his hands in the air, "I just wanted to congratulate Nat's best student on her great work. Especially the one where she made her soldier get all jealous"

"Thank you, Sam," You smiled, a light blush on your face.

Bucky took a pen out of his pocket and threw it at Sam, "Get outta here, man!"

"Alright, alright! No need for hostility." Sam defended as he walked away.

As Sam left, you gave a knowing smile at Bucky. "So jealous over my mission, huh?"

Bucky scoffed, feeling embarrassment creep in his chest, "I wasn't jealous."

"I think you were," You argued. "Over Zemo of all peopke."

"Only I can talk to you that way," Bucky said, voice nearly a whine. "You're all mine, not his or anyone else's, and he knows it."

You smiled, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek, "And that's probably why he loves doing it so much. You know he's got a thing against super soldiers. He's gonna do anything to get under your skin."

"And he chose the worst way to do it," Bucky muttered as you pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

Bucky looked at you with a goofy smile, pulling back. "C'mon, doll. We still got some work to do cleaning up Zemo's mess."

"Someone's feeling better," You teased as you both began to walk. "You'd better show me some more of that jealousy later," You suggested.

"Oh, I will," Bucky smiled. "You bet your fine ass I will."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #marvel fic #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes

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alchemistc · 3 months ago

Text

His eyes aren't the right shade of blue, but he opens up for Buck like a dream, lips wide and wet and -

"Fuck," Buck says, and when he digs his hand in the man's - Henry? Harry? - hair it's too fine, too straight.

Henry-Harry hums around him and Buck sort of just wants to fuck his face but that's rude, that's so fucking rude, he doesn't even remember the guys name -

Henry-Harry swallows and Buck's hips jut forward, but the lines around his eyes aren't groove-deep and heavy with warmth.

"Hank," Buck says, and the man's eyes dart up, his brow raises, his lips tip up and his tongue swirls and he never knows that Buck had only just remembered his name seconds before he came.

---

The date goes... fine. Kelsey is sweet and delicate and when her hand scratches at his stubble the tips of her fingers don't catch - soft, smooth, the hands of someone who spends eight hours a day behind a keyboard. She kisses like a dream, but the angle is all wrong.

She fucks like a dream too, but afterwards, when Buck shifts to curl around her she rolls her shoulder and gives him a confused look and Buck remembers that she's more than a foot shorter than him and her shoulders aren't really wide enough for -

Buck rolls and tucks her head under his chin and he thinks Tommy Kinard didn't really know shit about firsts and lasts.

---

The music is loud and the beat is heavy and the man with a thigh between Buck's legs is dark - twisting dreads that catch silver in the strobe light, deep brown skin, cheekbones Buck would break an ankle for.

Buck considers asking him if he wants to take this somewhere more private. Buck considers asking him if he wants to come home with him. Buck considers the heft of the thigh between his legs and remembers the first time Tommy had gotten him off, dick barely even out of his jeans because they'd been grinding like horny teenagers and -

His voice is deep and low when he tips his head to whisper in Buck's ear, the tenor all wrong.

Buck lets him tangle their fingers together as he heads towards the single stall bathrooms down the hall

---

"Ex... boyfriend?" Heather asks, and there's a wrinkle around the shape of her mouth that sets Buck's teeth on edge, because hadn't the whole point of this been that Buck needed to play the field? He likes men. He likes women. He can't pick a number on the Kinsey scale because all he can think about is -

"I'm bi," Buck says, and her expression withers. That seems to be the default - men think he's waiting for the woman who will give him a picture perfect family, women think he's - "It was right there at the top of my profile. With a flag and everything."

Her nose scrunches. She's trying to play it off. She's clearly not one of the women who think it's hot. "Sometimes men do that just to like, seem less intimidating."

Buck's already reaching for his wallet. "And sometimes men just like dick as much as -."

Her hand draws over her heart and it reminds Buck of his mom and not in the teasing way he'd always told Tommy the same thing.

He apologizes to his server and hands her a twenty in his way out the door.

---

Jack is two weeks younger than Buck to the day.

He's beautiful. Auburn hair trimmed neatly, cow-brown eyes, a sharp jawline and scruff that never seems to go past six-pm shadow. He's sweet - not a mean bone in his body, and the first time he hangs out with Buck and Eddie he shoots Eddie a shocked look when he pokes fun at Buck.

He lasts two and a half months.

But Buck knows the game now. Buck isn't looking for forever. Buck is -

Buck is Buck. That's what he'd said in the end, anyway.

"I'm really sorry, Jack," Buck says, fingers drifting from their hold between Jack's.

Jack's smile is just a little sad, but far too understanding. "Hey, I've been an in-betweener before. It was fun while it lasted."

---

Either Tommy's blocked his number or he's really fucking good at swiping out of his notification previews.

Buck thinks about leaving a really shitty, incredibly mean hearted voicemail instead.

You're a coward sits Delivered for three months

---

Ashley's a nurse, and when she admits she's only ever dated women before Buck feels the sting of it, but he smiles all the same. He's chasing a feeling he hasn't been able to find since -

She stares at the sparse decoration of his loft and doesn't say a word.

"So, like -." Buck starts, but she tangles her fingers in his shirt and presses her lips to his and Buck realizes the stupidly large box of condoms he'd bought for his sex-a-thon the first four off after he'd finally convinced Tommy to fuck him is almost out.

Buck spends half an hour with his head between her legs before the tug in his curls gets insistent, and Buck tries not to think, for a while

---

"You're a firefighter?" Travis asks, head tilted excitedly, eyes on the LAFD tee hanging half out of his laundry basket. "Have you ever worked with the guys at Harbor?"

Five and a half months - nearly as long as they'd been together - and Buck considers asking Travis to leave instead of answering. He's got a heart shaped face and Buck can't detect a wrinkle on him. No smile lines around his eyes.

"Flew into a hurricane with them once."

Buck's not sure they ever left the eye.

---

Maddie gives birth on a Thursday. Miraculously they're all off shift except Eddie.

They name his nephew John Evan Buckley-Han and Buck spends an hour watching him sleep before he remembers exactly how long it's been since he'd last heard his name.

---

you haven't though, Buck sends, while Eddie presses him into the Uber and makes Buck promise to text him when he's home.

All the messages in the thread above have a Read receipt.

The dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Haven't what?

seen me around, Buck sends back, and it shows as Delivered long after his Uber drops him off and he shoots off a message to Eddie once he's collapsed in bed. He's gonna regret that last shot in the morning.

He should have gone home with the redhead instead of letting Eddie convince him to stay and play another round of darts.

---

Greg presses a kiss to Buck's birthmark and Buck politely peels himself off Greg's very nice mattress and tugs on his briefs. "Here for a good time, not a long time, huh?" Greg asks, and Buck remembers that this had always been unsatisfying.

He thought he'd found something he could build on. Turns out he wasn't making shit.

"Sorry kid," he says, sparing a glance at Greg's slim shoulders and the washboard abs that he'd make it his mission to look a little less dehydrated, if this were something serious. Maybe some lasagna in the freezer, the gnocchi he'd learned to make once Tommy got tired of flicking flour in Buck's hair.

"I'm like, five years younger than you."

Buck's already searching for the shirt Greg has tossed off the side of the bed half an hour ago.

---

Did you want me to?

Buck stares at the message for a full five minutes. Glares at it, really.

No, he lies, and leaves it at that.

---

He's not even at work when it happens. He's on a fucking date, and the television over the bar switches to a breaking news story about a helicopter crashing just off the 405.

Whatever Yarrow is saying to him gets lost when he sees the numbers dashed across the side of the hunk of smoldering metal that had once been an LAFD chopper.

---

Bobby meets him at the bay doors.

Eddie's already there too.

It's not good news. It's not bad news, either.

Buck only met Tommy's captain once, and he can see now that there were cracks, walls Buck hadn't realized he hadn't yet climbed, but she recognizes him and pulls him off to the side.

"Do you not answer your phone, Buckley?"

He's got six missed calls. The moment he'd texted the group chat and left Yarrow with the tab for the terrible IPA he'd gotten a taste for in those six months when the future had been clearer, he'd forgotten phones actually existed.

"I - sorry, were you trying to reach me?"

"You're listed as his ICE, Buckley."

Buck can't remember them ever even having that conversation.

"He'll survive," she says, voice firm, eyes unyielding. "You can't wring his neck about it until he's out of the woods, and he's a glutton for punishment."

---

"I have some things to say," Buck says, and Tommy eyes him warily from the bed where he's propped. They'd only pulled tubes ten minutes ago, and technically Tommy isn't allowed to speak for a bit. "We're gonna circle back around to the fact that you made me your in case of after you broke up with me once you can talk, so don't forget that."

He looks - guilty. Annoyed. Clears his throat and winces, scowls when Buck hands him the cup of ice chips but still uses two meaty fingers to grab a handful that he tosses into his mouth and chews. Loudly.

Buck leans back in his chair and stares at the cast on Tommy's leg, the bruising around his eyes, the flat mess of his curls.

"And if you call me Buck again I'm telling Angie you asked to have the morphine drip removed." It's a joke, and a lame one at that, but Tommy's eyes twinkle.

---

It's almost a year to the day when Tommy snags his wrist and reels him in for a kiss, hand palming Buck's ass as he noses at Buck's cheek and nearly trips over the last of the boxes Buck had gotten distracted from moving out of the hallway.

"You have too much shit," Tommy tells him, and Buck mostly thinks he's pissed that he still hasn't fully regained the muscle mass in his leg yet. He's lopsided and a little clumsy but every time Buck brings it up he inevitably ends up with a video of himself slipping all over an ice rink in the group chat, so he keeps it to himself.

"You love it."

Tommy's eyes soften when Buck runs a hand through his curls, the grooves of his smile just right. "I tolerate it. You, though..."

Buck isn't ashamed to admit he still feels butterflies every time Tommy says it.

"You I don't mind."

Buck scowls just to watch Tommy's face brighten mischievously. The hands around his waist are wide and strong and the finger pads catch in the worn cotton.

#bucktommy #bucktommy ficlet #tevan ficlet

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acciotaitlynn · 5 days ago

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⋆˙⟡ As a humble lady's maid to the princess of Philos, you often find yourself crossing paths with her charming brother, Prince Xavier. His piercing blue eyes and mischievous smile never fail to catch your attention, and soon, he begins to pursue you relentlessly. His courtship is overwhelming and exciting, but as you grow closer, you realize his intentions may not align with your own desires. You can't bear the thought of living a life where your love must be kept hidden, so you make the difficult decision to end things with him, breaking his heart in the process. As Xavier stands at a crossroads between his love for you and his duty as future king, he wrestles with the weight of choosing between tradition and true love, unsure if he can bear to live without you or if he will risk everything to have you by his side as queen.

“This flower, much like the one who now holds it, is unique and precious beyond measure," he continues, ignoring the curious stares and whispers of those around you. Stepping closer, his next words are meant only for your ears, a secret shared under the watchful eyes of the court. "And just like this flower, you were meant to be mine."

── .✦ prince xavier & fem!reader

── .✦ sexual content, 18+, porn w plot, forbidden love, Angst, there's a wedding! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ i gave xav a sis & parents, really possessive/dom xavier + sub fem!reader, sweet & spicy, dancing, masturbation, oral;꒰f&m receiving꒱ fingering, public sex/consummation ceremony, exhibitionism, slight breeding kink/mentions of pregnancy, xav is... experienced ¬‿¬ teasing, edging, a little marking/claiming, kitty play, bondage/sight deprivation, sensory play, sadomasochism, light paddling, face-fucking, angel/my love/good girl/princess & my prince/your highness used, pls let me know if I missed anything importantㅤ♡

⊹ 22k wc; i even cut some ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i really hope you like it <3

You thought you had known true beauty—the kind that steals your breath and makes you question all you hold true. You were certain you had seen it in the wild, untamed waves of a stormy sea or in the soft glow of a fire as you warmed your damp body later that night. But now, perfection stands before you with pale silver hair that glimmers in the sunlight and delicate features that seem almost ethereal. He's like a sculpture come to life, every contour and curve crafted with impeccable precision. As he bends over a budding bloom in the palace gardens, his graceful movements seem to match the gentle swaying of the nearby trees. The contrast between his pale skin and the vibrant blue forget-me-nots he holds is striking, highlighting his flawless complexion.

