#spoiler the animal gets shoot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepylittlestarwrites · 11 days ago

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♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ •„)♡ ￣U U￣ ⤷ 21 days ✰ pairing: soft!dom⌇xavier ⤷ fem!sub⌇reader

✰ cw: mdni, graphic sexual content, based on xavier's 21 days card, fingering, marking (bites/hickeys), oral: ꒰f&m receiving꒱, possessive behavior, no protection, slight spoilers to xavier's shooting stars myth, loss of virginity (both xavier and mc), consensual somnophilia at the end (if you squint), so much squirting, cum... slurping? (so cringe I’m sorry, idk what to call it😩), dry humping/cumming in boxers, self-pleasure, mild dirty talk compared to my usual xavier, multiple orgasms, overstim, angel/sweet girl/good girl used sparingly

• wc: 10.3k 🌸

• tags: @kodaswrld & @issysh3ll - as always; thank you for the dividers! :))

Xavier sits on the edge of the bed, lost in thought as he gazes at your sleeping form. The moonlight filtering through the window casts a soft glow on your peaceful face, making you look even more breathtaking than usual. He settles for simply drinking in the sight of you—the way your lips slightly part, the fan of your long lashes against your cheeks, the soft swell of your breasts beneath the sheets. Tomorrow, this mission ends, and who knows if or when he'll get to be this close to you again.

Over the past 21 days, Xavier has poured every ounce of his being into making this assignment memorable for you. Each day, he’s gone out of his way to pamper and spoil you, hoping that somehow, someway, you'll realize the depth of his feelings. Cooking your favorite meals, planning surprise outings, and even indulging in your love for anime marathons—he’s done it all.

And there were moments… fleeting yet precious, where Xavier dared to hope his feelings might be reciprocated. Like during one of the many days spent lounging around in front of the TV, when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting comfortably on his chest… Or the soft giggle of your laugh echoing in the kitchen as he taught you to cook one of his ancestral recipes.

Each interaction feels like a precious treasure, a fleeting glimpse into a life he desperately craves but fears he can never fully have—your head tilting back in that laughter, free and carefree in a way he rarely sees. Your slender fingers brushing against his arm as you reach for popcorn, sending sparks of electricity racing across his skin. The tender expression on your face as you watch him train, pride and something much softer simmering in your eyes.

It’s the quiet moments that speak volumes, though. Like the time you caught him stargazing on the balcony, and instead of interrupting, you simply leaned against the railing beside him, following his gaze to the vast expanse above. “It's beautiful,” you murmured, your voice barely louder than a whisper. Almost as beautiful as the stars I see in your eyes.” Those words had lodged themselves in Xavier’s heart, a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty eating away at him.

But as the moon makes its way to the tip of the sky, signaling the end of your time together, reality and doubt come crashing down on him full-force. Maybe you really do just see him as a friend, an ally, nothing more... And that knowledge brings a bittersweet pain to his heart, a sting sharper than any blade.

As the faint whisper of your voice floats through the air, Xavier's heart skips a beat, drawn towards you like a magnet. He can only watch in stunned silence as the sheet slips from your body, revealing your bare breasts covered only by a thin white tank top. His breath hitches in his throat, heart pounding wildly against his chest as his eyes catch the outline of your nipples, perking in the cool air around them. It's almost like seeing you vulnerable for the very first time, a sight reserved only for his dreams until now.

You start to stir slightly under his gaze, instinctively nuzzling closer to his warmth without waking up, and Xavier swears he feels time stop completely. Unable to resist, his eyes trail slowly down your neck, taking in every inch of exposed skin, the graceful curve of your collarbone, leading down, down to where the flimsy fabric pools between your breasts.

With a strangled groan, Xavier forces himself to tear his gaze away from your tempting form, feeling like he's ripping his own heart out in the process. A final, shuddering breath later and he’s slipping from the room, gently clicking the door shut behind him. He moves through the space on autopilot, his body acting on instinct as his mind reels. Upstairs, in the spare bedroom he's been using, he spots the workout equipment set up in the corner. Perfect.

He moves through the motions of his workout with a single-minded focus, sweat dripping down his lean form as he grips the pull-up bar. His muscles strain and flex with each movement, a testament to the rigorous training regimen he's maintained for centuries. The burn in his arms is a welcome distraction from the storm in his heart, but even as he pushes his body to its absolute limit, he can't shake the image of your sleeping form from his mind.

So, still shaken, Xavier drags himself into the bathroom adjacent to the guest room. He turns the faucet to the coldest setting possible, bracing himself as the icy water cascades over his heated skin, trying desperately to clear his mind of the intoxicating image of your nearly nude form tangled in the sheets downstairs.

But even as the frigid spray assaults his senses, he can’t shake the vivid memory... His imagination starts running wild, conjuring up scenarios of how the sheets might have slipped even lower while he'd been lost in his workout. Perhaps exposing the delicate curves of your hips, the cute little junction between your thighs...

He grips the tiled wall with trembling hands, knuckles turning white as he fights to regain control. Each droplet of ice-cold water seems to caress his body like ghostly fingers, mimicking sensations he aches to experience with you.

Desperate for distraction, Xavier starts reciting equations, ancient alien languages, anything to occupy his thoughts. But he can’t stop imagining your melodious laugh echoing off the tiles, your slender arms wrapping around him from behind...

With a strangled groan, he allows his resolve to crumble, letting the water grow hotter, his traitorous hand already roaming over his slick, chilled skin. He bites back a groan as his hand drifts, fingers splayed wide as if trying to map every contour of muscle, grazing the soft silvery curls that lead down to...

Xavier hisses through clenched teeth, grip tightening on the tiles as his fingers curl around his hardening length, and with a shaky exhale, he opens the floodgate of forbidden images—phantom touches, whispered words, shared breaths.

His eyes shut tight as if to block out the temptation, but he's already lost in fantasy, letting his mind wander to what it would feel like to have you pressed against him, your soft curves molding perfectly to the hard, wet planes of his body… He imagines trailing reverent kisses along the elegant column of your throat, tasting the salt of your skin, relishing the quickening pulse beneath his lips…

He murmurs your name then, the sound swallowed by the rush of water. In his mind's eye, you’re looking up at him with hooded eyes, your lips parted invitingly, silently begging for more. Slowly, sensually, he’s exploring every inch of your body, mapping out the constellations of freckles and beauty marks that he's only glimpsed before.

But suddenly, like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head, realization crashes over Xavier. He snaps out of his fantasizing, horror and shame flooding through him as he registers what he's done—what he was about to let himself do. Cursing vehemently under his breath, he wrenches open the glass door and steps out of the shower, nearly slipping on the wet tile in his haste. Even if only in his mind, every single time it feels like a violation, a betrayal of your trust.

Heart hammering, he yanks on fresh clothes with shaking hands. Everywhere he looks, he can practically see echoes of his sinful imaginings taunting him.

“I'm supposed to protect you, not...not defile you in my head like some kind of depraved monster.” Self-loathing laces his heated whisper as he stalks to the dresser, slamming his fist against it in frustration.

Feeling like a caged animal, Xavier needs to do something else, anything, really, to distract himself from the thoughts rampaging through his mind. So he heads towards the kitchen with determined steps, quietly pulling ingredients and pots from their rightful places. But his hands aren’t steady, thanks to the sudden surge of adrenaline, and the knife he uses to chop vegetables makes jerky movements at best before nearly slicing his finger off. With a muffled curse, he settles for just dropping everything into the frying pan. He doesn't know whether the anger with himself or sheer stupidity made him believe he could cook this time, but within minutes, the room is filled with the smell of burning food.

Just as the smoke detector begins to shrill its warning, a soft, sleep-addled voice pierces through the chaos. “Xavier? What's going on?”

His head snaps up to see you standing in the doorway, a thin, bunny print robe wrapped loosely around your frame. Gratitude surges through him at the sight—at least you're covered now. Still, he can't help but let his gaze linger on the pretty curve of your neck, the way your hair is tousled from sleep.

“I...ah…” He clears his throat awkwardly, realizing he must look like a man possessed. “I was just trying to...distract myself.” The words come out quiet, tinged with embarrassment.

Without thinking, he’s reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your cheek. Your skin is still flushed and warm from the pillow, so impossibly soft… He wants to touch more, to gather you into his arms and soak you in, but he restrains himself.

“We both know I'm not very good at it, though," he mutters dryly, gesturing to the smoking mess in the pan.

Taking in the scene before you with drowsy eyes and a quirked brow, a mixture of amusement and concern flickers across your features. You definitely walked in on Xavier amidst what seems like some intense self-reflection. Or perhaps a nervous breakdown? Either way, your heart can't help but soften at the adorably disheveled sight of him. The stressed set of his silver brows and the way he nervously avoids eye contact only confirms that something is indeed on his mind. Honestly, you don't think you've ever seen him so flustered before...

“Distract yourself from what?” you ask, taking a step closer, the ties of your robe swaying as softly as your voice. The floral scent of your perfume mingles with the smell of burnt food, creating a strange but oddly comforting aroma.

Reaching out, your tiny hand comes to rest on his forearm, and even through the fabric of his shirt, your touch feels electric, sending sparks racing along Xavier’s nerves. “Is everything okay, Xavier?” Your voice is tender, searching, full of genuine worry.

Xavier stiffens under your touch, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He's definitely in trouble now… His lips part to respond, but for a moment, no words come out. How exactly does one explain their straying thoughts, their wandering hands, without sounding like a pervert? Or worse, confirming the fact that he might just be one?

When he finally meets your gaze again, he's acutely aware of the fire in his blue eyes, the smoky haze having replaced his usual calm demeanor. He clears his throat again, a futile attempt to rid himself of the sudden dryness. “I, uh...I had some...um, troubling thoughts.”

Confusion clouds your eyes as you search his face, noting the flush coloring his pale cheeks and ears and the conflicted look in those piercing blue depths. Troubling thoughts? At this late hour? You furrow your brow, unconsciously leaning closer to him as if proximity alone could unravel the mysteries hidden within him.

It strikes you then, as inconvenient as it is untimely, the absurdity of the situation: 21 days later, you are still dancing aimlessly around each other, locked in an endless loop of 'what ifs', both refusing to breach that invisible barrier between you. It's almost laughable, really, in a bittersweet sort of way, how oblivious you both seem to be.

Desperate to ease the tension, to pull you both out of this uncomfortable silence, an idea sparks to life. “I know! Why don't we watch a movie?” You suggest brightly, internally cringing at how forced your enthusiasm sounds. But you forge ahead nonetheless. ��We can make some popcorn, get all cozy on the couch… It might help take your mind off whatever’s bothering you.” Your gaze darts to the clock on the wall then, noting the late hour with a twinge of sadness. Only a few precious hours left together before you need to get ready to leave…

The corners of Xavier's lips twitch into a weak smile as he nods. “Yeah, that sounds really nice.”

Hurriedly, he moves to help you prepare tea and snacks, gathering the necessary items onto a tray while stealing occasional glances at your profile. Something as simple as making tea together feels oddly intimate now, knowing it's possibly the last time he'll be doing it with you like this.

Once everything is ready, Xavier follows you to the living room, placing the tray carefully on the coffee table before settling down next to you on the couch. As the opening credits roll, he finally allows himself to lean back against the cushions, breathing in the calming scent of the tea mixed with the soothing floral notes of your perfume.

Lost in the movie, your body betrays you, instinctively seeking his warmth and comfort. Gradually, imperceptibly, you allow yourself to drift closer to Xavier, until the mere inches between your bodies are insignificant.

Suddenly, a particularly terrifying jump scare blares from the speakers, causing you to jolt violently. In your panic, your hands fly up to clutch at the first solid thing nearby—in this case, the firm planes of Xavier's chest. Soft breasts press against his arm as you wedge yourself against his side, face burying itself into the crook of his neck with a startled gasp.

“Oh absolutely not!” you exclaim, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Your racing heart pounds erratically, but you can't tell anymore if it's solely due to the scary scene unfolding on screen since the musky scent of Xavier’s skin fills your nostrils, the rapid thrum of his pulse matching your own. For a moment, you simply revel in being this close to him, wishing you could stay enveloped in his protective embrace forever.

Then his quiet laughter fills the room, warm puffs of air tickling the top of your head as his hand slides over your back in a soothing rhythm. He watches as you huddle into him, heartbeat gradually returning to normal but fingers remaining firmly clasped onto his shirt.

With a gentle touch, he lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jawline as he gazes down into your wide, scared eyes. Your breath hitches as he starts tracing feather-light patterns along your jaw, setting your nerve endings ablaze with every delicate touch. Those striking blue eyes hold you captive, boring into your soul with an intensity that steals the very air from your lungs.

Almost unconsciously, your tongue darts out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and you watch transfixed as Xavier's gaze zeroes in on the movement. Time seems to stretch and warp around you, narrowing down to this singular, pivotal moment hanging suspended between you both.

“I-is… is everything alright?” Your voice emerges as a trembling whisper, scarcely audible over the pounding of your heart as it picks up in speed once again. But beneath the shy uncertainty in your tone, there's an undercurrent of longing, a desperate plea for him to take this chance, to finally shatter the invisible walls keeping you apart, because you're not so sure if you dare to do it yourself.