His long, slender fingers—every bit as achingly beautiful as the rest of him—reach out to gently caress the petals of the flower, almost as if it were a precious jewel. The intense urge to move closer to him nearly overwhelms you, but a sliver of reason remains, reminding you to maintain your composure. So instead, you retreat silently, seeking cover behind a nearby tree to watch from a distance. Though you’ve only served as the crown princess’s lady’s maid for a week and haven’t yet met everyone in her circle, there is no mistaking this man's identity—he’s her older brother, Xavier. And in this moment, surrounded by nature's splendor and with such a breathtaking sight before you, you understand why she always speaks so highly of him. He truly is a vision of beauty and gentleness beyond compare.

A voice inside you screams in warning to stay hidden, predicting that any interaction with the prince before you will result in a catastrophic change to your existence. Your heart races as the fear takes hold, containing the unknown terror that grips your mind and soul. A powerful magnetic force seems to pull at every fiber of your being, connecting you to the prince standing before you through an invisible thread. Overwhelming panic consumes you, pushing you back towards the safety of the palace at lightning speed. With each step away from Xavier, you pray for the unexplainable connection to break, desperate for it to end before it destroys you completely.

A sudden, honeyed warmth washes over Xavier, penetrating deep into his bones and drawing his attention towards your retreating figure. With each step you take towards the grand castle looming in the distance, he feels a thrilling rush of energy coursing through him. His fingers tingle with anticipation as they release the delicate flower they were holding, almost reaching out towards you unconsciously as the heavy doors close behind you with a resounding thud.

Xavier is struck by the sheer beauty of your presence. Akin to the way you felt upon seeing him, it’s as though he's witnessing something truly perfect for the first time. The way the sunlight caresses your silky hair and smooth skin sends shivers down his spine. But it's not just your physical appearance that captivates him - it's your radiant aura that draws him in, beckoning him to pluck a delicate pale pink flower from its resting place before darting towards you with a renewed sense of urgency. His feet carry him faster than ever before, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near you.

As he strides confidently through the grand hall, every eye is drawn to him like moths to a flame. Some curious, some envious, and others full of surprise and confusion at his sudden halt before you. It’s rare to see their prince show any interest in a woman past those he seeks out for carnal pleasures, and even then, he lacks emotion in the encounters that are merely a means to an end.

As you stand there in your humble working-class uniform, you can't help but feel self-conscious under the jealous stares and deprecating glares from those around you. This was exactly why you had tried so desperately to avoid this encounter. The grand hall's luxurious air only emphasizes the stark contrast between your simple attire and the opulence surrounding you. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow on everyone in attendance, highlighting their extravagant clothing and elaborate jewelry. You feel like a small pebble in a sea of diamonds and silk, but despite it all, you hold your head high and meet the prince's piercing gaze with determination.

Xavier's heart races and his mind goes blank as he stands before you. He can barely remember how to think or breathe, completely consumed by your presence. His piercing azure eyes scan every detail of your face, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he basks in the warmth radiating from you. Despite his usual guarded demeanor, he feels himself melting under your gaze, giving in to a vulnerability he never knew he had.

As soon as your eyes meet, his grin widens into the most charming, heart-stopping expression of joy you've ever seen. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as his gaze lingers on you, admiring every inch of your being. Your eyes pass over the critical faces around you before settling back on him. It's then that you blurt out, "my prince..."

It's a vulnerable moment, one that lays bare your feelings for him. And as if reading your mind, he can see the shame and sadness in your voice as you question whether he needs help with something. His heart clenches at the thought of causing you pain, and he realizes that perhaps this introduction should have been saved for a more private moment.

But it's too late now. The curious gazes of those around make it clear that no one will forget what they've witnessed here today. And news of Xavier's newfound interest in you will likely spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom before the sun sets. Despite all of this, he can’t resist the urge to get closer to you. He shakes his head softly, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red. "I saw you, and I just..." He trails off, struggling to find the right words before finally admitting, "The thought of you getting away from me was unbearable."

As he reaches out to tuck the delicate pink flower behind your ear, his fingers brush against your skin with a feather-light touch. You feel a sudden warmth spread through your body at his gentle gesture, and you can't help but be drawn in by the intensity of his gaze. "For you," he murmurs, his voice soft but firm, leaving no room for refusal.

A small smile graces your lips in response, and he feels a surge of satisfaction at having brought even the slightest joy to your face. His fingers linger against your cheek as he pulls away, unable to resist the urge to touch you just a little longer. "This flower, much like the one who now holds it, is unique and precious beyond measure," he continues, ignoring the curious stares and whispers of those around you. Stepping closer, his next words are meant only for your ears, a secret shared under the watchful eyes of the court. "And just like this flower, you are meant to be mine."

The possessiveness and determination in his declaration send a shiver down your spine, the weight of his words and their significance settling deep within your core. Your heart races as you struggle to find the right words in response. "Your Highness..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper as you try to compose yourself. "I'm honored by your words and this beautiful gift," you finally manage to stammer out, your gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet his steady stare. In this moment, all that matters is him and the invisible thread that seems to pull you together. The intensity in his expression ignites a fire within you, a yearning for something that seems unattainable yet irresistible. But as much as you crave him and this forbidden connection between you two, the judgmental glares and expectations of the court weigh heavily on your mind. "We both know that's not possible," you murmur, attempting to make your way past him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, your sister is expecting me..." His grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly, stopping you in your tracks.

The heat of his touch sends a surge of electricity through your body, paralyzing you despite the warning bells ringing in your mind. "Wait," he whispers desperately, his ocean blue eyes searching yours with pleading intensity. His thumb traces circles on the soft underside of your wrist, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason and logic.

"Don't deny what's between us. It's as real as the ground we stand on and as tangible as the air we breathe. I know you can feel it too," he asserts, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in closer to you.

Every fiber of your being is drawn towards him, yearning for his touch and his words to be true. But a part of you still knows better, knows the danger and consequences that come with giving into this forbidden connection. With trembling breaths, you meet his gaze once more, your resolve weakening under the weight of his unwavering passion. Fighting against the surge of emotions within you, you force out a lie through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about, Your Highness… Please..."

Your denial hangs heavily in the charged air between you, but your rapid pulse beneath Xavier's fingers betrays your true desires. A knowing smirk plays on his lips as he releases your wrist, though not completely letting go. "Very well," he concedes with a hint of amusement lacing his velvety voice. Stepping back, he gives you the space you claim to need, but his piercing gaze never leaves yours. "If that's what you choose to believe, then I'll respect it... for now."

His words send a shiver down your spine and leave an ache in your chest as he loosens his hold on you. With a graceful bow that leaves you breathless, he steps aside to let you pass. "But this isn't goodbye," he adds with a sly smile, his voice carrying a taunting promise that stirs something deep within you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your back as you walk away, a physical presence that consumes your thoughts and sets your heart racing. Clutching the delicate pink flower he gave you, you hold it close to your chest as you navigate through the crowded room. Despite trying to push Xavier and his words out of your mind, they continue to haunt you relentlessly like a seductive spell. You tuck the flower into your pocket, a secret treasure hidden away from curious eyes as you continue with your tasks.

As the weeks pass, Xavier finds himself irresistibly drawn to the quiet corners of the palace, where the echoes of laughter and whispered secrets fade into a hushed stillness. In these moments of solitude, he allows himself to indulge in thoughts of you, his imagination flourishing with possibilities. He envisions your arms wrapped around him, your lips pressed tenderly against his as you sway beneath the stars in a dance meant only for the two of you. He dreams of intimate conversations shared beneath the soft glow of moonlight and stolen kisses exchanged in the shadowy embrace of dawn. Each day brings new challenges and duties that demand his attention, but also new opportunities to catch glimpses of you, to exchange guarded smiles that set his heart ablaze. As he navigates through the labyrinth of politics and intrigue, his mind constantly wanders to you, your face etched upon the canvas of his thoughts.

And while you go about your own tasks and duties, your mind often drifts to fantasies of you and Xavier lost in passionate embraces, your hearts beating as one. These forbidden desires both tantalize and terrify you. You try to focus on your responsibilities, immersing yourself in mundane tasks that occupy your days. Yet every corner of the palace seems to hold memories of your brief encounter with Xavier, each whisper of wind carrying an echo of his voice. During quiet moments alone, you often take out the flower he gave you – its delicate petals now slightly wilted – as a constant reminder of your connection.

The halls buzz with whispers and speculation, their echoes reaching even Xavier's ears. Your name, once just a faint murmur on the wind, now seems to reverberate through every corridor and chamber, igniting curiosity among the court at your sudden rise to his affections. Before long, Xavier finds himself seeking out those same quiet corners where he knows he will find you. When your encounters do occur, though brief, they are filled with a charged energy that crackles in the air like lightning before a storm.

As your shift comes to an end, you take a leisurely stroll through the garden under the shimmering light of the full moon. The silver glow casts a mystical aura over the delicate blooms surrounding you, their petals swaying gently in the cool night breeze. You feel Xavier's presence before you see him, a tingling sensation at the base of your neck that sends shivers down your spine. His movements are fluid and graceful, emerging from the shadows like a ghost gliding through the moonlit foliage. His voice, barely audible above the rustling leaves, whispers your name. Every step he takes towards you is slow and cautious, as if he were a predator stalking its prey in the forest of desire. His intense gaze locks onto yours, mirroring the storm raging within him. As his hand reaches out to caress your cheek, his touch is tender yet possessive, revealing the hunger that consumes him. "I can't stay away from you," he confesses in a low, raw tone, "Nor do I want to. Every moment apart feels like an eternity, a cruel punishment inflicted upon my restless soul."

Your heart races at his words, your body responding to him like a finely tuned instrument played by a master musician. With each gentle stroke of his fingers, he ignites a fire within you that threatens to consume you completely. Overcome with happiness, you utter his title like a sweet melody on your lips: "My prince." Your fingers twitch with an uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch him, to ease this growing need within you. But even as you speak softly and timidly, asking why he is doing this, your response is like music to Xavier's ears, filling him with warmth and joy that radiates through his entire being.

His long, slender fingers trace the delicate curve of your jawline, igniting a burning trail of desire in their wake. His intense gaze holds yours captive as he speaks, his voice unwavering and filled with devotion. "From the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were destined to be mine," he declares, his words laced with a conviction that sends shivers down your spine. "You have become my everything - my sun, my moon, my stars - the very air I breathe."

His other hand cups your face with gentle tenderness as he speaks, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in a soothing caress. He leans in closer until his lips are just inches from yours, teasing you with the promise of passion that lingers between you. "I want to spend every moment with you, bringing life to your dreams and creating new ones together. To hold you close through the darkness and when the weight of the world becomes too heavy to bear."

His confession of love and longing strikes deep within your soul, like a familiar melody whispered on the wind and written in the stars. With each gentle touch, warmth spreads throughout your body, igniting a fierce flame that burns with an intensity you've never felt before. As Xavier's hands cup your face, you lean into his touch and close your eyes, savoring the comforting sensation. Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest as his lips draw even closer to yours, the anticipation almost unbearable. You don't push away or pull him closer; instead, your hands rest lightly on his chest as if trying to resist him. But as your gaze slowly rises to meet his, he can sense your surrender. As he lowers his mouth to yours in a tender kiss, the outside world fades away, and it's just the two of you lost in a sea of desire.

The kiss is a slow burn, filled with longing that matches the depth of your feelings. His tongue teases gently at the seam of your lips before seeking entrance, his hand cradling the back of your head to draw you impossibly closer. He pours every ounce of love, desire, and devotion into the kiss, hoping to convey the depth of his feelings and erase any doubts that may linger in your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer as the kiss grows more passionate with each passing moment. Eventually, you both break away, breathless and trembling. Foreheads still pressed together, hearts beating in sync, your eyes meet and see the same love and longing reflected in each other's gaze. For a brief moment, nothing else exists except for the two of you caught up in a whirlwind of emotions. But reality intrudes upon this stolen moment, reminding you of the relentless march of duty and responsibility. Reluctantly, your arms release Xavier from their hold as you murmur softly, "I should go."

Xavier's heart plummets like a boulder as he feels the weight of your rejection. It hits him with such force, stealing his breath and leaving him speechless. His eyes widen in shock and disbelief, but he understands your hesitation and the gravity of the situation. Still, a wave of deep sadness and frustration washes over him, threatening to drown him in despair. He nods slowly, unable to find words as his throat tightens with emotion. Gently, he removes his trembling hands from your neck and steps back, putting distance between you. His mind is swirling with thoughts and emotions that he dares not speak out loud, fearing that they may lead to regret or expose the depths of his heartache.

You turn away without a word, heading back towards the sprawling castle that has been your home for so long. Each step takes you further from the love that has consumed your thoughts and left a void in your heart.

As you disappear through the grand palace doors, a sharp pang of loneliness pierces Xavier's chest. Suddenly, his extravagant surroundings feel hollow and meaningless compared to the ache in his heart. He retreats to his private chambers, feeling utterly alone despite being surrounded by lavish furnishings. As he paces restlessly across the marble floor, he wrestles with the harsh reality of your situation - duty, family, crown - all weighing heavily on his shoulders and making it difficult for him to justify pursuing a relationship with someone of a lower status.

But even as logic tries to dictate his actions, his heart rebels and refuses to accept a future without you in it. Taking a sip of rich burgundy wine, Xavier tries to drown out the bleakness that clouds his mood before setting aside the goblet and collapsing onto his bed with a frustrated sigh. Memories of your laughter fill his mind as he yearns for you with an intensity bordering on madness. His imagination ignites the flames of desire between you as he seeks solace in one of the most private acts imaginable. Guilt lingers at the edge of his conscience, but he pushes it away and allows himself to succumb to waves of pleasure that crash over him. He whispers your name with longing as he reaches climax, feeling his heart race in time with the pumping of his wrist. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he falls into a restless sleep, haunted by memories of stolen moments and clinging to hope for a future that may never come to fruition.

As you drift off to sleep yourself, Xavier's presence wraps around you like a warm and protective blanket, shielding you from the darkness of the night. And even when you wake, that comforting warmth lingers as you go to Princess Meira's chambers.

As you tentatively step through the grand doors of the breakfast hall, a wave of fear crashes over you, threatening to send you fleeing in the opposite direction. This is a rare occasion for the King and Queen to join their children, Meira and her brother Xavier, for breakfast. You find yourself wishing that Meira had given you some warning beforehand, but then again, why should she? She has no way of knowing the depths of your heart's yearning for Xavier. With a deep breath, you give a gentle smile to the room, attempting to ignore the intense gazes of both the prince and his parents. Instead, you divert your attention to Meira with a cheerful expression and a graceful curtsy. "My Lady," your voice chirps softly, trying to convey a sense of ease despite the fluttering nerves within you. For a brief moment, your eyes meet Xavier's and you are momentarily lost in their depths before quickly looking away, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

As Xavier watches you move around the room, his heart rate increases and his pulse pounds in his ears. Seeing you among his family members, especially after your late-night encounter just hours ago, sends shivers down his spine. He exchanges a polite nod with his parents, their keen gazes flickering between the two of you as they pick up on the subtle signs of your shared secret.

Meira senses the tension and jumps in with a bright smile. "Good morning! I requested cherries for breakfast today!" Her delicate ivory fingers gesture towards a bowl piled high with fresh cherries, causing warmth and gratitude to wash over you at her display of kindness. Since starting as her lady's maid, Meira has insisted on treating you as an equal, trying to learn your favorite things and surprise you with them. Despite your short time together, it feels as though you have known each other for years, often losing yourselves in hours of conversation and fostering a blossoming friendship.

With a sly smirk and a glint of mischief in her eyes, she teases, "Funny... Cherries are Xavi's favorite too! So I made sure to get extra." Her gaze lingers on Xavier, who meets it with narrowed eyes and a simmering warning. But she remains cool and unfazed, her amusement evident in the way she brushes off his glare. "I'm sure you guys won't mind sharing though, right?" She passes the bowl to him, her infectious grin grating on his nerves.

Meira is known for her sharp wit and ability to gather information about everyone around her. She knows the latest gossip that threads through the court like poison, including the rumors about you and her brother. At first, she didn't believe them, but her hesitation was not due only to your differences in standing. As she observed Xavier closely over the years, she realized he had always believed that love was not meant for him, a fact that Meira could see clearly in his eyes when he stood outside the throne room after a conversation with their father about marriage arrangements.

She remembers his soft voice promising her, "At least one of us will marry for love. I'll make sure of it." At that moment, she vowed to do everything possible to make that dream come true for him, too. She firmly believes someone as wonderful as her brother deserves to be loved and cherished, not forced into a joyless partnership.

For Meira, love is something written in the stars and soulmates truly exist. And she will not rest until she can convince their parents to understand this as well. Raising awareness about your situation is just the beginning for her.

As Xavier takes the bowl from her hands, he can't help but appreciate her unspoken support and understanding, the weight of her touch heavy with unsaid emotions. The cherry in his fingertips is plump and dark, its deep red skin glistening under the soft lights of the palace. He examines it thoughtfully before popping it into his mouth, the burst of sweetness overwhelming his senses. His thoughts drift back to the previous evening, the memory of your lips and the taste of your skin still fresh in his mind. He offers you the next cherry with measured grace, the simple exchange infused with a deeper meaning. Your eyes meet as your fingers brush against his, accepting the fruit, and the air between you crackles with an undeniable energy.

Xavier notices his parents' prolonged interest in you, their gaze a mix of curiosity and speculation. Meira's well-intentioned efforts succeed in heightening their awareness of your relationship, though Xavier dares not speculate on their true intentions. When the royal family retires to the gardens for a stroll, he discreetly ensures that you walk close together. The fresh air is fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle trickle of a nearby fountain adds to the serene beauty of the flora surrounding you. It's a welcome respite from the confined atmosphere of the palace, allowing you both a fleeting glimpse of normalcy amidst all the expectations and regulations.

"You handled that earlier scene with such poise," Xavier comments softly, his voice filled with appreciation and admiration. "Though I can't help but think we may have given my parents cause for concern." He casts a discreet glance toward the monarchs, who seem engaged in their own discussions, but he can't shake off the feeling that they're listening closely to every word exchanged between you. "I must confess...it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to maintain proper distance when I'm in your presence," he admits honestly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding or reciprocation.

Despite the overwhelming impossibility of acting on your feelings, you can’t resist meeting his gaze with a longing of your own. The intensity of your mutual desire hangs in the air between you, palpable and unspoken. In an attempt to banish the weight of your forbidden emotions, you playfully tease Xavier as you continue your stroll together through the gardens. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble, Your Highness.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Xavier's lips, grateful for the lightness and joy you bring to what is otherwise a troubled mind. "It's not trouble," he murmurs softly, locking eyes with you. "It's a complication...but one I'm willing to navigate for the reward." His words linger, heavy with emotion and unspoken promises. As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the garden, the conversation shifts to less intense topics. As you rejoin the group, Xavier feels the weight of his duties settling back onto his shoulders. With one last lingering gaze at you, he returns to his responsibilities, cherishing your radiant smile in his mind.

As the day wears on and your duties and tasks for Meira consume your attention, thoughts of Xavier constantly consume you. And as night falls and preparations are made for bed, you both find yourselves retreating to your individual quarters - yearning for each other's presence in the quiet moments before sleep. The silence in your rooms serves as both a comfort and a cruel reminder of your separation; every tick of the clock echoing the distance between you.

Lying in bed with tangled covers, your hearts ache with longing and fear for what lies ahead. Unable to find rest, memories of your time together play on a continuous loop in your minds as you wait for the first light of dawn. Desperate for solace, you rise early, slipping into a simple robe and grabbing a book from your personal library before making your way to a secluded spot in the castle gardens.

The morning air is cool and carries the sweet fragrance of dew and blooming flowers. As you walk, trying to lose yourself in the words on the page, you eventually come across a tranquil spot under a tree with heavy white blossoms cascading down its branches. Settling onto the soft grass, you allow the peacefulness of your surroundings to calm the turmoil in your heart.

As the sun slowly rises and casts its warm, golden light through his own bedroom window, Xavier feels an inexplicable pull towards the gardens. With careful steps, he makes his way towards the secluded spot, almost as if he can sense your presence awaiting him. When he finally reaches the spot beneath the blossoming tree where you sit peacefully, he is overcome with a sense of belonging unlike anything he's ever felt before. Without saying a word, he takes a seat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he instinctively reaches for your hand. "Do you come here to escape?" he asks in a soft whisper, barely able to contain his emotions.

You look up at him in surprise, but any initial shock quickly fades away as you feel your heart swell with happiness at his presence. The touch of your hands together sends sparks flying between you, and you can't help but lean into it, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his touch. "Yes," you answer quietly, your gaze shifting down to where your hands are now tightly interlocked. "Do you have somewhere safe to escape to, Xavier?"

Your question brings a soft smile to his lips as he looks down at your entwined hands, feeling a sense of purpose and determination wash over him as he gazes upon the image of your connection. In a hushed voice, he confesses, "For so long, my refuge was in books and knowledge. I sought solace in the stories of others and the wisdom of ages past. But now..." He trails off, struggling to find the right words to express himself, yet knowing that sharing these thoughts with you is important. He takes a deep breath and continues, "Now, my sanctuary is with you. Every moment we steal away, every secret touch, every shared laugh or whispered confession - these are the things that give my life meaning and make all of the struggles worthwhile."

He raises your intertwined hands, his soft lips brushing against your knuckles before returning them to his lap. Leaning into you, his head rests against your shoulder as you sit in peaceful silence, taking in the tranquil surroundings of the gardens. You find a moment of true peace together in this secluded corner of nature, surrounded by its beauty and serenity.

It's a fleeting moment, fragile like a butterfly's wings, but it allows you to let your guard down just a little. Your hand instinctively travels up Xavier's neck, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingers. Without hesitation, you lean in to press your lips against his in a tender kiss. He responds immediately, melting into your embrace and pulling you closer.

His arms wrap around you protectively as your fingers continue to play with his silky locks. In each other's arms, lost in the depths of your love for one another, time seems to stand still.

Breaking the kiss, his eyes lock onto yours, his intense gaze reflecting the same fierce longing and adoration that fills your own heart. With a gentle touch, he traces the soft curve of your cheek, marveling at the beauty that radiates from within and without. Time seems to hold its breath at this moment, captured in the blissful seconds between heartbeats. Your lips hunger for more, your body yearning for his touch. But all too soon, the sound of approaching footsteps shatters the tranquility, pulling you back to reality.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one has witnessed your intimate moment, you quickly straighten and offer Xavier a hand up. "We should return to the castle," you murmur regretfully, torn between the desire to stay in his arms forever and the weight of your responsibilities awaiting you. Reluctantly, he allows you to guide him to his feet. As you walk back towards the castle together, your hands remain intertwined for a fleeting moment before separating due to the demands of propriety.

Your heart is heavy with conflicting emotions - guilt for indulging in this forbidden love, fear of being discovered and facing the consequences, and longing for more stolen moments like this with Xavier. Even inside the safety of the castle walls, the taste of his kiss lingers on your lips, a tantalizing reminder of what will never be fully yours. Needing space to process these emotions, you slip away unnoticed.

As the days slip by and your paths continue to intertwine within the castle's imposing walls, each encounter with Xavier is a delicate dance between longing and caution. The air crackles with tension as he watches you from a distance, his gaze tracing every graceful step and subtle gesture as you navigate the corridors of the palace. Your demeanor speaks volumes, guarded yet wistful, and it draws him in like a moth to a flame. He can't help but notice the way your hand trembles ever so slightly as you arrange a vase of flowers or the way your smile holds a tinge of melancholy. Each detail only fuels his fascination with you, stirring emotions he never knew existed. But beneath the exhilaration of these stolen moments lies an undercurrent of urgency, a sense that time is slipping away too quickly.

In the grand library, as you peruse through stacks of books, you can sense Xavier's presence before he even approaches. His warmth envelops you from behind, sending a flush to your cheeks and making it difficult to focus on anything else. You stammer out a greeting, trying to compose yourself in his proximity. But his nearness lingers, filling the room with unspoken desires and yearning. Your heart races as you struggle to maintain some semblance of composure.

"Can I help you find something, Your Highness?" Your words are formal and polite, but your eyes betray the depth of emotion bubbling just below the surface.

Xavier's breath catches in his throat at the sound of your voice, his entire being consumed by the intoxicating essence of your presence. He can't resist leaning in closer, his lips brushing against the delicate shell of your ear as he murmurs, "Actually, I came searching for something far more elusive." A heavy pause hangs between you, filled with palpable anticipation, before he continues in a low, deliberate tone. "Your understanding, perhaps?... Or maybe just a glimpse of that radiant smile that haunts my dreams?" He pulls back slightly, locking his gaze with yours, the electric connection between you igniting like a live wire.