“Honestly? It’s everything but alright.”—that would be Xavier’s answer to your question, were he actually able to speak. His gaze shifts down to your mouth, the sight of your plush pink lips stealing the last reserves of his sanity. Despite the desperate need coursing through him, he feels surprisingly shy, almost uncertain. “I…” he pauses, swallowed by the weight of the confession hovering on the tip of his tongue. “I want to kiss you...” The words end up tumbling out in a hushed murmur, laced with hope and longing.

A single, very trembly nod is all you can muster up, a myriad of emotions playing across your delicate features—surprise, joy, nervousness, and above all, overwhelming desire. You hardly even dare to breathe, scared your sudden movement might shatter the moment completely.

As if moving through a dream, Xavier leans in with painstaking slowness, giving you every opportunity to pull away, to rethink. But you remain rooted to the spot, pulse fluttering wildly in your throat as anticipation coils tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.

The first brush of his lips against yours is impossibly soft, almost tentative. A question seeking permission, the search for confirmation that this is truly happening. Slowly, savoringly, he deepens the pressure, one large hand coming up to cradle the nape of your neck as he angles your head to better fit his mouth to yours.

He kisses you like you're the most precious thing in the universe, reverent and ardent in equal measure. And the way his lips move against yours… you feel like you could combust on the spot from sheer ecstasy. When he finally pulls back, it's only far enough to rest his forehead against yours, sharing the same air in your mutual, blissed-out daze.

“I… I can't tell you how long I’ve wanted this.” The hushed confession spills from him like a secret hoarded too tightly for too long, an admission laden with unspoken meaning.

Cradling your face in his hands, he examines your features up close for what feels like the very first time—every freckle, every delicate curve, the soft parting of lips slightly reddened from his kisses. And then, like a whispered prayer, Xavier sees the single syllable fall from your lips in a breathless entreaty: “more.”

The whispered plea has his breath catching, heart pounding harder in his chest. Without breaking eye contact, he takes a deep breath and slowly pulls you onto his lap, cradling you like a precious treasure, one he's finally being allowed to rightfully claim.

He starts peppering your face with tender kisses, trailing from your forehead down to the tip of your nose before capturing your lips once more. With one hand buried in your hair and the other tracing lazy designs across the small of your back, he drinks you in like a man finally being fed a feast worthy of his insatiable appetite.

Soft moans escape his throat, mixing with your own needy whimpers as he tastes and trails his lips down the sensitive skin of your neck. Each flick of his tongue against your jugular vein, each graze of teeth against the lobe of your ear sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, making you arch into his embrace and tremble in his hold.

Suddenly, he’s picking you up, your body molding perfectly against the plush rug as he gently lays you down, the heat from the crackling fire casting a warm glow across your flushed skin. He hovers over you, drinking in the sight of your disheveled hair fanning out around your face, cheeks rosy from his kisses, those captivating eyes glazed with desire…

Slowly, reverently, he traces the outline of your parted lips with his thumb, marveling at how they quiver under his touch. "So beautiful," he murmurs, voice low and rough with barely restrained hunger.

Your hands fist in the silky strands of his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp as you tilt your head back in clear invitation. The feeling of his lips searing a trail down your throat is indescribable every single time, like a flame licking at every nerve ending, leaving a path of molten desire in its wake. “So good,” you whisper breathlessly against his ear, hands tightening their grip on his hair as he continues painting vibrant streaks of pleasure across your body with his mouth.

Large hands skim reverently up your sides, pushing the robe off your shoulders until it pools uselessly at your sides, revealing every inch of the tantalizing expanse of silky skin underneath. But it's the sight of that thin, straining tank top that makes his breath catch, pupils blown wide with sudden, all-consuming lust. Rosy peaks push insistently against the flimsy fabric again, betraying your body's arousal as you tremble beneath his heated gaze.

“May I?” The words are a low, strained rasp, quietly requesting further access to your body laid out so trustingly before him.

“Yes," you whimper breathlessly, lost to everything but the press of his skin against yours and the building ache between your thighs. "Please, don't stop..." His name tumbles from your lips then like a plea, a desperate cry to lose yourself in the madness consuming you both. And losing himself is exactly what Xavier does.

He takes his sweet time, drawing slow, wide circles around your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. He listens to your breathy whimpers, the little sounds you make as he toys with the hardened peaks beneath the fabric, goading you into a state of adorably flustered impatience.

He finds himself growing increasingly entranced by the heat in your gaze and the tremors running through your body. Watching you squirm in his lap is quickly becoming his new fascination, an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and agony that he just can't resist.

“Please…” The breathy plea tumbles from your lips unbidden, half-formed and threaded with desperation. Your hips twitch restlessly, chasing the phantom touch of his hands as they skim teasingly along your ribcage. The ache between your thighs starts pulsing with increasing urgency, dampening the thin fabric of your panties.

Impatiently, almost roughly, you yank your tank top over your head and toss it aside. Cool air pebbles your exposed flesh, rosy nipples standing at attention in the warm glow of the firelight. “Touch me," you demand, voice ragged with need. "I want to feel your hands on my bare skin, Xavier. Please..."

Xavier sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of you sprawled out, skin flushed prettily from the heat rolling off the fire, eyes darkened with unbridled desire, begging for his touch. For a split second, he simply stares, almost drunk on your beauty.

Then he's leaning in, a hand coming up to cradle one of those delicious swells, his thumb sliding teasingly over the taut peak again. “So incredibly perfect,” he murmurs reverently. An eager little moan parts your lips as he kneads the other breast just as delicately, drinking in every gasp and whimper that tumbles from your lips. “Like rose petals wrapped in silk…”

His mouth descends upon yours again, inhaling that adorable little noise, greedy for your taste, drunk on your pleasure. One hand strays lower, tracing the luscious curve of your hip, slipping under the elastic band of your panties, sliding back and forth over the smooth, bare skin of your ass.

“Oh f-fuck,” he groans against your lips, burying his face in the hollow of your throat, panting against your pulse. “You're so soft, so warm…”

Lowering his head, he drags the flat of his tongue along the underside of one breast before drawing the peak into the wetness of his mouth. He suckles gently, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue as his hand continues its sensual massage on the other side.

His eyes never stray from yours… molten blue darkening with barely restrained hunger as he drinks in your every reaction. His control frays visibly with each roll of your hips, each needy sound that falls from your lips. It's clear the leash on his restraint is going fast, slipping another notch as you arch your tit into his mouth with a breathless keen. Soon, Xavier won't be able to hold back the tidal wave of long-suppressed desire crashing over him. Gods, he's almost terrified he might lose control and hurt you...

He pulls back slightly then, studying you for a brief moment before blurting out the first thing that pops into his head. "Are… are you sure about this?" he rasps, almost choking on the words.

“Because...because I'm barely hanging on by a thread here.” Confessing this to you leaves Xavier feeling almost naked, vulnerable in his own skin. It's both a frightening and exhilarating feeling. “I don't want to do anything you'll regret when we leave here,” he admits hoarsely, the fearful admission lining his words with raw sincerity.

Your hand cups his cheek tenderly, fingertips brushing lightly over the edge of his jawline. In this moment, you can feel the tension coiled tightly within him, see the vulnerability swimming in those mesmerizing blue depths. It takes your breath away, the depth of emotion, the sheer weight of his concern for your wellbeing.

“I've never been more certain of anything in my entire life, Xavier," you murmur, voice soft yet filled with conviction. Shifting closer, you nuzzle your nose against his, bringing your forehead to rest gently against his own. "I want this. I want you. And I could never, ever regret being with you. It just isn’t possible.”

To emphasize your point, you pepper feather-light kisses along his cheekbone, down the line of his throat. Each press of your lips is a whispered promise, an affirmation of your desire. “Let yourself go,” you breathe against his pulse point. "I can handle whatever you have to give me.”

Your free hand slides down his chest, fingertips tracing the rigid planes of his abdomen before coming to rest just above the waistband of his pants. You look up at him through lowered lashes, eyes smoldering with blatant lust. "Show me," you purr, voice dripping with honey and sin. "Show me how much you want me, Xavier."

His eyes bore into yours, a storm of emotions swirling in those cerulean depths—desire, adoration, disbelief, and a fierce intensity that steals your breath. For a long, suspended moment, he simply stares at you, as if committing every detail of your face to memory. The air between you feels so charged… practically electric with the weight of this pivotal moment.

Then something shifts, a subtle change in his demeanor. The gentleness remains, but it's now tempered with a steely resolve that sends shivers racing down your spine. Large hands come up to frame your face, thumbs stroking reverently along your cheekbones as he holds your gaze captive.

“Just remember: you asked for it.” In one fluid motion, he surges forward, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that steals the very air from your lungs. It's a kiss of possession, of raw need, his tongue delving past your parted lips to stroke against yours in a blatant imitation of much more intimate acts.

Then he breaks the kiss, only to descend upon your exposed breasts. His mouth latches onto one peaked nipple, suckling hungrily with a roughness that wasn't present earlier. He alternates between showering it with hot, wet kisses and scraping his teeth lightly over the hardened bud, earning delicious whimpers from your parted lips.

Meanwhile, his hand is hard at work on the other, squeezing, fondling, as if trying to etch the very feeling of you into his skin… His grip is almost punishingly firm, but it only serves to stoke the fire of need smoldering in your belly, urging you to beg and plead for more.

And just when you think you can't take it any longer, that he's going to leave that nipple just as bruised and needy as the last, he suddenly releases it with a soft pop, dragging his mouth up the center of your chest, over your collarbone, until he's level with your ear.

“I couldn't sleep earlier, you know,” he confesses quietly, large hands continuing their sensual exploration of your curves. “So I came to check on you, and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly. “The sight of you lying there in this thin little top, your nipples practically begging for my touch…”

One calloused palm cups your breast, thumb circling the stiff peak. "It took every ounce of my control not to crawl into bed with you then, to wake you up with my mouth all over these perfect tits..." The crude words from his typically sweet mouth, combined with the heat of his gaze boring into you, makes your stomach flutter uncontrollably

“I even had to jerk off in the bathroom because I couldn't control my thoughts.” His words send a shiver of delight down your spine, fueling the growing heat in your core. “Because I couldn't stop thinking about fucking you, right there in your bed, your cute little body wiggling and gasping beneath mine.”

Holy hell… the imagery that invades your mind as he speaks sets your blood aflame. You can't help but picture him, flushed and panting, gripping himself with a white-knuckled fist against the cool tiles of the bathroom. Stroke after stroke, reliving the fantasy of having you splayed out before him, aching and needy, as he sinks into you…

Tearing yourself away from the erotic mental image proves difficult, but you force your gaze to lock with his, drinking in the molten blue fire consuming those icy irises.

“I wish you had,” you rasp, reaching up to thread trembling fingers into silvery locks. Your other hand maps the defined expanse of his back, nails raking lightly before digging in. “Woken me up like that, that is. I would've let you do anything you wanted.” The words are barely a whisper but they're weighted like a solemn vow.

Something in Xavier seems to break with your admission—the dam holding back centuries of restrained emotion crashing and shattering in a mere instant. Gone is the brooding tension, the tightly leashed control that defines him. In its place blooms unrestrained delight, shining through his face with luminous joy. He looks at you with an expression that seems to say 'Is this real? Do you truly want me that much?' His almost boyish grin somehow manages to be disarmingly innocent yet still sexy as sin.

Slowly, reverently, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles grazing your cheek. "Is that so?" he murmurs playfully, nose brushing against yours.

This pure happiness radiating from him, his usually stern features transformed by that boyish smile, makes you feel all warm and squishy inside. Impulsively, you tilt your chin up to capture his lips in a sweet, fleeting kiss. “Mmhmm,” you hum against his mouth, punctuating the affirmation with a light peck to the corner of his lips. Trailing your fingers through the soft strands of his hair again, you take time to marvel at how it feels like cool silk sliding over your fingertips, like moonlight turned tangible.

“Let me put it this way…” you murmur shyly, ducking your head to hide the fierce blush spreading across your cheeks. The idea of admitting the depth of your desire for him aloud fills you with giddy nerves and liquid heat swirling low in your belly. But the adoring look on Xavier's face, the sheer happiness you’re bringing him, emboldens you.

Slowly reaching out, you trace the elegant line of his jaw, marveling at the texture of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips. Your thumb skims across his lower lip and catches there. “I want you so badly sometimes that it physically hurts," you confess, voice lowering to an awed whisper thick with longing. “Like...like a constant ache, thrumming through every cell.” Your free hand fists in the front of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer.

“This proximity we've shared this past month, not being able to touch you the way I craved?" A little noise escapes you as he presses in, large hands coming up to bracket your ribs. With a shaky inhale, you risk one more statement heavy with meaning. “I was dreaming of you tonight, when you came into my room to check on me. I dream of you every night, Xavier… Asleep or awake.

This soft confession of yours causes a soundless explosion to ignite in Xavier's chest. There's so much pent-up emotion clawing for release… he barely knows where to start or how to even begin to articulate everything he wants, everything he's never even admitted out loud. But what he can do is react. Without either thought or grace, he moves. Leans in. Claims your lips in a powerful, bruising kiss.

There's a fierce desperation in the way he touches you now, an urgency that ignites like a forest fire threatening to consume all in its path, spreading from one acre to another, unable and unwilling to be tamed until there's nothing left but charred remains and ashes in its wake.

Even in the dancing glow of the fire, you can see the intensity smoldering in his icy blue gaze as it rakes over your body. Calloused fingertips skim down your sides, your hips, leaving tingles in their wake. Dipping into the waistband of your panties, Xavier hooks his thumbs under the delicate lace, slowly beginning to drag the scant fabric downward.

“The dreams…” he murmurs, the soft words laced with barely restrained lust. “They’ll be nothing compared to the real thing. And I'm going to make each and every one come true... Starting right now.”

With a final tug, he strips your panties away completely, baring you fully to his hungry gaze. Then his mouth is trailing scorching kisses down your throat, pausing to suck lightly at your racing pulse point. Lower and lower he goes, mapping the swell of your breasts with lips and tongue, dipping into your navel teasingly. Finally, thank the gods, he settles between your parted thighs.

For centuries, Xavier has trailed in the shadows of your life after life, an unseen protector, a quiet admirer, a devoted lover. Ever patient, ever steadfast, his focus on you has never once wavered.

And now here he is, reverently tracing his tongue along your dampened folds, worshiping your pussy as his fingers dig deep into your thighs to hold you down. He buries his face deeper, lapping at your sensitive flesh with firm strokes.

As Xavier's skilled tongue paints swirls around the sensitive bud, your fingers tangle desperately in his hair. Hips bucking into his touch, shameless moans spill freely from your lips as jolts of pure pleasure radiate through you.

Through hooded eyes, you watch him work, face flushed and eyes feverishly intense, completely enraptured by your reactions. Each shudder and keen is met with a low groan that vibrates deliciously against you.

Lost in a haze of sensory overload, Xavier grinds his cloth-covered erection desperately against the plush rug below. Each roll of his hips and swirl of his tongue around your throbbing bud brings him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, angel,” he rasps between long, languid laps. "Your taste...I could drown in it." Strong hands grip your thighs harder as his grinds against the floor grow almost frantic. The sight of this incredible man reduced to dry humping the ground, clearly wild with need for you, sends a dark thrill zinging down your spine.

But suddenly, he pulls back, panting harshly. Eyes glazed with lust meet yours, a telltale flush high on his cheekbones, spreading up to his ears. "I..." Xavier begins hoarsely, voice strained. “This is a first for me...”

In the midst of confusion over such a mind-blowing revelation, his hot mouth closes over your clit again and sucks HARD.

Panting, moaning, your senses spinning out of control as the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, you blink at him in a daze of pure delight. With no hope of words if he keeps on, you reach for him and tug at his hair, trying to bring his eyes back to yours.

Gasping, you manage to force words past the desire clogging your throat, soft but laden with importance. "Me too," you admit to him, almost embarrassed to do so, somehow worried that this knowledge might scare him off.

But Xavier's eyes just widen in shock, a myriad of emotions playing across his lovely features as your confession sinks in. Disbelief wars with elation, awe with relief, as he processes this precious gift of information.

“Wait... you..." His voice emerges rough with feeling, barely even there at all. Slowly, reverently, he crawls back up your body, settling between your splayed thighs without putting his full weight on you. Large, calloused hands cup your face gently, thumbs stroking your flushed cheeks.

“You’re saying that I would be...your first, too?" The question hangs in the charged air between you, practically trembling with scarcely contained emotion. Wonder colors Xavier’s tone, and he can’t help but feel that maybe this is the universe's way of making up for all the years of unrequited yearning and pain he’s suffered.

A hushed noise, desperate and needy, spills from Xavier as his mouth descends onto yours, swallowing down the breathy confirmation spilling from your lips. It's an intoxicating melody that drives him wild, a song he wants to hear over and over again.

Slowly, deliberately, his fingers continue their sinful torment, a tantalizing dance that's only purpose is to have you writhing and moaning beneath him as he catalogs each quiver, every cute little sound..

They trace maddeningly slow paths over your skin, turning your soft whimpers into full-fledged gasps of pleasure. The longer he does this, the louder you get, the more it fuels his confidence, his satisfaction.

Two long fingers steal through your slick folds and begin making lazy circles around your throbbing clit, the sensation sending shudders rippling through you.

His thumb slides down to your entrance, circling and teasing. Then suddenly it thrusts inside, followed by a second finger, penetrating you deeply in a slow and torturous rhythm, testing your readiness. “Oh god..." he groans against your lips, feeling you spasm around him.

“So fucking tight…" With his thumb still hooked inside you, he presses upwards to massage your g-spot while his fingers fill you up perfectly.

Your back arches off the plush carpet, head thrown back in ecstasy. Electric pleasure courses through every nerve ending, building to a crescendo with each perfect stroke.

"Yes, oh god yes!" you keen breathlessly, hips rolling wildly to meet his thrusts. The obscene squelch of your arousal fills the room as he works you skillfully towards your peak like he’s prepared for this moment his entire life. Every nerve ending is alight with blissful fire, muscles starting to quake and tighten.

Through half-lidded eyes glazed over with lust, you watch him work, drinking in the sight of this magnificent man coming undone for you. Sweat gleams on his brow, muscles straining as he holds himself back from simply fucking you into the ground.

On his own lust-fueled cloud, Xavier feels the tight, squeezing pull around his fingers, an unmistakable sign that you're giving in to the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you.

“I can—I can feel it. Oh god, angel, you're—" The breath gets knocked out of him as pleasure sweeps over him, clouding his vision, fogging his thoughts as his cock pulsates, spilling hot seed between his thighs, filling up his boxers and soaking through his pajama pants.

The sight of him coming undone is just too much, your world shattering into a million tiny pieces. Throwing your head back with a silent scream, your pussy clamps down HARD on his pistoning fingers, fluttering wildly as wave after wave of mind-melting ecstasy consumes you. Clear fluid gushes out, soaking his hand and your inner thighs, trickling down to the rug beneath you.

The intensity of your climax, coupled with his talented fingers milking every last throbbing pulse of pleasure from you, leaves you drained and sobbing, the absolute sweetest sort of broken. Panting heavily, limbs jelly-like, you collapse back onto the carpet with a shuddering sigh.

His eyes catch yours again as you peek up at him sheepishly, mumbling an embarrassed apology, and immediately that trademark smile lights up his face. And the look in his eyes? Pure male pride and delight at the mess he's reduced you to, a satisfied grin curving his full lips as he shakes his head.

“Don't you dare apologize," Xavier murmurs firmly. "Never apologize for being perfect."

And then he does something that blows your mind even more, if that's even possible. Ever-so-slowly, he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, parting his lips, letting you see the tip of his tongue snake out, tasting what belongs to him. His moan echoes yours.

Then he’s leaning in, tongue lapping at your messy slit with unrestrained hunger. He groans at the taste, relishing the evidence of your pleasure like the finest wine. Strong hands grasp your hips, holding you steady as he eats you like a starving man, determined not to waste a single drop.

All thoughts of embarrassment scatter entirely as new tingles of arousal bloom under his relentless ministrations. The wet glide of his tongue drags along your sensitive folds, delving deep to lap at your clenching hole.

“Do it again," Xavier all but growls against your pussy, the vibrations stoking the growing flames. "Wanna taste it straight from the source this time."

He seals his lips around your throbbing clit and sucks HARD, two thick fingers plunging back into your sopping cunt.

Squealing in shock and ecstasy, your second climax crashes over you mere moments after the first. Back arching nearly painfully, you fist your hands in his hair, grinding yourself wildly against his hungry mouth.

Xavier is like a man possessed… greedy noises rumbling in his chest as he laps up your newest flood. The obscene slurping sounds fill the room, punctuated by your keening cries. He seems determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from your shaking form.

Before you've even started to come down, he's already working you towards another peak. Fingers pump in and out rapidly, thumb curling just right to hit that magic spot inside you with every thrust. His tongue swirls and flicks mercilessly over your sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between kittenish licks and powerful sucks.

"Too...much...oh god!" you babble incoherently, overwhelmed by the sheer onslaught of sensation. Drool leaks from the corner of your slack mouth as your brain short circuits from overstimulation. The pleasure is edged with a hint of pain, pushing you to your limits.

But he still just won’t stop… growing bolder, more demanding. Groaning into your pussy, he adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously. Barely registering his husky murmur of “need… to get you ready for me... Just a little more, I promise," cuts through the haze of blinding pleasure clouding your mind, and you can only whimper and moan helplessly. Your body is no longer your own, entirely at the mercy of Xavier's wicked mouth and fingers…

And gods, he plays you like perfectly, a willing instrument in his hands, coaxing out ecstasy with seemingly endless stamina. Sweat glistens on his brow, muscles flexing beautifully as he worships your quivering sex with single-minded focus.

“It’s just… you taste so good…" Xavier groans appreciatively, briefly releasing your swollen clit briefly. “Could feast on this pretty pussy for hours…” To punctuate his statement, he dives back in, lapping and suckling like a starving man.

His tongue delves deeper, spearing into your fluttering channel, fucking you open with filthy slurps. Then his fingers are slipping back in, pumping faster, harder, stretching you exquisitely as they curl over that magic bundle of nerves.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!" you keen wildly, much too far gone to care about volume or composure. The coil in your belly winds tighter, tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Xavier still can't quite believe what's happening, his fingers buried deep in your slick heat as his lips and tongue continue their torturous assault. His name echoes around the room as a chant in response to his efforts, music he plans to listen to every goddamn night if he has anything to say about it.

He's aware that you're close again, cries and whimpers ripped from your throat like a desperate plea for salvation. And so he begins his final crescendo, pulling out all the stops for your finale. His tongue performs lazy, teasing circles around your throbbing clit while his fingers piston in and out in tandem with his lips.

A particularly sharp nip catapults you over the edge into sheer ecstasy. Pleasure, pure and molten, sears through every nerve ending, your back bowing sharply off the floor as you come undone again with a ragged cry of his name.

With a triumphant groan of his own, Xavier follows suit, hips jerking erratically as he spills hot and heavy into his clothing.

As the waves of euphoria gradually ebb, leaving you limp and twitching in the aftermath, you sense rather than see him sit back on his haunches. His breathing is harsh and labored in the charged air between you. When you finally do manage to focus on his face, his expression makes your heart flutter—adoration mingled with possessive hunger, like a wolf eyeing its prey.

"I...we should probably..." he starts quietly, voice hoarse with exertion and residual need. "Maybe we should stop here tonight…” But even as he says it, there's clear reluctance underlying the words, his hands twitching with the urge to touch you further.

Blinking up at him dazedly, eyelids drooping from post-orgasmic bliss, you slowly shake your head in soft disagreement. The tenderness of his voice, that note of reluctance as he suggests stopping purely for your wellbeing, only makes you want him more.

Smirking softly, your body humming with contentment, you move to straddle his lap. Ruffling fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, your gaze softens as you take in his features. Cheeks flushed from pleasure and exertion, pupils dilated to near-black pools in a way that sets all your nerves alight… His lips are red and slightly parted, panting softly in the otherwise quiet room.

“I know you want more, Xavier…” you whisper playfully, half-teasing, but also completely sincere. "I can see it written all over your face.” One hand caresses down his jaw to his neck, urging him closer until you can claim his lips in a languid kiss.

Your fingertips trace delicate patterns along the strong column of his throat, savoring the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath the pads of your fingers. Breaking the kiss with a soft nip to his bottom lip, you pull back just enough to meet his smoldering gaze head-on, a mischievous glint dancing in your own.

“I know I want more,” you breathe out, the words sending shivers racing down your spine as you say them aloud. "I want to feel every thick inch of you inside me, filling me up until I'm stuffed full and aching from it…”

To emphasize your point, you roll your hips, grinding your slick folds along the prominent bulge tenting the front of his pajama pants. The fabric is already damp with his release, providing delicious friction against your sensitive flesh.

“And you're still so hard for me already," you purr approvingly, circling your hips in languid figure-eights. "Like your body knows exactly what it needs...what we need.”

Freeing his impressive length, you watch with hooded eyes as it springs forth, long and thick and so deliciously messy. A thrill of anticipation shoots through you at the sight, your inner walls clenching hungrily around nothing.

“I mean, we both knew that wasn't going to be enough, didn't we?" you murmur playfully, giving him a firm squeeze before sliding down his body and settling between his spread thighs.

“Not when we have all these pent-up desires finally coming to a head," you continue breathlessly, placing feather-light kisses along his length as you speak.

“And not when being with you is all I can even think about anymore…”

Peering up at him through lowered lashes, you maintain unwavering eye contact as you extend your tongue, circling it around the swollen head and flicking over the weeping slit teasingly. Your free hand splays out, mapping the chiseled planes of his abdomen, feeling the muscles jump and flex beneath your palm.

“And you taste so good, Xavier…” you murmur with a pout, “you won't make me stop, will you?"

“No, of course I won't make you stop…" Xavier rasps, large hands coming to rest on either side of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, not pushing or pulling, but resting there like a promise and a plea all at once.

“Not now, not ever," he promises, voice rough with barely restrained need. His cock twitches insistently against your cheek, begging for attention.

Emboldened by his desperate pleas, you part your lips and take him into the wet heat of your mouth inch by delicious inch. Your tongue swirls around his thick shaft as you sink lower, lips stretching obscenely around his considerable girth as you swallow him down. "Mmmph!" A muffled moan vibrates around his shaft as you begin to work him over with enthusiastic bobs and slurps.

“Fuck yeah… just like that sweet girl, take it all for me," Tears start streaming freely down your face as Xavier suddenly snaps over the feeling of your hot mouth on his cock and takes complete control, roughly fucking your throat with powerful thrusts of his hips. Drool escapes the seal of your stretched lips, dribbling messily down your chin to splatter on your bouncing breasts. The obscene sounds of his flesh slapping against yours fill the room, punctuated by your choked gasps and gurgles and Xavier’s own guttural groans of pleasure.