In the dimly-lit library, your eyes are pools of liquid moonlight, reflecting the depth of your longing and the risks you're both willing to take for each other. "Even the simplest moments with you feel like an eternity," he confesses reverently, his sincerity and adoration shining through his words. "And yet, I find myself yearning for more - to lose myself in your eyes, to hear your laughter echoing through the night." His voice trails off, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he bares his heart to you.

You can feel his honesty wrap around you like a warm blanket, igniting a fire within your soul. Once again, you are acutely aware of the risks you take by being together, but you find yourself powerless against the strength of your feelings for him. His lips graze against your neck in a tender caress, sending shivers down your spine and leaving you momentarily speechless.

Your trembling hands grasp onto the edge of the bookshelf, seeking any support available as you give in to the overwhelming longing. Fatigue weighs heavily on your body, tired from the constant struggle to resist the alluring effect he has on you. Every fiber of your being aches for him, for what you know you want and need. With a soft voice, you murmur his name, feeling the resistance that once held you so firmly begin to dissipate. A small smile tugs at your lips before they meet his in a long-awaited kiss.

Xavier feels a wave of euphoria wash over him at your touch, filling him with an indescribable sense of triumph and love. Your lips part, allowing him to taste the sweetness of your yielding mouth. The exchange of breath and warmth between you leaves both of you breathless, lost in the moment's intensity. With a groan that's part relief and part desire, he presses you against the bookshelf, your bodies aligning as if drawn by some invisible force.

The weight of your breasts against his chest sends a jolt of pure lust coursing through his veins. His arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens and intensifies.

The heat between your bodies is palpable, a fiery intensity threatening to consume you both. You can feel yourself completely opening up to him, surrendering to the desires that have been building inside you for weeks. In this moment, all your defenses are laid bare as you grip him tightly, unable to hold back any longer.

"Kissing you has been consuming my thoughts for days," you breathe against his lips, your voice almost desperate with longing. Your thumb traces his bottom lip with a featherlight touch, savoring the softness and perfection of his mouth. "These lips, my prince...do you have any idea how perfect they are?" You kiss him again, losing yourself in the pleasure of his plush pink lips against yours. Your words ignite a fire within Xavier's soul, soothing the wounds left by the cruel hands of fate. He smiles against your lips, his heart pounding in his chest as he reciprocates your fervor with an intensity born from weeks of repression and desire.

Your unrestrained touch sends waves of pleasure crashing through him, and he moans softly, his fingers clutching at your hair as he kisses you harder. As you break apart for a moment, gasping for air, your eyes meet in a mirrored reflection of the intense passion that burns between you. You whisper against his skin with a soft smile, "This is dangerous, Xavier." Your words only serve to fuel the desire between you as you nuzzle into his neck, your fingers slipping under his shirt to trace delicate patterns along his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex beneath your touch.

Xavier's entire body trembles, your touch igniting a fiery desire within him, threatening to consume him whole. Your voice, husky and charged with danger, only adds to the already intense arousal that courses through his veins. With one hand, he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, taking in the sight of you with hunger and longing in his eyes. He sees a hint of uncertainty and resistance lingering in your gaze, but it's overshadowed by a deep love and longing that seems to eclipse any doubts. Empowered by your admission of risk, Xavier captures your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue teases at the seam of your mouth, seeking entrance, while his hands roam freely over every curve and contour of your body with a reverence bordering on worship. As his fingers trace the hem of your dress, just barely slipping underneath the soft fabric, he meets your eyes and silently seeks permission. Your heart pounds in your chest, hesitating in the face of such intense desire. But you make no move to stop him, leaning into his touch as if unable to resist its temptation.

With a soft sigh of relief, Xavier allows his fingers to slip under the hem and explore further - tentative and searching, tracing the contours of your midriff with light touches. He continues a slow journey upward, following the curves and dips of your ribcage with careful attention. In this dimly lit library, guided by the rhythm of your breaths, he feels acutely aware of the fragility of this moment; knowing that every second spent together is precious and fleeting. Yet despite this realization, he remains resolute in his determination to savor every moment, to etch these memories onto his heart and soul.

The intensity between you is palpable, a tangible force that binds you together for better or worse. Your heart races faster as his fingers trail down your body, leaving sparks of electricity in their wake.

You see the fire burning in the depths of his eyes, a reflection of your own desires. Knowing that your feelings are mutual, that you are both willing to fight for this love, gives you the courage to surrender completely to him. With a soft nod, you grant him permission to continue exploring your body.

Leaning back against the bookshelf, you sigh softly as his hands begin to undress you. The contrast of cool air against your exposed skin and the warmth of his touch sends shivers down your spine. And with each layer of clothing shed, your trust and vulnerability deepens within Xavier's senses.

Kneeling before you with reverence and awe, he places feather-light kisses along the column of your throat. His fingers work deftly at the clasp of your bra, revealing the smooth expanse of your stomach and the delicate lace beneath.

He cups your breast in his palms, feeling the supple flesh yield to his touch. His thumbs brush over your nipples, watching them harden and pebble under his caress. Your response ignites a surge of desire within him, and he knows that he must have you - claim you in every way possible.

Capturing a rosy peak between his lips, he suckles gently while his hands roam lower - seeking the heat between your thighs.

As his lips envelop your pert nipple, you let out a soft moan that echoes through the quiet library. Your head falls back against the sturdy bookshelf, surrendering to the delicious waves of sensation that wash over you. With each flick of his tongue and gentle suck, your body responds with eager shivers and arches. The anticipation builds as his fingers trail down, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending tingles racing up your spine. You can't help but bite your lip to stifle a cry as he discovers the damp evidence of your arousal, his gentle caress over the lace fabric of your panties setting off fireworks of pleasure throughout your body.

Your moans, the scent of your arousal, and your willing submission only fuel the fire raging within Xavier. As he slowly works to remove the final barrier between you, his fingertips dance along the delicate fabric, igniting a hunger in him that burns like no other. The sight of your reaction to him, the feel of your body trembling under his touch, is an intoxicating aphrodisiac.

With careful precision, he finally removes the lacy fabric, revealing the treasure he's longed to claim for so many days. He takes his time kissing a path down your abdomen, his hot breath teasing your skin as he approaches your glistening core. As he finally presses his lips to your most intimate area, he feels a surge of satisfaction and pure desire.

Your moans become more urgent and desperate as he explores the depths of your pleasure with his skilled tongue. The sensation of his mouth on your heated skin sends electric shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your entire being, making you gasp and cling to the edges of the bookshelf for support as you surrender completely to his touch.

As his slender finger slips inside you, your body responds instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your slick, gummy walls clamp tightly around him, reveling in the fullness he provides. You can't help but wonder how much more you could take if he were to give it to you.

Your pleas for more are barely above a whisper, but they are music to Xavier's ears, a seductive melody he can't resist. He continues to attend to your needy cunt, feeling your inner muscles clench around the second finger he works in. The velvety heat draws him in deeper with each thrust. As the tension builds within you, he can sense you nearing climax. With a growl of satisfaction, he brings his mouth back to your swollen clit, sucking gently as he increases the tempo of his fingers.

His determination sends you tumbling over the edge into oblivion. Your body convulses, and your pussy flutters wildly as you crest the peak of your climax. Xavier drinks in every moan and sob of pleasure, his own arousal reaching a crescendo as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your juices trickle down his chin, the sight of his enjoyment only adding to your ecstasy.

When the storm finally subsides, you collapse against the bookshelf, breathing heavily. As Xavier wipes away the evidence of your pleasure, his heart swells with affection and pride. In this moment, he craves you so badly - the feel of your body wrapped around his, the warmth of your embrace as he thrusts into you and fills you with his seed. And when the time is right, when you're ready, he will take you as his own.

The spark ignited by your lips lingers between you both, and Xavier eagerly responds to your craving for more sweetness. When you finally break apart, he is left breathless and wanting.

With a gentle tug, he leads you deeper into the library, its walls lined with ancient tomes and forgotten knowledge. The scent of old paper and leather fills your senses as you settle onto a plush velvet couch, his arm draped around your shoulders. Your breath catches as he leans in for a kiss, his lips meeting yours in a fiery embrace. Lost in each other's touch, time seems to slip away unnoticed as you lose yourselves in this private sanctuary, hidden behind towering shelves of books.

His hand traces patterns on your skin as your bodies twist and turn on the couch, two halves of a whole coming together in perfect harmony. The soft light filtering through stained glass windows casts a warm glow on your entwined forms, wrapping you in a cocoon of intimacy.

Your fingers thread through his silver hair, pulling him closer as your legs wrap around his waist. Every kiss, every touch ignites a spark within you, filling you with a sense of belonging and completeness that you've never felt before.

As you revel in the euphoria of each other's presence, quiet voices drift towards you from afar. Barely able to catch your breath, you break away from the kiss to meet his eyes, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Shh," you whisper playfully, pressing a finger to his lips. "We wouldn't want to get caught like this, Your Highness."

Xavier smirks against your lips, the glint in his eyes hinting at the scandalous thoughts running through his mind. A sly grin spreads across his face as he leans in, his voice a husky whisper. "Then again, perhaps I wouldn't mind being caught. The scandalous headlines and the outrage it would cause among the courtiers... I find myself rather addicted to causing chaos wherever you are."

Without warning, he captures your lips in another passionate kiss, the intensity of his longing and desire palpable on his tongue. Your mouths dance and meld together, exploring each other's depths as you lose yourself in the embrace. As his hands roam down to cup your breasts, the skin-on-skin contact sends shivers down your spine. You can feel his thumbs gently graze your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He nibbles at your bottom lip before trailing kisses along your jawline and down the sensitive curve of your throat. Your hands grip onto his hair, urging him on as he continues to explore your body with his skilled hands.

With deliberate slowness, he slides a finger inside you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of fullness. The sensation is almost too much to bear, causing your entire body to convulse around him. Seeing the ecstasy etched onto your face only adds fuel to Xavier's fire, and he claims your lips once more with a triumphant smile.

Your bodies remain entwined on the couch as he begins to explore deeper, setting a steady rhythm that mirrors the beating of your hearts. As your moans grow louder, he presses his free hand against your mouth to muffle the sounds. The risk of being discovered only intensifies Xavier's desire, and the way he dominates you with his hand sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

The pressure builds within you like a crescendo, threatening to consume you completely. With each thrust of his finger, you feel yourself inching closer to the edge. And when he slips a second finger inside you, your body explodes in an intense orgasm that washes over you like a tidal wave. You cling onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cry out softly, your voice muffled by his hand.

A fierce desire to give Xavier the same pleasure he has given you consumes your entire being. As you straddle him, your lips meeting in a fiery kiss, he eagerly accepts the surge of passion and unbridled intensity emanating from you. Your weight pressing down on him, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and your fingers tangled in his hair create a powerful image of dominance and submission that sends shivers down his spine. He groans into the kiss, reveling in the taste of you and the way your tongue dances with his.

Your lips trail along his neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake before you pull back and meet his gaze, silently asking for permission as you hover your fingers over his skin. Without hesitation, he nods in approval, whispering softly against your cheek as his lips brush yours in a feather-light kiss, "Yes. Leave your mark on me. I wear it like a badge of honor."

Eagerly, you continue to trace delicate hickeys along his neck and collarbone, relishing the promise of ownership they bring. But when you pause to admire a subtle purple bloom near his collarbone, he reaches up to gently cover your hand with his, urging you to claim him fully. "In fact," he murmurs huskily, "I want more. Claim every inch of me. Make me yours, inside and out."

With a soft moan, you press your lips to the tender spot once more before sinking your teeth into it with just enough force to leave a lasting mark.

As your lips dance along his skin, your hands eagerly roam over the dips and curves of his chest, tentatively tracing the lines of muscle and bone. With an eagerness that borders on greed, you quickly unbutton the rest of his shirt and push it aside, your gaze immediately drawn to his nipple. A small gasp escapes your lips as you run a thumb over the light-pink bud, feeling it grow firm under your touch. Meeting Xavier's intense gaze for a fleeting moment, you lean down and take the hardened peak into your mouth, sucking and nibbling with gentle ferocity.

The unfamiliar sensation sends electric currents of pleasure coursing through him, his breath hitching in his throat as he surrenders to the sensation. His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you close as he gives himself over to the exquisite pleasure you're giving him. Underneath your skillful touch, he becomes both conqueror and conquered, a paradoxical mix of desire and submission that feels completely natural yet also disorienting. He knows without a doubt that he would never relinquish this type of control to anyone else, yet with you it comes effortlessly, like taking in his next breath.