“Such a good girl, taking me so pretty on your knees like this,” he grunts, his fingers digging painfully into your scalp now as he uses you like his own personal doll, making you swallow his length over and over until you nearly choke on it.

Despite the intensity and roughness, there's a deep satisfaction burning within you at having such a powerful effect on him. His loss of control, the primal desperation in his touches and thrusts, it's like a drug—intoxicating and addictive.

With a final few forceful thrusts, Xavier reaches his breaking point. His body tenses, muscles locked as his balls draw up tight, fingers digging hard into your scalp as the first jet of his cum spurts into the back of your throat, hitting the reflex point that has you coughing and gagging. But he doesn't stop fucking your mouth, driving himself home again and again until he's milked himself dry.

Then, falling limp on the plush rug, completely spent and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, he pants loudly, his cock twitching against his stomach.

Raising himself up on an elbow, he gazes down at you with the softest expression. One hand reaches out to gently caress your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as he speaks, voice barely a murmur and laden with emotion. "I… I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks it like it's the most important question in the world, his anguish like a palpable thing in the air.

Drained and panting heavily, you take a moment to compose yourself before crawling languidly up the length of Xavier's trembling form. Straddling his hips, you grind your dripping core along his rapidly stiffening shaft, coating him in your slick arousal. “Never,” you breathe as you gaze into his eyes, pupils blown wide with renewed lust and emotion shining bright.

As you position yourself over Xavier, grasping his shaft and rubbing the broad head teasingly along your soaked slit, his hands come to rest on your hips, stilling your movements. "Wait, let me... " he says softly, blue eyes dark with affection and desire as he looks up at you.

In one smooth motion, he lifts you effortlessly, positioning you just above where he needs you most. Slowly, reverently, he begins to guide you downwards, the flared tip of his cock parting your dripping folds as he lowers you inch by excruciating inch. “That's it, just like that, angel. go slow... let me feel every bit of you taking me in," Xavier coaxes, voice low and heated as he watches your face intently, committing every fleeting expression of bliss to memory.

Halfway in, he bottoms out, his cock knocking right up against your cervix. For a few seconds, he simply stays still, his hands cradling your hips and his head falling back onto the floor with a soft sigh. Then he begins to move. Rocking your hips gently in sync with his so that each slow withdrawal drags a gasping moan from your lips, and each deep reentry has you throwing your head back with a sweet sob of pure rapture.

Lost in a haze of sensation, Xavier can’t even breathe as he revels in the exquisite feeling of your slick, velvety walls gripping him so tightly he can barely think past the pleasure.

Picking up the pace slightly, he rolls his hips, grinding against you as he pulls you down to meet each upward thrust. "So perfect," he groans brokenly, "taking me so well, like you were always meant to be filled by me." The dirty talk spills from his lips unbidden, his usual restraint shattered by the mind-melting pleasure of finally claiming you.

Soft, breathless praises fall from your kiss-swollen lips. "Mhmm, so good," you gasp out, tilting your hips to take him impossibly deeper. "So big, so hard inside me... stretching me so perfectly."

Moaning shamelessly, you drape yourself over his chest, peppering fervent kisses across his neck and jaw. "Made for me," you echo, nipping at his earlobe before sucking it between your teeth.

Your back arches off the floor as Xavier suddenly flips your positions, looming over you with a predatory gleam in his eye. "Yep, all for you," he agrees breathlessly. Gripping your thighs, he pushes your knees toward your shoulders, spreading you open completely and slipping back inside you with a sharp snap of his hips.

"Oh f-fuck yes!" you cry out, the new angle allowing him to hit impossibly deeper, stoking the inferno building low in your belly.

Xavier sets a relentless pace now, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he pounds into you. Each thrust rocks your entire body, breasts bouncing with the force. Panting harshly, he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, greedily swallowing your desperate mewls.

Breaking away, he peppers hot kisses along your jaw before nuzzling into your neck, inhaling your scent. “Say it," he whispers against your skin, hips never faltering in their merciless rhythm. “Tell me who you were made for… tell me… that you’re mine." Fingers wrap loosely around your throat as he gazes down at you, blue eyes blazing with need, silently begging for your affirmation.

Although each pounding thrust steals your breath away, you force your lips open and moan out the words that he so desperately needs to hear. "Yours, Xavier," you gasp out, "Only yours... Now and forever.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you arch up to meet him as he pistons into you. The slight pressure he applies on your throat sends an electrifying bolt of lust through your system, forcing a strangled moan from your lips.

"You're so hard... S-so deep inside me…" you whimper, your voice music to Xavier’s ears as it echoes around the room.

“Mine,” he whispers against your throat, punctuating the word with a sharp nip to your pulse point. His hips stutter, losing some of their rhythm as he nears the edge. "A-angel, I'm not... Gonna last..."

The words tumble from your lips in a breathless, urgent tumult. "Xavier, please..." your voice trembles on the edge of a sob. "Come inside me, please, please... I need it…”

At the sound of your needy, wanton pleas, something in Xavier snaps. With a hoarse shout of your name, he hilts himself fully inside you and stills, every muscle locked in place. Hot spurts of his release paint your inner walls as he pulses and throbs, pumping what feels like endless streams of his cum deep into your spasming cunt.

And with one final grunt, Xavier gives you the final shove you need, setting off a ripple effect that carries through your system, dragging you under with its force. You writhe beneath him, riding out the tide of ecstasy as he continues thrusting, almost brutally hard. "So good…" he grunts, eyes blissed out and unfocused as he takes your body in reckless abandon.

Just when you're sure you've rung every last drop of satisfaction from him, he’s flipping you onto your stomach, spreading your knees wide as he reinserts his half-hard cock, resuming right where he left off.

“I need more," he murmurs, hands grasping the firm globes of your ass, spreading them deliciously wide as he drags the velvet head along your slick, puffy folds before slamming home again.

“Oh… oh god, Xav-" your protest cuts off into a keening cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, his sudden aggression and dominance shocking and thrilling in equal measure. He seems insatiable… still so hard even after coming so many times, the wet squelch of his cock churning up his own release filling the air obscenely.

As another climax swiftly builds, you bury your face in the plush rug, whimpering and mewling shamelessly into the fibers. The dichotomy between his outward gentleness and the barely restrained beast within is borderline frightening in the best possible way.

A fresh surge of heat floods Xavier's chest as you arch against him, demanding he fucks you harder. His hips pull back until only the thick head of his cock remains nestled against your sopping cunt, before slamming home over and over again, the *thwump* of his pelvis smacking against the lush curves of your ass. The impact has ripples spreading outward, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower back to quiver as you come again.

But as the last of your tremors fade away, Xavier still refuses to let up for a single moment, instead driving into you harder, faster. One hand tangles in your hair, pulling back until your entire body is arched impossibly, offering yourself completely to his ravaging thrusts. The other snakes around to roughly palm your breast, thumb pinching and swirling the sensitive bud in an echo of the way his cock fucks into you.

"P-please," you whine brokenly, pushing your hips back even more to meet his increasingly erratic thrusts. Your brain feels fuzzy, overloaded with sensation as he wrenches your body into a bow, presenting yourself to him so wantonly. "I n-need... More..."

Drool leaks from the corner of your slack mouth as he uses you ruthlessly, his movements growing clumsier and more desperate by the second. Panting heavily, sweat-dampened strands of silver hair clinging to his forehead, Xavier keeps that same relentless pace as he pounds into you from behind with a reckless abandon that only hints at the barely restrained desire eating him alive from the inside.

His blunt nails dig crescent shapes into the soft plush of your ass as he spreads you wider, allowing him to sink impossibly deeper. Leaning over your arched back, he brings his lips close to your ear, hot breath ghosting over the shell as he breathes out, "Didn't think... I had this in me... but the way you look... sprawled out... taking everything I give you..."

He punctuates his words with a low groan, sharply biting down on the junction of your shoulder and neck. "Mine..." The word slurs slightly, breath fanning your cheek in warm gusts. “Only mine... ruin you for anyone else... won't ever crave another's touch... just... just mine..." He promises in a heady mixture of boyish excitement, desperate adoration and dark satisfaction.

As dawn breaks, painting the sky in brilliant streaks of orange and pink, Xavier finally relents, pulling out of your thoroughly used hole with a wet pop. He scoops you up into his strong arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the car, pausing occasionally to pepper your face with tender kisses. Once home, the moment your apartment door closes behind you, he pins you face-down against the kitchen counter, kicking your legs apart impatiently.

“Can’t wait another second," he murmurs, grinding his stiffening length between your ass cheeks. "Need to... fill you up 'til it takes." Strong hands yank your pants down, baring your dripping folds to the cool air. Then he's pushing inside you again, stretching you open around his thick girth. "Missed this already... missed the feeling of you squeezing me..."

He continues his ruthless rhythm, kneading the tense muscles in your back with eager hands as his hips meet your pliant form with unrestrained aggression. One particularly forceful pump pushes you up onto the tips of your toes, eliciting a throaty cry from your parted lips. “So pretty like this... marked up... covered in my cum…”

All day and night, Xavier ravages your body with a seemingly insatiable hunger, bending and folding you in every imaginable way. On the bed, on the couch, even pressed up against the shower wall as steam fills the room, his hard cock never stops moving within you. Whenever you feel yourself starting to go limp with exhaustion, he seems to find a fresh surge of energy, determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your spent form.

As the second day bleeds into a third, with your body aching deliciously and your thighs painted with his copious releases, he finally succumbs to sheer physical depletion. Still nestled deep inside your fluttering walls, he collapses sideways, pulling you flush against his sweat-slicked chest. Mumbling incoherently into your hair, he manages to get out a drowsy "love you,” the words slurred and heavy with spent passion and emotion.

Curling protectively around your smaller form, he nuzzles into the nape of your neck, seeking your comforting scent and warmth. His breathing evens out, drifting into a deep, sated slumber, the steady thump of his heartbeat lulling you into peaceful rest within the shelter of his embrace.

#lads #love and deepspace #lads xavier #xavier x reader #xavier lads #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lads smut #lads x reader #xavier smut #love and deepspace smut

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spectralreplica · 2 months ago

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It's the (past couple) year(s) of the magical girl!!!!! So happy that we've gotten so many new magical girl properties that aren't just remakes, Madoka-likes, and Precure (DISCLAIMER: I love most of those too!!! I just crave variety...)

Just me talking about these series under the cut:

I LOVE Magilumiere's framing of magical girls as a profession including the nitty gritty details of job searching and corporate events. I buy all the manga volumes as they come out and can't wait for season 2! (Manga spoilers: the OG Magilumi uniform is cute, but I LOVE the V2!!!)

Acro Trip is very endearing and the VAs give 110% even though the actual animation is a little limited... I'd love season 2, but I very much doubt it'll happen... I'll probably pick up the untranslated manga since it's only 5 vols.

Magical Girl Dandelion is SO PRETTY!!!! Love the dynamic of Tanpopo and Shade, esp. since I think the author confirmed it will NOT be romantic? Always interested to see more non-romance-centric shojo. The horror vibe is fun! Love when mg stuff can get a little dark without going full edgelord and losing the soul of the original concept of the genre... Waiting to see if there'll be a physical release since it's about at a volume's length now.

Princession Orchestra looks cool so far, although I have no idea what kind of tone they'll shoot for. There's kids toys, so maybe more Precure than Symphogear, but who knows? I was wondering how the unique shading style of the promo art would be translated to the actual show, and it turns out the answer is..... it's not!!! The actual designs (still very sharp imo!) are just kind of a normal anime style.

And finally, Pretty Pretty Please I Don’t Want to be a Magical Girl by @kianamaiart! The concept of using magical girlhood to look at burnout and the pressure to keep at something due to "talent" is interesting to me. Maybe a little bit of a Shattered Starlight vibe?? Anyway. The artstyle is REALLY cute, and even just from what's been posted so far I love the character dynamics! Looking forward to the pilot and whatever may come after!

#Kana Sakuragi #Magilumiere Co. Ltd.#Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc.#Princession Orchestra #Princess Ripple #Minamo Sorano #I Don't Want to Be a Magical Girl #Aika Star Guardian #Acro Trip #Berry Blossom #Kaju Noichigo #Magical Girl Dandelion #Tanpopo Ohanami #Shade MGD #Spectra Art #Spectra Port

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kenjisatos · 9 months ago

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MSBY BLACK JACKALS READ THIRST TWEETS ! (ATSUMU EDITION)

second part of this series! i love to see more of this team <3

[sakusa version]

this fic features…

haikyuu timeskip!spoilers, highly suggestive content (as the title entails), inappropriate language, atsumu keeps getting violated by his teammates, i headcanon sakusa to be fluent in english (argue with the wall), genre: crack, some of these are actual tweets i found lol.

The videos begins with multiple flash shots of Atsumu screaming, Hinata and Bokuto bursting into laughter, and a clip of the camera zooming in on Sakusa’s disgusted face.

- cut scene -

“Hi, we’re the MSBY Black Jackals, and we’re here with Buzzfeed to read your thirst tweets.” The 4 of them say together.

Hinata drums on his chair, “Miyaaaaa Atsumuuuu edition!”

Atsumu smirks at the camera, “I know you’ve all been waiting for this.”