As you continue to lavish attention upon his nipples, you can't help but smile at the sight of him writhing and moaning in pleasure, lost in the depths of arousal. Leaning back slightly, you take in the beautiful sight before you - Xavier lying there with his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath, his skin flushed with desire. Your eyes trail down the soft trail of hair leading to his abs and you feel a primal urge to follow it with your tongue. Lowering your lips to his stomach, your fingers continue to tease and play with his nipples while your mouth leaves a trail of kisses and licks in its wake.

No one has ever worshipped his body like this before, and Xavier is overcome with a mix of awe and desire as you free his throbbing cock from its confinement. Any worries about being caught are pushed away by the sheer pleasure of feeling your mouth on him, your tongue tracing wet paths along his shaft. He gasps, his hips involuntarily bucking up towards you as you eagerly lap up the salty-sweet droplets of precum that have gathered at the tip of his arousal. In this moment, he feels completely and utterly desired and loved, as if he were a divine being worthy of being worshipped by a devoted follower.

Despite the potential consequences, he finds himself unable to resist the urge, his hands tangling in your hair as he guides your mouth to his throbbing cock. As his fingers guide you, you let out a small moan, feeling your anticipation build as you take in the sight of his aroused state. The head of his member is swollen and flushed, veins pulsing against his pale skin. Your mouth waters at the thought of tasting him, and you trace the prominent veins lightly with your tongue before taking him fully into your mouth.

You start slow, savoring the taste and texture as you gradually increase the pace and depth of your movements. With one hand caressing and stroking the length that doesn't fit in your mouth, you use the other to cover his mouth and muffle his own cries of pleasure. A wave of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that you're the one responsible for bringing Xavier to such a state of ecstasy.

Pausing for a brief moment, you meet his eyes as you bob your head back down, taking him deeper this time. He pushes against the back of your throat, but instead of pulling away, you swallow around him, allowing yourself to relax and fully enjoy the taste and sensation of him in your mouth. Your tongue swirls and licks along his length, eliciting desperate, muffled moans from him.

As you descend again, taking him to the hilt, Xavier feels his climax approaching rapidly. His muscles tense and strain as he eagerly surrenders to the exquisite sensation only you can provide. A low growl escapes his throat as he threads his fingers through your hair, guiding you, urging you on. Your skilled mouth and talented tongue have reduced him to a quivering mess, completely at your mercy. He can't help but marvel at how effortlessly you bring him to the brink of bliss. With each flick of your tongue and suction of your lips, he inches closer and closer to his release. As he focuses on your eyes, filled with adoration and desire for him, he feels himself losing control. With a guttural groan, he gives himself over completely to the waves of pleasure crashing through his body.

Sensing that he's on the verge of coming undone, you redouble your efforts, sucking harder and faster while never breaking eye contact. You want to see the exact moment when he loses all control, when he surrenders himself wholly to the pleasure you're providing. And then it happens. His eyes go wide, his fingers clenching tightly in your hair, and a deep groan rumbles from deep within his chest. His body jerks uncontrollably as the first spurt of semen hits the back of your throat. You instinctively swallow and continue to milk his cock with your mouth as the rest of his climax follows in powerful waves, filling you with his warmth.

Eventually, his movements slow and his grip on your hair loosens. You release his now-sensitive cock with a satisfied smirk, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you crawl up to straddle his body. Your skin is flushed and glistening with sweat, but your eyes shine with satisfaction and desire. "You taste amazing," you murmur, running your fingers along his jawline before leaning in for another kiss.

Xavier gazes up at you, his eyes sparkling with adoration and gratitude. He gently caresses your cheek, marveling at the perfection that stands before him. "In every way imaginable, you are a flawless creation," he breathes, his voice raw with emotion. As he speaks, his hands wander to your hips, pulling you flush against him once more. With one hand still on your cheek, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin.

But as much as you both want to stay in this moment forever, reality soon sets back in. Xavier reluctantly begins to disengage from your embrace, helping you both stand and pick up the scattered clothes around you. "We should probably get dressed before someone discovers us," he murmurs, though the reluctance is evident in his tone. You can't help but pout slightly, not ready to leave this intimate moment just yet.

"I know," you say softly, your voice barely audible above the sound of your ragged breaths.

Xavier tightens his hold around you, holding you as close as possible as he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in deeply. He softly reminds you that every moment apart is simply a countdown until you can be together again.

"Every moment apart is torture," you admit quietly, your heart aching with love and longing. With one final, lingering touch, you give him a small smile before turning to leave.

Xavier's eyes are fixated on your retreating figure, his heart heavy with longing and regret. Every step you take away from him feels like a stab to his chest, but he knows that he can't call you back. His duty as a prince and the weight of your illicit love keep him rooted in place, his hand pressed against the cool wood of a bookshelf as he struggles to maintain his composure. When you finally disappear from sight, he is left alone with his thoughts, the memories of your forbidden moments burning vividly in his mind. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his attire, steeling himself for the long day ahead as he tries to push away thoughts of you and focus on his duties.

But even as Xavier attends to his royal obligations throughout the day, his mind constantly drifts back to you. He steals glances whenever possible, hungry for any sign of your hidden love. Each stolen touch and lingering gaze heightens the anticipation between you both, building up an insatiable desire for the next time your bodies will come together, your hearts beating as one.

As the day wears on, Xavier finds it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else. Even during important meetings and events, his thoughts are consumed by visions of your secret encounters. And when the moon begins its ascent into the sky, he eagerly counts down the minutes until he can escape from the constraints of his public life and join you in your designated sanctuary.

Finally, the moment arrives, he makes his way to meet you in the dimly lit room. As soon as he enters, he sees you waiting for him with that same hunger burning in your eyes. Without a word, you fall into each other's arms, your lips meeting in a passionate, all-consuming kiss.

Your hands explore each other's bodies, tracing every curve and contour with a careful touch as if committing them to memory. Your heartbeats sync, pounding in unison as passion courses through your veins.

Stripped of all clothing, you lay bare before one another, your limbs entangled on a makeshift bed. Xavier's fingers map every inch of your body, marveling at the smoothness of your skin and the curves of your figure. He traces a line from your waist to your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts and across the plane of your stomach. Each touch ignites a spark that travels along his nerve endings. In this moment, you are his masterpiece, a work of art created solely for his pleasure. And he is determined to take in every detail, every reaction. His touch reaches the apex of your thighs, cupping your sex with gentleness and awe at the heat radiating from within you.

With deliberate slowness, he teases you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body with each gentle graze of his fingertips. Your breath quickens, and your body arches in response to his expert touch. You become lost in a symphony of sensation, craving more as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. But just when you think you can't take it anymore, he retreats, denying you the release you so desperately want.

You whimper, your hands clutching at the sheets as you try to maintain control, but it’s a losing battle. “Please,” you beg softly, your voice barely audible above the sound of your labored breaths. “Xavier, please…” His touch changes, becoming firmer, more demanding.

He slides a long finger inside you, his hand moving with such precision and skill that you can't help but arch your back in pleasure. Your body convulses around his intrusion, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. The pleasure is almost painful in its intensity, but you crave it all the same. As he continues to stroke you, you can feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to crash over you at any moment. But just as the pleasure reaches its peak, he pulls back, his movements slowing as he brings you back from the edge.

Your plea echoes through the room, inflaming Xavier’s desire to devour you whole. He's addicted to your response to his touch, the way your body trembles and convulses under his ministrations. He removes his finger, watching as you pant and squirm, desperately seeking the relief he’s denied you. A smile spreads across his lips, both proud and wicked. He revels in this game of control, relishing the power he holds over your pleasure.

However, he can no longer resist the temptation of your body. His lips trail a path of fire up your inner thigh, leaving a blazing trail in their wake. Every inch of skin that his hot breath touches turns to liquid desire. "You taste so sweet," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe as he parts your lips and presses his tongue against your clit. He eagerly explores every inch of your delectable cunt, savoring the intoxicating flavor that only you possess. With each flick of his skilled tongue, he brings you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. You writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as you struggle to keep yourself grounded in reality. But his mouth is relentless, never giving you a moment's respite from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

As your orgasm builds within you, Xavier adds another layer to his attack, pressing two fingers inside you while continuing to lavish attention on your throbbing clit. The combination of sensations is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. Just when you think you can't take any more, he adds yet another level of intensity, pushing you over the edge into complete and utter bliss. Your body convulses violently as waves of pleasure wash over you, your cries of ecstasy muffled by the skin of his neck as you bury your face against him.

In that moment, Xavier is consumed by the intoxicating taste of your release. He drinks in every drop like a man dying of thirst, savoring the sweetness of your passion as it coats his tongue. Even as your aftershocks ripple through you, he continues to stimulate you with his mouth and fingers, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're completely spent. Only then does he ease back, trailing soft kisses along your inner thigh as he withdraws from you.

Leaning up, he captures your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, pouring all of his own desires into the press of your lips. As he breaks the kiss, his eyes bore into yours with a smoldering intensity. "Now it's my turn," he murmurs, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs invitingly, his body already trembling with anticipation.

His words ignite a fire within you, filling you with a sense of eagerness and purpose as you eagerly accept his challenge. You move closer to him, your hands running along the defined muscles of his thighs as you drink in the sight of his aroused form. His erection stands proud against his abdomen, glistening with pre-cum and pulsing with desire. With a tender smile, you lean in, your lips pressing softly against the head of his cock. As the salty tang hits your tongue, an electric thrill shoots through your body, only fueling your desire. You begin to explore every inch of him with your mouth, experimenting with different techniques to bring him the ultimate pleasure. His body responds eagerly, his breathing growing heavier and his hips subtly rising to meet your mouth.

Xavier is lost in the sensations you're creating for him, reveling in the warmth and wetness that envelop him beneath your touch. Your lips form a perfect seal around his cock, applying just the right amount of pressure as you slide up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke.

Your skilled tongue becomes a master artist, painting intricate patterns of pleasure across the surface of his shaft, teasing and tormenting his most sensitive areas with expert precision. Every lick and suck elicits a moan from deep within him, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through his entire body.

The room is filled with the sounds of your shared passion, the wet, slick noises of your lovemaking mingling with his ragged gasps for air. His body trembles under your touch, desperate for release yet determined to hold himself back. He wants to savor every moment with you, to explore and taste and possess you in ways that he never has before. Reluctantly, he pulls away from your eager lips, his erection glistening with a mixture of your saliva and his own arousal.

Your eyes follow him as he withdraws, filled with a mixture of longing and disappointment. You understand his desire for more, you know what he expects of you and you can’t help but share your feelings, pleading with him to understand. “I’m scared, Xavier,” you admit softly, pain shining in your eyes as they meet his. “I want nothing more than to be with you, but…” You shake your head, giving him a soft smile as you trail off, your fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw as you murmur, “What happens after? What will become of me when I’m forced to love you from afar?” You voice a secret worry that weighs heavily on your heart. “It’ll likely be fine for a while… but eventually you’ll be expected to marry for the sake of your lineage, for your crown. And what then…?” You hate to do this in such a vulnerable moment for both of you, but the words just seem to tumble out. Your eyes meet his again, tears threatening to spill over as you whisper desperately, “You’ll just be with another in order to fulfill your duties?”

As your words wash over Xavier, they strike a chord deep within him, stirring up a tumultuous mix of guilt and responsibility. He'd always been aware that this situation was far from ideal, but hearing your fears spoken aloud brings the harsh reality into sharp focus. With gentle hands, he lifts you up and cradles you against his chest, leaning back against the cool stone wall for support. “I cannot promise you an easy future,” he confesses softly, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the night. “My duty to my kingdom, to my family, is a heavy burden that I may never truly escape.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “But I swear to you that I will do everything possible to ensure your happiness. I won't let you suffer, nor will I let you feel alone or unloved.”

His words fail to bring the comfort and reassurance you yearned for, and you find yourself pulling away from him in an attempt to gain some distance. You avoid meeting his gaze as you begin dressing, feeling his eyes follow your every move around the room. “I don’t think I can do this, Xavier. I’m so sorry. I thought I could, but I..." You trail off, feeling your heart shatter into a million tiny pieces with each word. You can't help but feel guilty; after all, you knew what you were signing up for when all of this began. What you truly want is for him to fight for your love, to reject the idea of being with someone else in the future. It's an unrealistic desire, and deep down, you know it. But even still, you can't push it aside. Finally mustering the courage to meet his gaze, a small smile graces your lips as you utter the three words that have been weighing heavily on your heart.

Xavier stands there, paralyzed with shock and confusion, as your words wash over him like a tidal wave. "I love you," you say, and his entire world seems to shift on its axis. A surge of emotion overtakes him, a whirlwind of joy and despair that threatens to engulf him completely. In that moment, he realizes the depth of his feelings for you, how much he desires to protect and cherish you. But duty and tradition hold him back, weighing heavily on his heart. The idea of a future together feels impossible, and this knowledge pierces him like a knife through the chest.

Summoning all his courage, Xavier steps towards you, reaching out to take your hands in his. His voice trembles with emotion as he speaks. "I can't imagine a life without you by my side." His words fill you with a potent mixture of hope and dread, but you refuse to let them break you. With a firm resolve, you untangle your hands from his and flee from the room, propelled by an urgency greater than any before.

Xavier remains rooted in place as you rush past him, each step taking you further and further away from him. Your parting words echo in his mind—"I have to go." He's uncertain if it's a physical or metaphorical departure, but either way, it feels like a gut-wrenching blow. For a long moment, he stands there staring at the closed door, his mind swirling with thoughts of what just transpired.

Finally, he exhales deeply and makes his way to the desk in the corner of the room. Collapsing into the chair, he buries his face in his hands. Strands of silver hair mingle with his fingers, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside him. He has no idea what lies ahead or if he can change the course of events now set in motion. All he knows is that the very thought of living without you is unbearable.

As the sun begins to rise, casting a pale glow over the palace, Xavier steels himself for the challenges ahead. His determination hardens like tempered steel as he prepares to fight for the chance to make you his. This isn't the end; it's only the beginning of a new chapter, one where he'll do whatever it takes to be with you.

With each step you take away from Xavier, the warmth and love he represents fades, replaced by the harsh and cold reality of the outside world. The air is still and hushed, as if nature itself is holding its breath in anticipation of the decisions you both must make. You inhale deeply, taking in the crisp morning air, trying to clear your mind of all distractions. You know you must figure out what comes next, but for now, you let your feet guide you aimlessly through the streets. Eventually, you find yourself in the palace gardens, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets.

As you sit on a bench, lost in thought and seeking answers amidst the chaos, the tranquility of the garden envelops you and eases your worries, if only slightly. Just as you are about to leave, a faint noise catches your attention from behind. Turning, you see Xavier sitting on the same bench where you were just moments ago, bathed in the flickering glow of torchlight. A mix of emotions floods over you - relief, longing, and a hint of apprehension. As he notices your presence, part of him wants to rush to your side, to hold you tight and never let go. However, another part remains cautious, understanding the delicate balance he must maintain. He calls out your name softly, his voice carried on the gentle breeze. As he draws closer, he can see the concern etched on your face and the uncertainty reflected in your eyes. "Did we come to the same realization?" he asks tenderly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face with a gentle touch of his fingertips against your skin. "No matter what lies ahead, I will stand by your side through every triumph and hardship."

His words are filled with conviction as he whispers them into your ear. You find yourself leaning into his embrace, your head resting against his chest. "And how do you plan to make this dream of ours come true?" you question, the reality of your circumstances hanging heavily in the air.

Xavier smiles softly, holding you close as he answers. "It won't be easy," he admits, the weight of your situation heavy on his heart. He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "First, I'll speak with my parents and explain our feelings. Perhaps they can offer guidance and support."

The steady thump of his heartbeat echoes in the quiet garden, a soothing rhythm that calms your nerves. You nod slowly, understanding the difficult road ahead but finding strength in the fact that you’ll face it together. "I trust you," you whisper against his chest, feeling a sense of peace and security in his strong embrace. The peaceful silence of the garden envelops you as you stay there for a while longer, basking in each other's presence. As you look up at him, a small smile plays on your lips, mirroring the grin on Xavier's face.

Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back to meet your gaze. The thought of speaking with the King and Queen makes your heart race, but the love and support Xavier has shown you gives you the courage you need. “Thank you, Xavier,” you whisper gratefully, overwhelmed by his unwavering love and loyalty. He squeezes your hand gently and speaks softly, “Thank you. Your bravery and unwavering love inspire me to keep fighting for us, no matter our challenges.” As you near the grand palace gates, its imposing formality seems less daunting with Xavier by your side.

“We’ll face this together,” he reassures you in a low, intimate voice. “Every obstacle, every doubt, we’ll overcome as a team.” With one final comforting squeeze of your hand, he releases it, ready to stand by your side as your love story unfolds before the entire kingdom.

His words fill you with hope and determination as you prepare to enter through the giant doors before you. But as they loom over you, all of your courage and determination begin to falter. The realization that the King and Queen are waiting on the other side fills you with apprehension and a small squeak escapes your lips as you grab onto Xavier's arm, seeking his comfort and support. "You want to speak with them now...!?"

As Xavier's hand covers yours, a sense of calm washes over you. You can feel the weight of his palm and fingers against your skin, grounding you in this moment. His reassuring smile offers a glimmer of hope as he guides you towards the grand doors of the royal chambers. Your heart races with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, knowing that this conversation could alter the course of your lives.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lies beyond those imposing doors. As Xavier knocks, the sound rings through the halls, signaling your arrival. The servants quickly open the doors, revealing the opulent and elegant atmosphere of the royal chambers. Walking alongside Xavier, you can feel the steady beat of his heart mirroring your own.

This is it – there's no turning back now. In a moment of nervous humor, you whisper jokingly, "You must really want to get into my pants, huh?" But Xavier is too anxious to appreciate your attempt at levity and only gives a small smirk and shake of his head.

As you enter the room, your eyes are immediately drawn to his parents seated on their thrones. Their expressions remain impassive as they observe your entrance. The weight of their gaze makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, but then you feel Xavier's hand intertwine with yours, providing a lifeline amidst such intimidating figures.

Gathering all his courage, Xavier stands tall and meets his parents' gaze. He takes a deep breath before beginning to speak. "Mother, Father, I have something important to discuss regarding the woman by my side." He pauses briefly to squeeze your hand before continuing. "From the moment I first laid eyes on her, I knew she was special – unlike anyone I had ever met before. And as I've gotten to know her these past few weeks, I've come to realize that my feelings for her go beyond mere attraction or fascination. They are rooted in a deep love and respect for her as a person." Your eyes never leave his, your grip on his hand unwavering.

With strength drawn from your presence, he shares the story of how you confessed your love and your shared desires for a future together. And in that moment, surrounded by the regal atmosphere and powerful figures, it's clear that there is nothing more important to Xavier than the woman standing beside him, holding his hand.

You stand quietly by Xavier's side, your chest tightening with each word he shares about your relationship with his parents. The gravity of the moment weighs heavily on you, a knot forming in your stomach as you wait for their reaction. Your eyes dart between them, searching for any hint of disapproval or condemnation in their expressions. "Queen Xaria..." you begin, addressing Xavier's mother with a shaky voice. "I understand the complexities that our love presents, especially given Xavier's duties and responsibilities to the crown. But I want you to know that my love for him is true and pure. I would never intentionally bring him pain or hardship." You pause to gather your thoughts before continuing. "If you desire me to step away from him, I will do so. But if you give us a chance, I promise to love, protect, and cherish him with every fiber of my being."

As Xavier listens to you, admiration shines in his eyes for your bravery in facing his parents. Your words ring with sincerity, a testament to the depth of your love for him. His parents exchange unreadable glances as they consider your plea. The air in the room thickens with tension as silence stretches on. Gripping your hand tightly, Xavier silently encourages you to remain steadfast and believe in him and your love.

Finally, his mother speaks, her tone measured and thoughtful. "We understand the depth of your feelings for each other," she begins, pausing to glance at Xavier before meeting your gaze again. "But we also recognize the weight of responsibility that comes with Xavier's position as the future king."

You hold onto Xavier's hand tighter, seeking comfort and reassurance in his touch as she trails off. Anticipation builds within you as she continues speaking. "However, we cannot deny the strength of your love nor the joy it brings you both. As loving parents, our greatest wish is to see you both happy and fulfilled in your lives." She takes a deep breath, her expression softening as she adds, "But there is one condition. You must be prepared to face the challenges and scrutiny that will undoubtedly arise from your union. There will be those who question your choices and try to use your relationship against you. Can you both promise to stand together, united and unwavering, in the face of these storms?"

Xavier's chest is heavy with a mix of emotions as his mother's words settle over him. Relief and trepidation swirl within him, knowing that her willingness to support his union with you comes with its own set of challenges. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the present moment, on the woman standing steadfast by his side, her hand entwined with his in a symbol of their unbreakable bond. "From the moment I knew you were destined to be mine, I vowed to stand by your side through whatever came our way," he says, his words filled with a fierce determination. "Together, we've faced countless obstacles, each testing our commitment to one another. And through it all, our love has only grown stronger." Turning to address his parents directly, Xavier's tone conveys the seriousness of his declaration. "We understand the challenges that await us. We acknowledge the potential backlash from those who might disapprove of our union. However, we also firmly believe that our love is a force capable of overcoming even the most daunting opposition."

You look at Xavier's parents, standing tall and confident beside him, and feel a surge of pride and love for this man who has chosen you as his partner. "Your Majesties," you say, addressing them respectfully but with conviction in your voice. "I understand the gravity of the situation and the challenges that lie ahead." You squeeze Xavier's hand reassuringly and continue, "I promise to stand by your side, now and forever, as your partner, your equal, and your friend."

He looks at his parents, their expressions still guarded but now holding a glimmer of understanding and acceptance. His father, King Aldric, clears his throat, breaking the silence that follows your declarations. "Very well," he says gravely. "While we cannot guarantee an easy path, we will not stand in the way of your happiness." He pauses, exchanging a knowing look with his wife. "We will support your decision, Xavier, and do everything in our power to ensure your union is recognized and respected within Philos and beyond. However, we implore you both to remain cautious and mindful of the potential repercussions that may arise from your relationship."

A bright smile lights up your face as you address the King and Queen. "Thank you, Your Majesties," you say sincerely. "I promise to make you proud."

Turning to Xavier, you can't help but smile with pure joy in your eyes, a reflection of the love and adoration you hold for each other. As his parents' smiles beam with pride and understanding, he stands by your side with a newfound confidence and purpose.

"We are forever grateful for your guidance and trust," Xavier addresses his parents, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We vow to honor our people and uphold our duty as future rulers." With this heartfelt statement, you both make your way into the bustling hall where guests have gathered to celebrate your union.

As the heavy doors close behind you, Xavier pulls you into a tight embrace, his laughter ringing out in relief and happiness. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his love and support, any remaining nerves or doubts dissipate.

"We did it, my love," he whispers against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He lifts you up in his arms with ease, twirling you around as he gazes at you with adoration and wonder. You share a soft kiss before he leads you onto the grand ballroom floor where an orchestra plays a lively waltz.

Underneath the glittering chandeliers, you move in perfect harmony with each other, lost in the music and each other's gaze. With every step and spin, you feel a sense of joy and freedom like never before.

Meeting his gaze, your heart swells with overwhelming love as you respond with equal passion and joy. "Yes, Xavier. And together, we'll continue to defy the odds," you declare, a sense of determination and certainty in your voice.

The sight of the crown prince dancing with a lady's maid may raise eyebrows and stir whispers among the guests, but in that moment, it doesn't matter. For in each other's arms, shielded from judgement and outside pressures, your love is all that truly matters.

The final notes of the waltz fade away, leaving a lingering sense of euphoria in their wake. Xavier leads you back to your chambers, your arms remaining wrapped around each other, reluctant to part ways after such a magical evening. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he speaks, his words brimming with unbridled love and adoration. "Our love is no longer a secret, and I couldn't be happier to call you mine." He presses a tender kiss to your lips, pouring all of his emotions into the simple act. The warmth and tenderness of his touch leave you breathless, your heart overflowing with love for this man who has captured it completely.

As you stand in the quiet comfort of your chambers, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the fragrant scent of roses, a thought crosses your mind - you really don't want him to leave. Your voice is soft and tentative as you speak, unable to deny the longing in your heart. "Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Xavier's heart swells with joy at your invitation, a radiant smile spreading across his face as he looks into your eyes. Without hesitation, he nods eagerly, his voice just as soft and full of tenderness. "More than anything."

You prepare for bed together, moving around each other with ease and familiarity, as if you've shared a bed countless times before. As you settle into the plush covers, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you against his chest. "Goodnight, my love," he murmurs against your skin, kissing your temple softly.