The cameraman speaks up, “Are you excited?”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically, “Hell yeah! I can take this like a champ, unlike Omi-Omi…”. He side eyes the outside hitter, who, in return, flips off the setter—but the video pixelates it for censorship.

Bokuto snorts, “That’s what she said…”

Atsumu chuckles and claps his hands together. “Let’s get started!”

- cut scene -

The crew tosses a phone to Atsumu. He catches it and clears his throat. “Alright, first one…”

“How can I transform into one of those cameras used for volleyball games? Oh to get that view of Miya Atsumu’s dick all up in front of me when he does his sexy low set.”

Atsumu chuckles, “I can practically see you drooling from here, user.”

Hinata wiggles his eyebrows and pretends to hit a spike, “It is a sexy set, Miya.”

Bokuto fakes an animalistic growling noise, “When you get down low and—“

“Oh please, why are we praising Miya for flashing the camera?” Sakusa cuts in.

Atsumu huffs, “I’m not flashing them on purpose!” He then turns to the camera and winks, “Unless you want me to…”

“Barf.”

“Shut yer trap, Omi-Omi!”

Hinata snickers, “Miya, your accent is slipping in…”

His voice is high pitched and whiny as he replies, “No, it’s n—!”, he clears his throat, his voice now two octaves deeper, “No, it’s not.”

Bokuto chuckles, slapping the setter on the back. Atsumu simply passes the phone to him to read the next tweet.

“Funny how I want to throw hands at Inarizaki Miya Atsumu, but at the same time, I want to throw my panties off for MSBY Miya Atsumu.”

Sakusa laughs, actually laughs, for the first time since they started the shoot. His rowdy companions slowly turn to him, eyes blown wide at the rare sight of their stoic teammate showing an ounce of amusement.

Sakusa’s laugh trails off, “Yeah…you were a piece of shit in high school.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were. Still are.”

Hinata tries to reassure the blond, “Don’t worry, Miya, I thought you were cool.”

Bokuto quips, “Hinata, I thought you couldn’t tell the difference between him and Osamu.”

Hinata’s eyes widen and Atsumu glares at the orange-head, “Seriously, Shoyo?”

Hinata waves his hands dismissively, “I-I-I…”

Atsumu sighs, “You guys keep distracting me! I’m supposed to be replying to these thirst tweets.”

Bokuto holds a hand to his heart, “We are sorry, your highness.”

Atsumu looks at the camera and smirks, “Keep your panties on, ladies. I like to do it with them on.”

Sakusa stares at Atsumu in disgust, the beginning scene of the video making its’ debut as the cameraman zooms in on Sakusa’s revolted expression.

“How do you do it with it on?” Bokuto thinks out loud.

Hinata responds, “I think he means it’s pulled to the side?”

Bokuto’s mouth turns into an animated ‘o’ shape, “Ohhh, or or or he—“

Their pr manager coughs loudly off screen. Sakusa gives their manager a grateful look, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

The other three pout as their conversation is cut short. Bokuto hands the phone to Hinata; he squints his eyes at the screen as he tries to make out the words. He begins to read:

“Have y’all seen Miya Atsumu? If that dick slap his thigh when he walk, I shall listen when he talk.”

Hinata laughs but continues, “The Twitter user reposted themselves saying ‘Sheesh.’ with 18 fucking android emojis.”

Bokuto leans closer to Hinata, “Ooh! Lemme see, lemme see.”

Atsumu grins smugly with his eyes closed in satisfaction, his hand coming up to run through his platinum hair.

Sakusa speaks up, “Stop posing for the edits.”

Atsumu seems to ignore Sakusa’s comment as he faces the camera. “Well in that case, I guess you’ll all be listening to me.”

Hinata snorts, “Proof?”

Bokuto guffaws while Hinata holds his laughter in behind a cheeky smile.

Atsumu’s cheeks flush red at his words, “I ain’t showing you nothin’!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, “Trust me, we’ve seen enough in the locker room.”

Bokuto hides behind Atsumu and holds his hands up a certain distance to insinuate the length of Atsumu’s…commodity.

Atsumu continues, practically flirting with the camera, “But trust me y’all, it does, indeed, slap.”

Hinata leans his elbow over Atsumu’s shoulder, “Yeah and so does he!”

The sound effect of a turntable skidding plays.

Atsumu flinches away from Hinata, “WHAT???”

Their pr manager stands up quickly from their seat, a horrified expression on their face; the threat of losing their job rushing in their head.

Bokuto is holding a hand over his mouth, the Buzzfeed crew members are exchanging nervous looks, even Sakusa has his eyes wide open.

Hinata realizes his mistake and freezes for a moment before he’s jumping and scuttling around in a panic.

“I-I-I MEAN HE SLAPS—NO, NOT LIKE SLAPS, LIKE SLAPS LIKE SLANG ‘YEAH THAT SHIT SLAPS’ KIND OF SLAP. NOT PHYSICAL ABUSE SLAP I—”, he exhales sharply, “I’M GONNA STOP TALKING NOW!!”

Sakusa snorts and covers his face with his hands, Bokuto has tears in his eyes from how hard he’s holding in his laughter, the MSBY pr manager sits back down, their pale face slowly regaining its color. Atsumu is left with what can only be described as a sea-sick expression, almost constipated. After a few seconds, he remembers how to speak and says:

“Shoyo…what the fuck.”

“I’M SORRY!”

Sakusa opens his palm up, he’s biting his lip to not let a chuckle escape. “Give me the phone, Hinata.”

Hinata wordlessly hands the phone over as Bokuto giggles and places both his hands on Hinata’s shoulders and jumps in place to brighten up the mood.

Atsumu finally laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Almost caught myself a scandal there.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Sakusa mutters as he scrolls to the next tweet he has to read.

“Miya is so fucking hot, I want that man to turn my legs into jello.”

Atsumu grins, “Well well well—“

Sakusa continues reading the tweet, “I’m talking about Miya Osamu btw, aka the better twin.”

Atsumu opens his eyes, “Huh??”

Sakusa snickers, “Finally a tweet I agree with.”

Bokuto raises his hand to cup around his lips and whispers to Hinata, “Here come the SakuSamu shippers…”

Hinata whispers back, “I thought they were called Omigiris…”

The camera crew turns to a very confused Atsumu, “We thought it would be funny to add an Osamu tweet” one of them says.

Atsumu scowls like a petulant child.

Hinata perks up, “Osamu is pretty sexy, ey? In his Onigiri Miya compression shirt too…”

Bokuto nods in agreement, “And that cap? Smash.”

Atsumu whines, “Guyssss, this is supposed to be about meeee!”

“Womp womp.”

“Omiii :(“

Sakusa gives the phone back to Atsumu, who pouts and sticks his tongue out before he grumbles, “Y’all love to bully me, huh? And here I thought we would have deep team bonding conversations.”

Sakusa quirks an eyebrow up, “…at a thirst tweets shoot?”

“It’s personal and vulnerable,” Hinata replies.

“The only vulnerable thing at risk here is my wellbeing,” Sakusa retorts.

Atsumu sighs as he grabs the phone from Sakusa. “I hope the next tweet makes me feel better…”, he mutters.

“I just know that if Miya Atsumu called me a real good boy, it would awaken something in me.”

Bokuto starts barking at that, “Yeah, it awakens that inner dog in me.”

“We are the Black Jackals.” Sakusa comments, matter-a-factly.

“Are they talking about that time you and Kageyama were at that youth camp?” Hinata asks.

Atsumu nods, “I believe so.”

“Then how do they know you said that…?”

Sakusa responds amusedly, “Knowing Tobio, he probably tweeted about it. That man hates Miya.”

Atsumu defends himself, “Hey now, hate is a strong word. Tobio-kun is just jealous that I’m Shoyo’s setter.”

Bokuto, once again, leans in closer to Hinata to whisper, “Here come the KageHina and AtsuHina shippers…”

Atsumu stares right at the camera with a smoldering expression, “User, you’re being a real good boy…”

Bokuto barks again. The video adds a sound effect that makes it sound like a chorus of Bokutos are barking all around.

Atsumu laughs and passes the phone to Bokuto.

“Someone on here said the English equivalent to Miya Atsumu’s Kansai dialect is a country accent. Well then, call me a cowboy the way I’d be riding that man till the break of dawn. #SaveAHorseRideACowboy”

The video adds a cowboy hat and lasso to Atsumu, who pretends to be on a horse. His voice is much deeper as he says, “Yeehaw~”

“Oooh we have international fans!” Hinata speaks excitedly.

Bokuto’s eyes light up at Hinata’s comment, “Oooh, Omi-kun, say something to them!”

Sakusa squints his eyes and raises an eyebrow, “What do you want me to say?”

Atsumu jumps in, “Tell them I’d be happy to let them have a go at this rodeo ride.” He clicks his tongue with a wink.

Sakusa sighs then looks directly at the camera, and says the following in perfect English: “I hope your taste in men improves from what it is now. My condolences.”

Atsumu smiles, completely oblivious to the insult. “Thanks, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa smiles, an evil little smile. “My pleasure.”

- cut scene -

Atsumu tosses the phone back to the crew, “And that was it! I thoroughly enjoyed the ego boost, minus the parts when the team bullied me.”

“You were a good sport, Miya.” Hinata tells him.

“Thanks, Shoyo. And you’re a horrible speaker.”

Hinata’s face burns scarlet again at the reminder of his misfortunate wording earlier.

“2 out of 4 completed!”, Bokuto exclaims.

“Yes, we’re so close to being done.” Sakusa says, though he looks way too happy and relieved.

“More coming your way!” Hinata adds.

“Stay tuned~” Atsumu points at the camera.

“We’re the MSBY Black Jackals, goodbye!”

kenjisatos

🏷️ @dervngedgf

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aniseandspearmint · 1 year ago

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THE GIGGLE SPOILERS

okay okay so, there is a Doctor just chilling on earth for the next however long, taking quick jaunts occasionally, but LIVING linear time and everything.

There is an entire regular meeting support group for companions of The Doctor.

That Donna is definitely going to be invited to, right?

Does Donna open with, "Hi my name is Donna Noble and The Doctor is currently living with me 'cause he finally burnt out after a few million years and needed a break. He's recovered enough to be gettin' antsy and a nice local trip or two to see old friends would do him good! Anyone object to me binging him along next week?"

The big question is, would it be rude for 14 to show up?

On the one hand, this is technically a support group for people to talk about their adventures WITH him, in a safe space and all that.

I can't imagine he'd be unwelcome, but would it be too awkward????

OH WAIT NO HILARIOUS THOUGHT.

Donna attends the companion support group.

Donna talks about The Doctor in the present tense a bit, but in such a way that the rest of the group think he's an elderly working dog she's adopted and is rehabbing.

That she named The Doctor because of fond memories with her own Doctor.

And it's just SO clear she's talking about an elderly pet. The tone, the stories....

"Rose has been real helpful gettin' him to be more active. She'll chase him around the yard for a few laps, tossing a ball around!"

"Granddad's been trying to get him to go out and shoot moles with him, but The Doctor doesn't like guns much, you know."

"He's been driving my mum up the wall, sniffin' around the kitchen every time she's cooking. Course, he does it to everyone but mum's nearly stepped on him a few times!"

"My daughter makes lovely stuffed animals *shows pics on her phone*, The Doctor loves them! We find him napping in the yard with one as a pillow all the time. She sells them by the way. Her etsy shop is-"

And then one meeting she's like, "Oh, would you lot mind if I brought the Doctor next week? He's feeling better, I think it'd be nice if he got out of the house for a bit?"

And of course everyone is like, 'oh sure' 'yeah' 'alright' 'no problem'.

And then next week rolls around and-

That is an ENTIRE fully bipedal Gallifreyan Doctor. Huh.

#doctor who #14th doctor #donna noble #fic ideas

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b-lossm · 4 months ago

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Change (In the house of flies)

poly! caitvi+reader angst [but its all cait for this part]

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 EP 3

Pt.2

You hear your front door open, Its been about a week since you've seen your girlfriends and you're worried. They went on this 'big mission' that warented goodbye sex,,, so yeah, you where scared.

"Cait? Vi?" you see Caitlyn first, hair messy and clothes bloodied, you almost start to cry and you rush to hug her but she just pushes you off "Stop" she sounds heartless "what happened Cait?" you ask, desperately trying to find out if Vi was alive or not "She stopped me" "Stopped you from what?" you ask shakily "Killing Jinx, there was this stupid child in the way an--" you cut her off "A child?" you ask, trying to get a read of any emotion that isn't just anger, "Yes! why do I have to repeat myself? God you don't get it, I had to kill her, for my mom, so what if I could've killed the kid?" she snaps, you pause and stop worrying about her.

You and Vi grew up together in the undercity, dating all those years ago but when she got put in prison you assumed she got killed by enforcers, everyone did. So when she finally finds you after hunting you down you cry, you thought she was gone, you told the firelight children stories of her, but there she was,, hugging you and kissing all over your face. Imagine the surprise on your face when she told you that an enforcer took her away for no reason that night, of course an enforcer would do that, they killed her parents--killed yours, twice, why not put some kid in jail?

That brings you back to now, a blank but still surprised look on your face "what did you say?" you ask breathlessly, backing up from her tall figure "Oh come on y/n you know I wouldn't have missed" she hisses at you, throwing her shotgun on the floor "God.. who are you..?" you ask in disbelief, your sweet, funny Caitlyn? no, Whatever that is isn't her, that isn't the same girl who gave you the money to have your own apartment in Piltover because the trip to her house was too far from Zaun, this isn't the Caitlyn who bashfully confessed at the same time as vi, this isn't the same Caitlyn who cuddled you and Vi to sleep, this just isn't her. You back up once more "Where's Vi?" you ask shakily, praying she didn't shoot her "She got in my way" she said coldly, her eyes boring into yours "Caitlyn what does that mean--" she cuts you off "Hopefully where I left her" what..?

"Cait what the fuck does that mean" you ask, praying to Janna she didn't mean what you thought she meant while putting on a coat and grabbing your gun, she sighs "At the bottom of some windpipe thing, she was crying, where are you going?" oh so she cares about another person,, "I'm gonna find her Cait! Why the fuck would you leave her there?" you ask angrily, grabbing your mask "Because she stopped me." she says coldly "I have matters to attend to I must leave" "What do you mean you must leave Cait?? What about Vi, What about us??" you yell at her, first time for everything you guess. She sighs, taking a disappointed breath into her hand as she picks up her shotgun "You don't understand what those animals did, I'm leaving--" "If you leave I do, stay Cait please, come with me to find Vi" you beg, you don't even know where they went, you where lost, just like when Benzo found you.

"Then I guess your gone" She says coldly without a word, silently leaving and heading to her home.

"w--wait Cait please come back-- Caitlyn!" you run after her, you catch up and try to gently grip her wrist "Please Cait just--" she hits you in the gut with the back of her gun, unbeknownst to you after having done the same to Vi, you sob and collapse while holding your side as she walks away without a word.

fuck.

'i understand now' you think while she walks away, you get up and head straight to Zaun, still holding your aching liver. You couldn't just let Vi stay there--wherever she was all by herself, not again, you couldn't bare the thought of her being in a tiny cage, cold and alone again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Twas the night before Pitfighter! Vi...

part two after pitfighter vi bcs I #needthat part three will follow the ending of arcane (if they get back tg or not)

#b lossm #arcane x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman angst #arcane angst #wlw #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #arcane season 2

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l3monlem0n · 1 year ago

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Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>

SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering

Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun

She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband

As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)

Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already

Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke

OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier

"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months

Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode

Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol

Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper

You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...

...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)

Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever

friggin bug (very pos)

You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):

NOT judge her

Forced prom date (?)

Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery

The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast

This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof

We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot

There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?

We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk

Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded

Just N being a good boy :3

The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image

Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)

I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is

Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)

I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage

Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun

This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...

...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)

(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)

Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole

Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight

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mirixmoya · 4 days ago

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my initial first-read thoughts for SOTR PART III: THE POSTER there will be MAJOR SPOILERS under the cut but pls enjoy :)

chapter 19;

haymitch thinking poorly about himself makes me so sad i can't believe he's gonna do that for the next 25 years

"will she be haunted by me for the rest of her life?" other way around actually!

haymitch tryna smart ass his way out of panache killing him... this man never never changes does he

chapter 20;

"i've killed someone. two someones. brutally. it was self-defense, so question, but i know i can never go back to five minutes ago." he's so young he's so sweet i could cry

"mamaw used to say you never really knew who'd swim in a flood." there is annie cresta everywhere for those with the eyes to see

mags and haymitch mental communication via sponsor gifts... haymitch and katniss mental communication via sponsor gifts... crazy stuff.

HAYMITCH AND MAYSILEE BROTHERSISTER

"my dreams are nothing i want to remember, full of people i must never forget. i visit death after death. it's a relief to be woken up." oh :(

katniss and haymitch both getting a lil deaf in their games #family

KATNISS MENTION WAHHH

"one of us has to be the worst victor in history. tear up their scripts, tear down their celebrations, set fire to the victor's village. refuse to play their game." do i believe that post-sotr is a genuine addict and a handful? yes ofc. do i think he's also keeping his promise to maysilee a little bit? also yes.

chapter 22

"just programmed to be walked all over, i guess" he's like a sad wet dog i see on the street and then worry about for the rest of my day

chapter 23;

reading these moments that were already kinda knew but also didn't really know is so surreal

MAYSILEE MY SWEET GIRL :(

"I just stare into those burning blue eyes, letting her know she's not dying alone. she's with family. she's with me." :((((((((

effie mention again!! it's so good to be alive!!

"proserpina wasn't born evil; she just had a lot of unlearning to do." the trinket sisters have this in common i fear

"it's okay to cry around mags" suzanne what if IM the one crying

chapter 24;

okay must assume at this point that The Raven references are building to something but they are still lowkey jarring for me idk

"neither of us are going home [...] these Games will have no victor" he's literally six months pregnant with katniss here.

that whole cliff sequence... chef's kiss

"I die happy." :(

chapter 25;

A WHAT SWALLOWS A WHAT

sepsis mention.

"nobody's here because everybody's dead." and this is just his life now. sick. sick to my stomach.

him always remembering to mention effie even tho she was only there for like 2 days... mhm hm okay.

he's already likening his victor's village house to a prison stfu

snow locking this traumatized teenage boy in this apartment, alone, with only shitty symbolism food, and making him watch a gory clip show of the past hunger games??? i need to kill this man immediately

LUCY GRAY MY BELOVED

EFFIE!!!!

her ass is always having to act normal while people are shooting guns about her ears i know effie just hates her fucking life.

haymitch describing himself as an animal NOOOOO

the world could literally be ending and nothing would stop these two idiots from bantering. i hate them. literally the plot of mockingjay (the movie).

"i'm going to tell everyone you dressed me." and i'm expected to believe there's NOTHING going on between them???

this exchange is affectionate asf ohmygod

effie being given direct instructions from snow? possibly from the man himself?? oh im gonna have a field day with that one

"effie, to her credit, stands by me." TEARS. TEARS IN MY EYES. THIS LITERALLY BEING THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN A NUTSHELL.

"i won't hurt you." "i know that." ARE U KIDDING

"but they really are for a greater good. the hunger games." don't worry suzanne girl i've been there too. i love to ruin a nice hayffie moment with effie saying something horrible and inhuman.

mags in a wheelchair :(

"day 5 or 6? who knows? it's just one big, big, big day." literally effie trinket #1 fan alert

corioloanus snow i will literally shoot u with a gun

chapter 26;

haymitch literally being put in a cage and dangled for capitol amusement.... i don't wanna talk about it.

"the only person who keeps an eye on me is effie trinket." cried. cried very hard

the four tributes finishing their journey together suzanne why don't YOU just shoot ME with a gun.

"you can take several things from me--my ma, my brother, my love--that are the only things worth keeping." i am gonna throw up.

HANGING TREE :(

of all the way to kill haymitch's family suzanne chose the most devastating one. uh huh okay.

it's literally so over.

the dry cistern. how many times can i threaten to kms

burdock everdeen u are so loved by me. i would also leave my nice town family for ur broke ass and then be devastated beyond reason when you die tragically.

don't even get me started on the song choice... this book is wet enough already

"no one took more care banking a fire at night." Mrs. Abernathy i loveee u. i grew up in a house heated solely by fire, this is literally my Mom, i feel like i Know her, i was literally Raised by her.

HAYDOVE REUNION #GODISGOOD

nevermind.

chapter 27;

THE NIGHTMARES :(

"that i will never love anyone ever again. nevermore. because he will make sure they end up dying horrible deaths." i will be using this in all my future hayffie mockingjay effie-in-prison angst fics thank u very much

haymitch pushing everyone away to the point of throwing ROCKS at burdock and asterid??? i know he was sick to his stomach the first time he saw katniss on that train

i can't watch this poor young boy became an alcoholic in real time i really can't :(

snow losing lucy gray in the woods vs. haymitch looking for lenore dove in the woods. i see u suzanne.

lucy gray has a headstone this is incredible news

"it's effie trinket who finds me," and i knew she would!!!!

is she the stylist or the escort now? or both??

"you are capable of imagining a different future. and maybe it won't be realized today, maybe not in our lifetime. maybe it will take generations." that's right suzanne! remind the children that katniss was not a uniquely extraordinary revolutionary, she was simply a revolutionary who came in at the right time!

epilogue;

"i have to look after my family." the sob that just left my body was genuinely concerning.

i will never use sweetheart for effie again.

"i finally told our story" :(

KATNISS GAVE HIM THE GEESE!!!

"the capitol can never take lenore dove from me again. they never really did in the first place." haydove u were so beautiful and lovely it was a pleasure to get to know u

me, a hayffie girly, closing the last page on that epilogue: yeah :) i can work with that :)

not a single intelligent thought to be found this time. only a lot of incoherently rambling. i'm so excited to re-read it all again tomorrow.

#sunrise on the reaping #sotr spoilers #haymitch abernathy #lenore dove #effie trinket #hayffie #seph thoughts

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pokemon1oadvanced · 2 years ago

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Thoughts on the live action one piece

Spoilers 😉

Yes, I binged all 8 episodes, and have work today and can’t see out my eyes but worth it.

I’ll try to keep it short.

Luffys character was immaculate. The way Inaki portrayed him and brought this man to life was so amazing to see. Oda really saw Luffy in him and he did not disappoint. The moves looked great, CGI was on point for a live action, and they really did break the curse.

Zoro’s character was beautiful. I love that he was more serious, and him throwing up the finger in his first scene?! I’m star struck. You can say what you want about the live action, but theres no denying this cast was perfect for these characters and the fight scenes were choreographed to the point where it looked so clean.

Nami 🥳 The emotion! The conflict! I absolutely love the way she had more action scenes and was more open with her care for the crew early on. Nami has always been my favourite character, and Emily did her justice.

I will be listening to her song on repeat.

Ussop! Ussop! Are you serious! Why do I love you in every reality! And Ussop and Kaya! The kiss! The scream I let out! I died😵‍💫 I wish he had more shooting scenes, but his true potential wasn’t seen until later in the anime so I can’t complain, cause season two Ussop is gonna pop off.

Sanji😳 First off, live action Sanji has a hold on me😮‍💨 Like what happened to the guy who couldn’t get any girls. Ngl, was keeping an eye out for the blonde at table 8, looking out for my competition👀 His kicks were so smooth and all, and I mean ALL, his fight scenes were perfect. Like how did they do this. You can see the care and effort he put into his character.

Buggy? I love our unhinged clown. His making a circus with trapped towns people. His CGI? Amazing. The little goof we were left with when they trapped his parts in the chest made me cackle!

The pacing of the show was done so well. I was worried that 8 episodes wouldn’t be enough (and I was right where’s season two I want Vivi), but the retelling was more then I hoped for. I will always love the anime more, as most of us know there’s not enough episodes in the series, but the live action did great in that respect. I did miss some of the characters they had to cut to make it flow better though. The ussop pirates live on in our hearts

Don’t get me wrong, there was some scenes I missed from the original show, like Zoro lifting Luffy’s cage, Nami burning her hands on Buggys cannon fuse, Nami stabbing Ussop. BUT, they wouldn’t have fit in this version of the show.

They did give us Zoro lifting the safe like he did Luffys cage which was cool. And Nami holding Ussops hand when Zoro was fighting, Nami showing up for the fight rather then leaving. I love her. Even though Nami didn’t get to show her care through the actions of saving Zoro or stabbing her own hand, she was still able to show those emtions through different actions. The hand holding with Ussop rather then the stabbing of her hand was so good to see. This version of Nami seemed more fragile in a way, so this suited her version well.

It was like watching One Piece for the first time all over again. I didn’t know what would happen. Getting more marines, and Garps relationship to Luffy being revealed so early in the series to cause tension within the crew *chef’s kiss* And Koby? ‘Be a good pirate.’? Like I love you? Not doing what Garp asked? Standing up for his beliefs? You are going to be a good Marine. You’ll be the greatest 💕

The relationships they explored?

First off Ussop and Kaya 😵 I love them so much. Them talking to the straw hats about their relationship was so cute, and Zoro saying it wasn’t his area of expertise 💅🏻✨ Jokes 👀

Nami being besties with Kaya😍 Her telling Kaya not to let someone tell her how to run her life, drawing connections to her own situation, telling Kaya not to be trapped. Her returning the treasure! I loved it so much. Ussop’s and Nami’s friendship has always been the one I cherished in the crew, and for Nami to support Kaya, and Ussop to see how Nami was good to his girl I feel will only strengthen their relationship.

Nami and Zoro besties? Didn’t know I could love them more.

Nami caring so much for Zoro after his fight with Mihawk showed her love for her new friends, and mirrored her care she had in the original series where she saved him from drowning at Arlong park. Even though we didn’t get the original scenes, they were supplemented with new scenes that held the same feelings.

Zosan- I mean Zoro and Sanji. The wings of the pirate king? I love their bickering in any universe it seems. The fish men fight was so good, them being unbothered with the guys trying to kill them as they fought with each other was so them. And Zoro licking his plate clean and saying Sanji’s food was okay? Not bad for a waiter huh?

And the most important pair. Captain and his first mate. I just loved how many times they reiterated that Zoro is Luffys right hand man 🥰 Luffy not stepping in the way of Zoros dream was beautiful, and his care afterwards reminded me of how he cared for Nami when she got sick in the original series. Asking Sanji to cook his favourite? So cute. He couldn’t decide if it was best for Zoro to eat or sleep or drink and him stressing for Zoro. All amazing. I’ve used amazing so many times but its just the word I need to explain it. Zoro waking up, Luffy engulfing him. I could go on and on.

Nami and Luffy? The amount of love I have for them. They were everything I wanted from them. The scene. THE scene. Beautiful.