With your head resting against his shoulder, you close your eyes and allow yourself to fully surrender to the sensation of being held by the one who means everything to you. "Goodnight, my prince," you whisper back, your voice barely audible above the gentle hum of silence that fills the room. Hearing your words, Xavier tightens his embrace even more, feeling a surge of protectiveness and devotion towards you. As sleep starts to claim you, he remains awake for a while longer, watching over your peaceful form with a fierce sense of love and adoration. And as sleep finally claims him, too, your bound hearts continue to beat as one - two souls intertwined in an endless dance of love and passion.

As the days fly by in a whirlwind of wedding preparations, Xavier is struck by how effortlessly the two of you fall in sync. Your love grows stronger with each passing moment, like a delicate flower blooming under the warmth of the sun. Whether strolling hand in hand through the palace gardens or stealing kisses in the privacy of your chambers, every interaction feels charged with a depth of emotion and affection that leaves him breathless. Despite the urgent nature of the situation and the looming presence of court officials and advisors, he finds solace in your calming presence and unwavering support. Together, you navigate the complex labyrinth of royal protocol and familial expectations, your love serving as a beacon, guiding you through the chaos and illuminating your path forward.

As the wedding date draws near, the palace transforms into a vibrant tapestry of colors and scents, each detail carefully curated to reflect the beauty and significance of your union. On the eve of your wedding, you sit together in the moonlit grandeur of the palace library. The soft glow of candlelight dances across your skin, making you appear ethereal and otherworldly. Xavier takes your hand in his, marveling at the delicate curves and the warmth radiating from your very essence.

"In this short time, you've become the sun to my sky, the breath in my lungs, the very reason for my existence," he whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. Looking up at him, your eyes shimmering with tears, you are overwhelmed by the depth of love and adoration reflected in his gaze. Smiling softly, you squeeze his hand reassuringly, your heart overflowing with love and devotion.

"And you are the stars in my sky, the rhythm in my heart, the dream I never dared to believe could come true," you reply, gazing back at him with equal intensity. As your lips meet in a tender exchange, time seems to stand still. The weight of your impending nuptials is momentarily lifted, replaced by a flood of warmth that fills Xavier's heart to bursting. He savors the taste of your lips, the softness of your touch, and the love that flows between you like a river of molten gold.

When you pull away, your eyes lock, the depth of your connection evident in the way your gazes dance and meld together. And in that moment, he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you are the missing piece to his puzzle, the love he's yearned for all of his life.

With a gentle but firm grip around your waist, Xavier guides you back to your chambers. Inside, he continues to hold you, your bodies intertwined like two halves of a whole. Your laughter and quiet conversations fill the air as you bask in the love that radiates between you.

As you both prepare for bed, Xavier's eyes never leave yours. Tucked under the luxurious covers, you feel safe and loved in his arms. With a heart overflowing with love and happiness, you whisper softly, "Thank you for choosing me, Xavier." His sweet smile and loving gaze are all the response you need.

In the stillness of the night, as sleep claims both of you, Xavier holds onto you tightly, dreaming of the future that awaits you. In his dreams, he sees the children you'll raise together, the legacy you'll build as king and queen of Philos. And when dawn breaks, he awakens with a start, your name on his lips and excitement pulsing through his veins.

Xavier's eyes remain fixed on your peaceful face as the first light of day filters through the curtains. "Today, we seal our fate," he murmurs, tracing his fingertips lightly across your cheek.

The touch of his fingers on your skin stirs you from your slumber. With a gentle smile, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a tender kiss. "Today, we become one," you whisper against his lips, your voice filled with emotion.

Standing face to face, ready to embark on the most important day of your lives, Xavier is struck by the enormity of your love and its impact on his life. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew that you were meant to be his. And now, as you stand before him as his bride, that destiny is finally being fulfilled.

Taking your hand in his, Xavier brings it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. "Forever and always," he promises, sealing it with a loving gaze that speaks volumes of his devotion to you.

As you walk hand in hand towards the grand throne room, where your family, friends, and subjects await to witness your union, he steals glances at you, marveling at the beauty and grace that defines you. Your dress, a masterpiece of delicate lace and flowing satin, hugs your every curve and sparkles in the warm glow of candlelight. It complements your natural loveliness perfectly, making his heart swell with pride and adoration.

The sound of soft music fills the air as you glide down the aisle on the arm of your father, your head held high with confidence. At last, you reach the altar, where the priest waits to perform the sacred rite.

You listen attentively as he begins the ceremony, your mind focused on the vows you are about to exchange and the lifetime of love that awaits you. With each word spoken, you feel your bond strengthening, the barriers that once separated you dissolving like sand between your fingers. The warmth of Xavier's hand in yours reassures you that together, you can conquer anything.

As the ceremony progresses, you are acutely aware of the responsibility of being Xavier’s wife, his partner in every sense of the word. Yet, rather than feeling daunted by the challenges that lay ahead, you are filled with a sense of courage and resilience.

“As I stand before you today, I give you my heart and pledge my love for eternity," You speak from the depths of your soul, gazing into Xavier's deep eyes that hold a world of love for you.

Your vows resonate deeply within Xavier, filling his heart with a sense of joy and contentment. As the priest invites him to exchange his vows, he takes a deep breath, his throat constricting with emotion. Looking into your shining eyes, he’s overcome by the intensity of his feelings for you.

“From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the one I would spend the rest of my life loving. As I stand before you today, I offer you my heart, my soul, and my love, pledging to cherish and protect you until my final breath. I promise to lead our people with wisdom and justice, always remembering that my greatest achievement is the love that binds us together.”

As he finishes speaking, the priest pronounces you husband and wife, and Xavier feels a surge of elation and relief. He leans in to kiss you, your first kiss as a married couple, your love blazing like a beacon as you seal your vows.

With your loved ones and supporters by your side, you walk hand in hand down the grand aisle of the throne room, basking in their cheers and applause. The reception is a lavishly decorated affair, filled with the vibrant colors of flowers and streamers, the melodic strains of music, and the warmth of friendship and acceptance. As you dance with your new husband under the twinkling lights, you whisper words of love against his ear, knowing that this moment will be forever etched in both your hearts.

His strong arms hold you close as your first dance as husband and wife becomes a beautiful symphony, the rhythm of your hearts beating in perfect harmony. Xavier feels overwhelmed with emotions as he looks around at the smiling faces of your guests, each one a cherished friend or family member who has played a part in shaping your lives together. As the night wears on, he takes in every toast, well-wish, and congratulatory hug with gratitude and joy, feeling truly blessed to have such amazing people in his life who love and support him unconditionally.

As the grand festivities of the wedding come to a close, Xavier seeks refuge in the tranquil palace gardens, craving a moment of solitude amidst the whirlwind of joy and celebration. Under the twinkling stars, he finds you waiting for him, hand outstretched. You stroll together, the cool night air carrying whispers of love and secret desires and hopes for the future. Eventually, the comfortable silence is broken by your voice, tinged with both nervous energy and curiosity. "So... at what time will the consummation take place?" Although part of you dislikes the idea of being watched during such an intimate moment, you know it's tradition and necessary.

Your question elicits a small smile from Xavier, who also wishes for a more private and intimate experience. "Traditionally, the consummation ceremony takes place after the wedding feast and festivities have concluded, usually around midnight," he explains in a gentle tone. He can sense your thoughts swirling and reaches out to lift your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "But don't worry... Once the formalities are over, we'll sneak away and create memories that belong only to us." He leans in closer, his words a warm breath against your skin.

You nod eagerly, your eyes shining with anticipation. As the night wears on and the remaining guests continue to revel in the wedding festivities, you and Xavier make your way to the designated room for the consummation ceremony. Despite its public nature and slight awkwardness, there's an intense wave of arousal that sweeps over you as Xavier's body hovers over yours. In that moment, surrounded by onlookers yet lost in each other's embrace, you feel like no one else exists in this world except for you two. You nibble on his bottom lip playfully as your eyes lock with his, a soft, teasing smile dancing on your lips. "Take me, Xavier," you whisper breathlessly. "Show them who I belong to."

As your lips part, a surge of electric desire courses through Xavier at your bold declaration. He cups your face tenderly, his thumbs brushing against the delicate curve of your cheekbone as he whispers back, “You are mine. In this chamber and for all eternity.” He aligns his body with yours, feeling the warmth radiate from your skin.

His hands roam over every curve of your body, tracing the elegant lines of your collarbone before settling on your hips, pulling you closer to him. Breaking away from the kiss again, he nuzzles his nose against your throat, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he peppers your skin with feather-light kisses and teasing bites. His lips trail downward, pausing to worship each of your perked nipples through the thin fabric of your gown before continuing their path along your abdomen. When he reaches the waistband of your dress, he pauses, looking up at you with a sultry gaze that sends a rush of heat through your core. “May I?” he asks softly, seeking permission to continue.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you nod eagerly, completely giving yourself over to him. “Yes… please don't stop,” you breathe out in anticipation. He removes the fabric from your body with gentle tugs and caresses, revealing your stunning figure clad only in a sheer slip that leaves little to the imagination. He drinks in the sight of you, his pulse quickening at the erotic image before him. His lips continue their descent, exploring every inch of your sensitive skin as your legs begin to tremble with anticipation. The wait is almost unbearable, but finally, his fingers travel under the delicate lace of your slip, finding the wetness pooling there. With a deep groan, he traces your clit before slipping inside, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips.

Guided by your responsiveness, Xavier continues to explore every inch of your body with his skilled fingers. They trail along your inner walls, teasing and tantalizing as he steadily builds your pleasure. His lips follow suit, leaving a trail of soft kisses and lingering nibbles on your skin, savoring the taste of your arousal. As your breaths become ragged and your moans more insistent, he knows that the moment is near. He slows his pace, wanting to prolong this exquisite torture for both of you, wanting to make this moment last forever.

With a gentle thrust, he enters you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your body as he claims you completely. A collective gasp echoes through the chamber as you become one, but the audience fades into the background as he moves within you. Every nerve ending in your body sings with pleasure as you melt into him, the boundaries between you blurring as your hearts beat in perfect harmony. His movements grow more urgent, his thrusts deeper and more powerful as your passion reaches its crescendo.

And then it happens - that mind-blowing climax that sends shockwaves through your entire being. With one final, explosive burst of pleasure, you fall over the edge, your body wracked with spasms of pure bliss. Witnessing the look of utter ecstasy on your face as you come undone in his arms is a sight Xavier will carry with him forever. Your pleasure is his own as he pushes you both to the brink.

He gasps out your name, his own release barreling towards him like a raging storm. With one final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, planting his seed and finally claiming you as his own. The world stands still for a moment as you both bask in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The only sound is the symphony of your gasps and moans mingling with the distant cheers of your witnesses.

As your pulses gradually slow, Xavier cradles you close, relishing the warmth and closeness of your joined bodies. “You are mine, now and forever,” he whispers against your skin, sealing his vow with a tender kiss. “And I will cherish and adore you every moment of our journey together.”

“Yours, Xavier… Always and forever,” you murmur softly, your voice barely audible above the din of the crowd. Xavier gathers you in his arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over him as you prepare to leave the ceremonial space behind. He holds you close, knowing that from this moment on, you are his everything.

As his hand gently grasps yours, he leads you with a sense of anticipation and longing toward the sanctuary of his chambers. The soft light from the candles cast flickering shadows across the walls as you enter the dimly lit room, your heart racing with excitement at the prospect of finally being alone together. He lowers you onto the large, plush bed with careful hands, his gaze never wavering from yours as he begins to undress, revealing every inch of his sculpted form. Settling in beside you, he pulls you close, your skin tingling at the sensation of his naked body pressed against yours.

His hands explore every curve and contour of your body, igniting sparks of ecstasy with each caress. Your breath hitches as he trails lower, teasing and tantalizing your most sensitive areas. With a gasp, you arch your back, giving into the sensations overwhelming you.

His words send shivers down your spine as he claims you as his own once again. His touch becomes more urgent as he delves deeper inside you, bringing forth waves of pleasure that leave you begging for more.

As his length presses against your thigh, you reach down to guide him towards your entrance. Your eyes lock in an unspoken promise as he slides inside you, filling you completely.

A soft growl escapes his parted lips as he feels your tight heat envelop him, your grip around his length urging him to sink deeper into your welcoming depths. The sound sends shivers down your spine, knowing that you have the power to elicit such a raw response from him.

“Fuck, angel,” he groans, his voice laced with both pleasure and reverence. “You feel unbelievable wrapped around me like this.”