I could go on and on about this show, but sadly I have work. Please show this version love, and don’t go into expecting the same series. It is different. It’s its own version and deserves its own category.

I love the cast! Thank you for making history with this adaptation! Xx

1K notes · View notes

sh1-n0bu · 8 months ago

Text

✿ 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙣 ✿

characters: boothill x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, angst/no comfort, spoilers to his character story, reader death, canon typical violence, blood, death, injury description, slavery mention, reader is a galaxy ranger, reader also has burn scars, some mechanical and medical things might be incorrect

notes: i have been spoiling yall too much with the constant fluff and smut. so here throws this fic into your face. divider from @/cafekitsune. a deep thanks to @theblades for helping me find a way to kill reader off😇

word count: 6.2k words

bright sunlight, gentle breeze ruffling through his bi-colored hair and the soft laughter of children. he loved the days spent at the farm, playing hide and seek with his siblings in the corn field, looking after the animals at the farm and taking some out for a walk. if him and his siblings could be sneaky enough, they will be able to snatch a few of graey’s handmade cookies through the kitchen window before dinner time. if not, they’ll get caught red handed, yet be let off the hook with a few soft pinches to their cheeks and one cookie for each since graey was just that soft.

sometimes, him and nick would ride their horses, wilding through the forests and endless fields to lead their cattle to better water and brilliant clouds. nick would sing loudly and proudly — he always does — and soon, he would join in with his young, soft voice pitching out the same song. nick would laugh boisterously, ruffling his hair and knocking off of his hat in the process. he would whine about it, saying things such as his hat getting dirty and being scolded by graey. nick would just laugh and shrug it off with a “sorry kiddo”.

he loved this place. he loved the corn fields he runs through with his siblings, he loved the loud voice of graey yelling out, scolding the kids as they run off laughing like a bunch of menaces, the oldest holding the box of cookies graey keeps on the highest shelf away from them, he loved the guns that nick would pull out from his old box of tools, teaching him how to properly aim and how to shoot the empty cans placed in the distance. and the excited yell of the other kids when he finally manages to knock one down, making him feel giddy as nick congratulated him on his first shot. after he fully mastered the old handgun of nick and shot down all 5 cans in a row, he was rewarded with nick’s old cowboy sheriff medal. the golden, 5 pointed star was old and looked rusty but to little ol’ him, it was the biggest and most treasured gift he ever got.

little ‘loaded gun’ never separated from that medal. he wore it his jacket ever since nick pinned it there for him, proudly showing it off to his siblings and talking about how he will take after nick and graey’s profession in the future. how he promises to nick and graey that he will make them proud, how he will live up to their expectations and become an even better cowboy.

“you sure will, little partner” nick would always laugh and pat his head, re-adjusting the medal. graey would sigh and roll his eyes at nick’s actions before reminding him that he doesn’t have to choose that life if he doesn’t want to. young ‘loaded gun’ would pout, whining that he wants to.

“but i want to be a cowboy! i want to be like you and nick, taking down bad guys, bringing justice and firing big guns!” he would yell, shooting his arms up in the air and jumping around.

“uh-huh. talk about firing big guns after you lose that lisp of yours” graey would chime in, always quick to reprimand him for his missing tooth and lisp as his hands affectionately smoothen out his messy hair, groaning in defeat as the mess of black and white refuse to be tamed.

“but i already lost it! i’m a big boy now!”

“hey graey! am i a big boy capable of firing big guns now?” were the first words he said as he brought back his first successful bounty. the smell of gunpowder and ash clung heavy to his jacket but he didn’t care. the smaller kids ran up to his sides, asking for upsies while his siblings who had already grown up and decided to stay at the farm pat his back and ruffle his hair with affectionate teasing quips.

he did it. he held his promise and followed in the footsteps of graey and nick, the old rusty gun and the sheriff medal being a motivational tool for him to reach his goal. now, all grown up and a master trickshot amongst the cowboys of aeragan-epharshel, ‘loaded gun’ was ready to aim and fire at anyone who dares to harm the innocents. although it had been years since the last time he saw his parents and siblings, everything about them and the old red barn stayed the same. though, the corn field looked a little bit bigger than he remembered.

‘loaded gun’ had done a lot in his life since becoming a cowboy. from fighting bandits in the dusty fields, chasing thieves at the dangerous cliffsides to having a gun fight against rival gangs. there were many times he had narrowly escaped death, breathed nothing but the metallic scent of blood, death and bullets and he still prevailed. although he had lost friends along this deadly road, he had also gained many.

that night, ‘loaded gun’ sat across his parents, seated amongst his siblings as he recalled tales of his adventures. the warmth of his younger siblings’ hugs, the teasing quips of the elders’ back pats and the proud looks nick and graey gave him — he was sure of it; this place was where he was the most happiest.

so when he found a little figure, wrapped in a measly ragtag of a fabric, crying out and lonely, he knew he had to step in and take in the little one. it’s what was right and what graey and nick would have done. a small bundle, not even a month old was left to fend for herself. ‘loaded gun’ carefully cradled the baby close to his chest, trying his best to soothe her cries as much as he could.

“graey! nick! i need some help here!” and ‘loaded gun’ had become a father.

ever since becoming a father, ‘loaded gun’ has experienced everything that parenthood had to offer. sleepless nights of the baby wailing at an ungodly hour, searching for his comfort and warmth. having to change the baby’s diapers and bathe her. checking the temperature of the milk in the bottle before feeding time — everything parenthood brought him, he took it all in strides and jolly laughs.

sometimes, he would put the baby in a small bucket and take her out on the farm with himself. the little baby would laugh and clap her tiny hand together, big bright eyes unknowing of what was happening as ‘loaded gun’ fails to tame a wild stallion, proceeding to get his ass thrown off of the horse’s back. seeing his little girl so happy, how could he ever stop making a fool of himself? he even went far as to carve out a mini guitar for her after seeing her fascination with his old, weathered one.

“from now on, yer name will be clementine. can’t have my little girl going around without a name, right?” he asks, bringing up the white haired girl into his arms and raising her into the air. clementine only giggles, blabbering some stuff as she laughs at the feeling of being in the air. seeing the baby’s innocent wide eyes staring down at him, head haloed by the high sun, ‘loaded gun’s grey ones soften as a teary smile forms on his face. the scars on his hands remind him of his profession and dangers of being a cowboy, but in his heart, he swore that he will keep his little girl safe and to be the best father he can be.

“my little clementine…”

gone... it was all gone.

the corn fields where he used to run through with his siblings when they were young, the old red farm that was in the middle of being repainted, the comfortable warm yet dingy house that him and his family used to live in — it was all gone. the scent of sulfur and burnt bodies hung in the air, ash raining from high above like it was some sort of a rain, turning his already dirtied and burnt clothes into black. there was no sign of nick, graey, his siblings nor the panicked farm animals.

little clementine... where was she? aeons, you can do anything you want to him but please spare his little girl, please by some blind miracle, let little clem be alive. he won't care what he has to do or which burning log he has to push away with his bare hands, just let him hear the sound of his little girl's cries to let him know that she's still alive and he'll do it. he'll do anything to save his little girl.

running through the scorched earth, 'loaded gun' calls out for his family. nick, graey, his siblings and even by their childhood nicknames. clementine, where was clementine, where was his baby girl? his little girl, where—

small red scarf and a burnt mini guitar. that was all he had managed to dig out from the burning farm house of his home. that was all he had left of his little girl, the red scarf that was the same copy of his own and the hand carved guitar with its strings plucked due to the heat of the bomb. those two things were the only things he brought with himself as he travels through the vast galaxies, searching a certain doctor who had made themselves into a cyborg successfully.

on the kingdom of bandits, talia, did he found the doctor. heart heavy, eyes full of vengeance and burnt hands holding onto the strap of his bag that had his little girl's memoirs. the doctor tried to persuade him into thinking over his decisions again, to woo him into staying as a human and not to lose said humanity. but 'loaded gun' was steadfast in his decision. if he wanted to stay as a human, he would have already thrown his body into the fires that engulfed his home.

with a deep sigh and slight reluctance, the doctor fulfilled his wishes. blue colored blood being pumped into his new metal body, no longer warm, scarred flesh but rather a clean plated metal being wired into place. at least his head was kept intact. after everything was over and he regained consciousness, he simply thanks the doctor and leaves his payment on the operation table full of his former human blood mixed with his new cyborg blue ones. he didn't wanted to look at the walls or the floor — it was covered in filthy purple liquids.

"before you leave, will you at least tell me your name?"

"... it's boothill now"

"well, good luck with your hunt mr.boothill"

it has been... how long now? boothill doesn't know. since his 'rebirth' as boothill, he has spent so much time traveling from one world to the other, destroying one ipc ship to the next. it has been a bit too long in his opinion, as the destruction of his home planet has stopped being brought up as the latest hot topic at every bar or saloon he visits. or maybe they never talked about it to begin with. the ipc had friends and slaves everywhere, at every branch or organization or world, boothill wouldn't be surprised if they had ended up covering their filthy work by masking it as an another 'horrific accident that befell a poor world before we could save them' type of thing. the ipc were amazing at their manipulation after all.

"those ipc folk sure have been having some hard time since your sudden emergence huh, cowboy?" a voice rings out to his left, a body covered in a bright red coat sitting down beside him at the bar. gesturing to the bartender, he watches from the corner of his eyes as you order a glass of earl grey and marmalade cooler with extra ice. boothill doesn't know this stranger draped in red was nor did he care. but judging by the way you easily knew of him as the latest troublemaker against the ipc, you have probably heard of the bounty on his head or you just travel the galaxies a lot. or it could be both at the same time.

turning his head just a little bit more towards the side, he looks you up and down, trying to see if there are anything that makes you stand out in any form of way. anything to hint at what or who you were.

old, faded, long, red coat left open at the front, smart by the way you have easily deduced he was a cowboy by just his accessories and clothing alone and ordering anon-alcoholic drink despite having set foot inside a bar and took a seat beside him. he can't see any weapons on your body at the moment and your red coat was covering most of your body too. he'll just have to go in blindly then.

"done checking me out, cowboy?"

by the time he had finished assessing you and had looked up to see your face, you were already staring at him with a nonchalant smirk on your face. for some odd reason, boothill could feel his cheeks heat up and wires zap inside his metal body. there was just something about the way that you easily teased him and wasn't ashamed to hold an eye contact with his target shaped pupils that got him feeling weirdly self conscious. had he forgotten to shine the metal plates of his body today? was his revolver still in place, shiny and strong? what about his bullets? his hat? his hair? oh what if he smelled? can cyborg bodies have any odor to begin with—?

"come on now, don't look away from me. i was talking to you" he could hear you coo out, your hand coming up to turn his chin so you could look at his face. the warmth of your hand touching the only leftover human part of his, the laidback confidence you had in your own self, it all got boothill letting out a steam from his ears like a cartoon character as he quickly turns away from you, his hand pulling down his hat to save whatever tiny drops of image he had.

what a shame, turning into a flustered mess like a high school girl talking to her crush by just the smallest amount of flirting he received. where was his class? his sarcastic remarks? the sassy quips and bites he gives to those who touched him? his tongue felt heavy, cheeks felt like they were on fire and he could just hear the gears inside his body shifting and turning at an uncomfortably fast pace that made him feel like he was overheating. or maybe he truly was overheating. darn, he should visit the doctor again to get some certain things removed.

"a-ahem, didn't yer' parents teach you it's not okay to flirt with strangers at a bar?" curse him for stuttering over his words, he was supposed to appear cool not like a teenager boy dammit! and the way your lips curled upwards even more at the tripping of his words wasn't helping. well he'll be damned, you have a smile that cowboys would kill each other for.

"i'm [name], a galaxy ranger. and you are, dear cowboy?"

idiot cowboys like him would kill each other for.

"name's boothill, sugar"

it has been exactly 2 years and 4 months since boothill first met you and was introduced to a faction called the galaxy rangers. apparently, galaxy rangers are a voluntarily formed group that follows the teachings of lan, the hunt and carries out acts of service, upholding peace and justice. some galaxy rangers are a bit ruthless in the ways they deal with the injustice that happens at some worlds or galaxies, some are a bit more diplomatic, some travel in groups of friends and colleagues while some travel alone.

you were once the latter one; a galaxy ranger that travelled the cosmos alone, a bright red shooting star that shine and never fade till the break of day, bringing hope and destruction at once. were; because it has been precisely 2 years and 4 months since boothill has started to travel alongside you. he had decided to become a galaxy ranger, the voluntary group's ideals appealing to his own sense of vengeance and justice that he wishes to bring to a certain group.

"boothill, it's time to wake up" you call out, having always been the early morning bird out of the two of you. walking towards the bedside of the asleep cowboy, you poke at his eyebrows and nose, pushing his lips into random emotes, snorting at the slight hint of drool on his lips. despite having an all metal body, the cyborg was still very human at heart. you've seen the way he helps the elderly cross the roads, entertaining the kids of your stop of the day by teaching them how to properly hold a gun or to shoot one, how he pets a stray dog or a cat, how he sits down at the bar with you after a successful mission, a guitar in hand as he starts to sing in an unfamiliar language. how he looked sad as he regularly cleans the sheriff medal on his jacket, how he stares at a certain picture that he keeps in his jacket pocket.

or even the ways he calls out to a little girl with white hair, addressing her as "clementine", before apologizing and patting the girl on the head to say "be careful, kid". you've seen it all, or what you like to think of as all of boothill.