He begins to move, each withdrawal almost fully before plunging back in with an irresistible force. A steady rhythm is set, quickly building in intensity as he picks up speed. The air is filled with the sharp sound of skin slapping against skin in perfect harmony with your ragged breaths and the desperate whimpers that spill from your lips.

Sweat glistens on Xavier’s brow, a telltale sign of his impending release. With a deep groan, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, showering it with tender kisses and nips as he works towards your mutual climax.

“So close,” he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fights to hold back the tsunami of pleasure building within him. “I want to be inside you when we… Ahh!” With one final, powerful thrust, he surrenders to the inevitable, spilling his essence deep within you as a wave of ecstasy crashes over him.

Your body arches off the bed, consumed by overwhelming pleasure as you cry out his name over and over again. “Xavier… oh, Xavier,” you moan, your voice strained with pure bliss as his essence fills you.

As he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, you cling to him desperately, your nails leaving unintentional marks on his back as you try to hold onto the last shreds of control you possess. “Please… I need you to finish me off,” you beg, barely able to form words as waves of ecstasy continue to wash over you.

In response, Xavier redoubles his efforts, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster as he drives you over the edge. And finally, with a scream torn from your throat, you reach the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing around him in pure ecstasy.

With the aftershocks still coursing through your body, you collapse onto the rumpled bed sheets, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. A look of pure satisfaction spreads across Xavier's face as he watches you intently, unable to resist the temptation to claim you again. Letting out a low, guttural growl, he positions himself above you and grasps your hips tightly, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

As he leans in close, he lets his lips graze your ear. “You’re soaking me, angel,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. “I can feel your hunger, your insatiable craving for more... You were made to be fucked by me, weren’t you?” With each firm and forceful stroke, your bodies collide with an intoxicating rhythm that sends shivers down your spine.

As Xavier's movements become more urgent and primal, he can see the mix of pleasure and pain flickering in your eyes. And instead of holding back, it only pushes him to take you harder, faster - lost in the haze of ecstasy and passion that surrounds you both.

Feeling his own release approaching like a storm building within him, Xavier reaches down and grabs a handful of your hair before yanking your head back. He leans in close to nip at your earlobe before whispering a dark promise that sends shivers down your spine. "You're mine," he snarls, his body tensing as he reaches the brink of his release. "No one else will ever have you like this. Is that clear?"

The intensity of his possession only fuels your excitement, and you crave this primal display of his love and dominance. As Xavier's body pounds into yours, you can feel the pressure building within you once more - the familiar heat spreading through your core as your next orgasm approaches.

"All yours. I swear," you pant breathlessly, your voice barely audible above the sounds of your lovemaking. "Please...don't stop."

Your body writhes beneath him, pleading for more as your own climax draws near. And just as you're about to reach the peak, Xavier gives in to his own primal urges and releases himself inside of you once more. With a deep, guttural groan, he fills you to the brim with his seed, savoring the sensation of your walls clenching around him.

"That’s my girl," Xavier growls softly, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself into you completely.

Gradually, he relaxes, collapsing onto your body in a state of exhaustion. You both lay intertwined, your skin glistening with sweat as you bask in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "That was beyond words," Xavier murmurs, nuzzling against your neck while catching his breath. "You're stunning when you submit to me like that... so eager to please."

He peppers gentle kisses along your collarbone before pulling back and gazing into your eyes. "But there is still so much more I want to explore with you, so many opportunities for us to create pleasure together." A sly glint dances in his smile as he trails his fingers down your side. "Perhaps we can indulge in some new games. Ones that push the boundaries of your endurance..."

The mention of trying something new sends a rush of excitement through you. "What exactly do you have in mind?" you ask with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips.

Xavier's smile widens as he imagines the possibilities. "Well," he begins, his voice low and filled with seduction. "There are endless options we haven't explored yet. Some involve restraints and submission, others delve into sensory overload and heightened stimulation." He pauses, letting his fingers trace lazily along your arm as he formulates his ideas. "We could experiment with a 'kitty play' scenario. You would be my devoted pet, bound and blindfolded, relying on your other senses as you follow my every command." He watches closely for your reaction, his heart racing with anticipation.

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him close for a passionate kiss. "The thought of being completely at your mercy, chained by you and obedient to your every desire... I want that so badly."

A surge of excitement pulses through Xavier at your confession, the idea of you bound and surrendered to his control too irresistible to ignore. "Is that so?" he murmurs, his voice filled with desire and longing. "Then tonight, I'll be your master and you'll be my faithful, submissive pet."

He rolls off of you, his body still slick with sweat and the evidence of your earlier passion. With a newfound energy, he springs into action, retrieving the necessary tools— silken ropes, a soft blindfold, and a small bell attached to a collar. As he returns, you watch with rapt curiosity and eagerness, your eyes sparkling with excitement like two jewels in the darkness. Gently, he lifts the blindfold, placing it over your eyes, ensuring it fits securely but comfortably. The soft fabric envelops your vision, plunging you into a world of anticipation and surrender.

Next, he moves to the collar, presenting it to you with a reverence and care that belies the hunger in his expression. The cool metal feels both foreign and tantalizing against your skin, a tangible symbol of your submission to him.

You feel Xavier’s warm hands on you, guiding you to stand as if you were a precious doll under his control. The floor beneath your bare feet seems to shift and sway with every step, adding an intoxicating sense of disorientation to your heightened state of vulnerability. His fingers trail down your sides, lingering on your hips before drifting lower, teasing the edges of your slick folds.

Finally, with deliberate movements born from years of experience and desire for domination, he weaves the silken ropes around your body, securing you to a sturdy post in the center of the chamber. The rope snakes over your skin, creating intricate patterns that accentuate your curves and highlight your vulnerability. As he works, his eyes roam over your yielding form with possessive desire.

Once satisfied with the bindings, he steps back to survey his handiwork, admiring the way your body is stretched out before him, adorned with the subtle trapping of bondage.

He can't help but murmur in appreciation at the erotic tableau before him. "Such a pretty sight," he says thickly, his voice laced with desire. "Helpless and available for my pleasure alone."

Leaning in close to you, he whispers a command into your ear. "Now, kneel before me and present yourself. Show me how eager you are to please your prince."

Following his instructions, you slowly bend your knees and lower yourself onto the cool floor. You feel his hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you forward until your head is bowed in submission.

You listen attentively for his next command, ready to obey whatever he may have in store for you.

As if sensing your readiness and anticipation, Xavier leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before reluctantly pulling away. His footsteps echo softly in the silence as he moves to retrieve a small feather he had hidden away for this very occasion.

Returning to your side, he begins to trace delicate patterns across your cheeks and down your neck with the lightest touch of the feather. Goosebumps rise on your skin in response to the gentle caress, making you shiver with each soft sensation against your skin.

Xavier continues to guide your senses with the feather, using it as an extension of his will to direct your focus and heighten your sensitivity. The uncertainty of where the feather will land next only adds to your anticipation, sending shivers down your spine and causing your heart to race.

As Xavier's whispers wash over you like a soothing balm, you take deep, slow breaths, trying to steady your racing heart. You can almost feel the soft feather grazing your skin, its occasional touch sending shivers down your spine.

Your senses are heightened, attuned to every sound, scent, and sensation, all under his command and presence. As he continues to tease you with the feather, he introduces new elements into the mix, occasionally running his fingers along your bare skin in between the delicate strokes of the feather. The merging of sensations is heady and intoxicating, keeping you on the edge and wanting more.

Moving behind you, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, "Count the strokes." With each whispered number, he strikes your bare skin lightly with precision, alternating between gentle caresses and firm strokes. The rhythmic pattern creates a symphony of pleasure and pain that threatens to drive you mad with desire. As the count reaches twenty, Xavier pauses, his hot breath against your ear as he asks, "Are you ready for more?" Without hesitation, you respond with a quiet "Yes, I'm ready."

Stepping away briefly, Xavier retrieves a small leather paddle from the shadows. Its smooth surface glides over his fingertips before he returns to your side with deliberate steps. He traces the flat of the paddle down your back, from the nape of your neck all the way down to the curve of your hips, applying just enough pressure to soothe and seduce. The sound of leather meeting skin echoes through the room as each spank fills you with both pleasure and pain. He varies the location and intensity of each strike, creating an erotic melody that leaves you gasping for more. And then, with a calculated motion, he raises the paddle higher and brings it down with a firm, controlled spank on your bare ass.

Your body jerks in response to the sharp sting of the paddle, but you quickly register Xavier's low and approving voice. "Good girl," he praises, his words sending shivers down your spine. "That's it. Feel the sting, but don't forget to embrace the pleasure that follows." As each strike lands, you feel a burst of intense pain, quickly followed by a rush of warmth and pleasure that radiates throughout your entire being. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you struggle to process the overwhelming sensations. "Feels so good, my prince... please don't stop..."

Bound and blindfolded, your body writhes in pleasure under the force of each strike, a sight that fills Xavier with an intense arousal. After several more strikes, he senses you may be reaching your limit. Gently setting aside the paddle, he returns to your side, his hands tender as they explore your heated skin and soothe away any lingering pain. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers softly in the stillness. "You did well... Your resilience and submission are truly inspiring."

As his throbbing cock finds solace in the warmth of your eager mouth, Xavier revels in how seeing you restrained ignites such a primal urge within him - a need to dominate and use you as his own personal playground. With each measured and deliberate thrust, coated in your saliva and infused with raw, animalistic desire, he relishes in the fact that your bound form and blindfold restricts your ability to counter or resist. "Take it all, princess," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he drives deeper into your warm throat. "Show me how grateful you are for everything I've given you."

Lost in the sensations, you exist solely for Xavier's pleasure - eager to fulfill any demand he may have, no matter how depraved or perverse. The intensity within Xavier reaches a fever pitch, his grip on your bound wrists tightening as he loses himself in the ecstasy of claiming you utterly.

"That's it," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion as he drives deeper, chasing the brink of climax. "Let me use you as I see fit."

With a final, almost brutal push, he buries himself to the hilt, his hips thrusting forward as he fills your throat with his essence. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over him as he rides out his orgasm, every muscle in his body tense with ecstasy. He empties himself completely inside you, each powerful pulse of release sending shivers through his entire being.

Slowly, he withdraws from your mouth, his softening cock sliding free with a wet pop. Leaning down, he brushes a strand of hair from your dampened cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your plump lips. “Incredible,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with awe and admiration. “You took everything I had to offer and then some.”

Gently, he releases your bindings, taking care not to disturb the tranquility that now envelops you. Cradling your face in his hands, he presses a tender kiss to your lips, pouring all the love and adoration he holds for you into the simple gesture.

You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the embrace and silently pleading for more. “Make love to me once more? I want to be sure I get pregnant…” Your words ignite a surge of desire within Xavier. The thought of you carrying his child is almost too much to bear, stirring deep-rooted feelings of joy and possessiveness within him.

He scoops you up in his arms, cradling your naked form against his chest as he carries you towards the bed. His lips graze softly over your forehead, cheeks, and finally your lips as he lays you down. His body aligns with yours, his rigid cock seeking entrance into your slick, inviting warmth.

With a slow, steady push, he enters you once more. As he begins to thrust, he whispers vows of love and devotion into your ear, promising to protect and cherish you for all eternity.

With each intimate movement and stroke, your body responds with soft moans and gasps of pleasure. As you call out Xavier's name in a state of pure bliss, feeling his release pulsing inside of you, a sense of warmth and contentment washes over you, surpassing any physical satisfaction.

In the aftermath of your shared ecstasy, he presses his lips against yours, absorbing your cries and greedily breathing in your comforting scent. Holding you close, he cradles your trembling form as you come down from the peak of pleasure. In this moment, illuminated by the warm glow of the chamber and enveloped in the heat of your bodies entwined, he knows that he has found his home in you, his soulmate. Leaning down, he caresses your lips with a tender kiss. "Sleep now," he whispers against your skin, smoothing gentle strokes along your back to soothe you into peaceful rest. "Dream of our future together, filled with love, laughter, and joy..."

With a final sigh of contentment, you surrender to sleep, acutely aware of Xavier's comforting presence and grateful for his protection. As he holds you close, he realizes that with you by his side, he feels invincible and unstoppable. Together, you will conquer whatever comes your way and leave your mark on the world as a testament to the love and passion between you.

In this tranquil moment, he is overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of your love and the promise of a lifetime spent wrapped in your arms. Your love story is just beginning to unfold like the sunrise, and he eagerly awaits the new chapters that await you both as you write your own epic tale, hand in hand and heart to heart.

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