"fuck meeee, it's still early dawn sugar" the cowboy groans out, voice groggy due to his voice bank having been on resting mode and just restarted. reaching an arm out, he manages to grab a hold of the back of your shirt before you could escape, pulling you down onto his bed as you let out a shriek. grunting at your flailing limbs and attempts to escape his clutch, he only tightens them, climbing on top of you with a cheshire grin on his face.

"that's what ya' get for trynna wake up a cowboy, sugar. ya' get put in time-out" boothill grins at the red of your cheeks from laughing too much, a surprising flare of cuteness aggression coming over him as he leans over your face to gnaw at your cheeks with his shark-like teeth.

"on-nom nom nom nom nom, i'm gonna eat up yer' mochi cheeks, sugar!" the cyborg says, making an overdramatic munching noises as he gnaws the sharp edges of his teeth over the soft fat of your cheek. you could only laugh, throwing your legs back and forth as you try to escape his hold.

"boothill! you're a whole damn 700 kilogram of pure metal alone, get off of me!" you shriek out when the mischievous cowboy starts to gnaw on the skin of your neck and chin, akin to a baby kitten throwing a temper tantrum. as if to spite you, he only rolls his body over yours more, squishing you flat down onto the bed with a menacing laugh.

it was usual to start the day like this between you and boothill. he was not a morning person, you were and usually you would have to end up paying for being the early bird as he squishes your body flush against his own metal one. sometimes you two would end up just falling back asleep, with you being held hostage in boothill's grasp and boothill comfortably squeezing his face into your body. sometimes, you two would end up like this, just laughing and having a harmless prank time together. other times, you two end up with a bunch of ruined pillows, the feathers dancing in the air as you try to get at least a hit on him. but somehow, boothill was always better than you when it came to pillow fights.

"now what happened 'ere, sugar?" you could hear boothill ask, finally managing to get a deep breath in as he finally lifts away some of the weight he had on you. a cold, hard metal tenderly ghosts over where your neck and shoulder met, over the old burn scar you had. oh right, you forgot of that little fella there.

"ah, that. it's just some old burn wound from one of my earlier days as a galaxy ranger. there's nothing to worry about, don't worry" you hum, bringing a hand up to run through his mess of a bi-colored hair. his hair was always a mess no matter the circumstances, it was honestly a wonder how he doesn't have urges to cut his hair short. not like you were complaining, the long hair suited him perfectly and you wouldn't want him to change his looks.

as you lay there on the hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling, thinking over where to go next or what route you two should take during this next new mission of yours, boothill was busy remembering an old memory. an old memory that he wished to forget so vehemently.

red and orange — that was all he could smell all around him. the burnt down farm that was in the middle process of being renovated, the burnt carcasses — it wouldn't be right to call them carcasses, there was nothing much left remaining to even properly call them as that — the corn fields burning down. sulfur and death — that was all 'loaded gun' could smell as he dug into his burning home. the heat that scorched his face or licked away at the skin of his hand didn't bother him. all he wanted to do was to find his daughter, his little girl, his little clementine. please, let her be alive by some miracl—

"boothill?" your voice echoed in his head, snapping him back from the dreaded memory lane he accidentally made a trip down towards. looking up at your face, he could see the furrowing of [c] brows over your [c] eyes as they stared at him with so much concern, affection, wonder and care. he takes in the details of your face as his breath gets stolen, seeing the way the [c] locks circled around your head as you reflected the perfect image of what he thinks aeons looks like. by the mighty aeons, you were gorgeous. and how his breath is found once again as you run a hand through his hair, blunt nails lightly scratching at his scalp. you stole his breath away as easily as breathing it back into him.

leaning close into you, he felt the way your breaths mingled with his own, how if he were to try and reach out, he could feel your body heat against his only remaining body like an anchor, like a long awaited lover returning home. there was warmth in your eyes that was missing in his cold, metal body. humane marks that was reflected onto his own vibranium plates that tried to imitate human flesh. there was humanity in you that boothill feared he lacked in himself.

"[name]... i want to taste your lips" boothill breathed out before he could even catch whether he was imagining his words or was outright saying it. and he did get what he politely asked for, your split lips connecting with his own intact ones. he tasted life that he was sure that he had lost on your lips, a memory of something old and tender that had been burned away in the fires that scorched his home and your body. he felt something move and beat rhythmically within the confines of his gears and wires, convinced that he had somehow, by some way regained his heart. regained his human body. regained his humanity.

you breathed life into him and he found himself asking for one more when your lips left his own, and one more, and one more. and one more.

"boothill, when was the last time that you went to the doctor to have your body checked over?" you say, turning your attention away from sharpening your sword to his body. even from such distance, you could see some screws getting a bit looser, some little wires or the ends of wires peeking out from behind the plates of his body. from what you could remember, the last time your partner had told you of going to the doctor to have himself checked over was... perhaps a year ago.

as galaxy rangers, you two now constantly get into fights and battles. especially with the ipc as the corporation has added you to their list of wanted figures besides boothill's growing dead or alive bounty. in an order to be ready for any ambush or unplanned fights that may take place, you and your partner must be ready for any sort of fight that may come your way. which also means making a trip to the kingdom of bandits and thieves, talia, a bit often to see the doctor.

something that boothill insists doesn't have to be done after every fight or to have you follow him. the cyborg insists that it's for your own safety but you know that he just doesn't want you to see him being taken apart and put back together again like... like he has lost his own sense of self. despite his flair and bright smiles, you always knew that boothill had a deep sense of problem with his body. you know, since you were always the one to collect his breaking consciousness into your awaiting warm arms to place him back together again. peace by loving peace, you were akin to a warm candlelight that soothed his worries and shooed away any fears that might dig its claws into his wires.

"uhhh... dunno sugar. maybe a year? or even over a year ago..." the cowboy replies, looking up from his own weapon that he was cleaning. seeing your eyes narrow at him and shoulders become stiff, boothill quickly places down his revolver, waving his hands as a form of self defense from your already approaching lecture.

"h-hey hey hey! but don't worry, i'm genuinely doing fine, sugar! if anything, it should be nagging you for not resting and properly taking care of that shoulder wound!" the cyborg was quick to defend himself, instead pointing a finger towards your direction. more specifically, your shoulder.

"it's just a small cut, boothill! i've already gotten it cleaned and wrapped in bandages" you raised your arms in a surrendering motion, now taking on the side to defend yourself from his words.

just as boothill was about to retort back with something smart-mouthed, you two suddenly fall silent as the familiar sound of the heels of an eerily familiar corporation uniform resounds in the hallway boards of the inn. those footsteps and the light click! clack! of their weapons told you two everything you needed to know. silently, boothill puts on his hat, reloading his revolver at a terrifyingly fast pace. meanwhile, you shrug on your signature red coat, newly sharpened and cleaned blade ready to slice through the ipc's weapons.

waiting patiently behind the doors of your inn room, you two wait with bated breaths until a very quick clicking of the door opening is heard. before the door could even creak open on its old hinges, boothill has already taken the first shot. without needing for words to talk about tactics or which side to take, you rush out, the sharp edge of your blade cutting through the ipc's every weapons. behind you the sound of gunshots and bodies hitting the floor follows.

it was simple, really. you disarm the ipc and boothill takes care of the rest. surrounded at all sides? you will always take the east side while boothill takes care of the ones on the west. and if there's a ew weapon or a surprise in your way, boothill will just blast it high into the sky with his arm canon and you can make the rest of them into thin noodles at record time. a deadly duo you two were, gutsy as you stood against the ipc in its whole with no fear, only excitement at what new weapon you'll come across or who could get more hits in. perhaps that's precisely why the ipc decided to send battalion after battalion after you two this time. perhaps it was the bounties on your head that caused the inn owner to betray your trust and rat you two out.

either way, nothing could exactly stop in your way. weapons cut, guns exploded due to bullets meeting inside the hole, armories torn apart and ipc managers blasted. there was nothing that could stand against a hurricane of two galaxy rangers. a red coat flashing past the ipc, a grey shine that took down a panicking soldier standing kilometers away. but there was a little problem. boothill's loose wires had connected with the wrong ones, causing him to stay in his lock 'n loaded state. target shaped pupils now bright red with the grey of his irises now bright red that perceived all those with a weapon as an enemy.

after the final ipc manager fell apart in a heap of metal and wires, you heard the sound of a gunshot still being fired towards the west. was boothill ambushed? was he okay? rushing over to where the sound is the loudest at, you couldn't help but gawk at the state of the corpses and remains of some of the robots. the large gaping holes were not normal, if anything it looked more like a canon bullet with how the entry holes were bigger and the exit holes were smaller. why was boothill using his arm canon at every chance he got? what was happening?

"boothi-!" a bang rings out just as you make it to where the gunshot was the loudest, bullet wizzing past your ear, nipping at the shell of it. the wound left ringing in your ear as you hold up a hand to cover the injured ear, looking on in fear as the red iris and white pupils of your partner looks straight back at you. you could see your own reflection in his eyes and boothill didn't look happy to see you.

eyes that used to stare at you with fondness and sea of affection now stared dead into your own pupils as if you were an enemy. a threat.

"whatcha' lookin' at, scum? come on, let's see ya' dance" this was not your boothill, this wasn't your beloved, this wasn't the same sweetheart whose eyes turn into heart shapes every time your own gaze meets his. this was not boothill.

dodging a bullet by a mere graze, you duck behind an overturned table. shit, think [name], how do you get him out of that state? you briefly remember him telling you that he briefly goes into lock 'n loaded state when he has a stand-off duel. but what more? he was locked in that state of his, ready to kill anyone that comes close. do you have to duel with him to make him snap out of it? but you don't know how to shoot a gun.

but... what if it doesn't have to be a gun duel?

"hey!" you call out, sliding on the floor to hide behind another chair that was flipped over when the canon bullet of boothill shoots through your old coverage with no mercy. "how about a duel, cowboy? you think you can be a faster draw than me?" you can hear his gun click, knowing that now he needs at least a few seconds to reload. maybe 5 seconds at best, boothill was fast in his reloading. you hear a soft scoff as you hear his gun open, the soft clanks of his bullet entering the cylinder resounding in the empty room. one, two, three -- all six bullets in and the soft clink of the hammer of his revolver releasing indicated that boothill was ready for a draw.

"hah, what do you think, sweet cheeks? think you can keep up with me?" you can just hear the taunting in his voice, goading you to make the first move. deep breath in and out, your hand holding the sheath of your sword, ready to draw. silence takes over the room as you speedrun any plans or ideas to catch him off guard. any idea to make him snap out of it. you can be the faster draw but that won't promise you a win if your life is going to be lost.

a steady hand is what you need. just a steady hand to knock some sense back into boohtill... a steady hand to knock some sense.

"come on, fucker. what's taking ya'—" the table he thought you were hiding behind is abruptly flipped over towards boothill, taking him by a sliver of surprise before he aims and pulls the trigger. once, twice and the table was split into half. a chair was next, a single explosive bullet causing the woods to splinter and cover your form as you dash through the room, straight at him.

"'atta you fuckhead! packing some guts, i see!" boothill laughs, aiming straight at your head and pulling the trigger. the bullet doesn't hit, you managed to draw your sword in time to cut it in half. a grin matching the sense of a maniac high spread across boothill's face at the clinking of the two bullet pieces hitting the floor. all you had on mind was to get near him at this moment, nothing else. another bullet is fired, getting cut apart in the middle before his revolver joins, being split apart by your expert swordsmanship.

close enough, you can do it, you can snap him back into his senses.

the sound of broken revolver and dulled blade hitting the floor is disregarded the moment you lean in close to him, hand raised, fist reared back, ready to knock some sense into him. at the same time, boothill's left arm raises towards your abdomen. time seemed to slow and all you had in mind was to deliver a sharp knuckle sandwich.

BANG! CRACK!

your sharp punch landed straight across his face, making his hat drop to the ground. if this was any other bar fight, you would have laughed in his face as you witness his red iris turn grey again, paired with the signature marksman symbol pupils. you did it, your plan worked and boothill was back. when you wanted to point at his face and scold his ears off, all you managed was a weak wheeze. strange...

the world spun around you, the horrified face of boothill catching your attention alongside the sharp pain at your side. you didn't even knew that you fell to the ground as boothill cradles you up into his arms, holding you like how he always does as his metallic fingers gently hold your cheek. his mouth was moving, bi-colored hair falling like a curtain over you two as if to keep this moment hidden from the prying eyes of the corpses in the room.

what was he saying? there was a permanent ringing in your ears and you couldn't be more annoyed about the timing of something more than now. you wanted to listen to his voice, the gentle rasp as he apologized for now listening to you, the hidden tenderness as he calls you an idiot for getting too close to him. breathing became harder for you, black dots appearing in your vision, hindering you from seeing the way boothill was desperately holding you tight against his body. you must have hit your head pretty heard when you fell.

"... i told you... to have yourself checked o.. ver..." you barely manage to say, your voice dying in your throat as you try to talk to him. shaking hand comes up to cradle his cheek, trying to wipe away the tears that streaming from his grey eyes. why was your hand bloodied? it left stains on your dear boothill's cheeks and he will surely complain about it as he tries to wipe it away with his own metallic ones like a cat. you felt cold from the inside, you couldn't move your legs and even holding up your hand felt like a chore.

perhaps a nice rest will help you relax and gain your strength back. and when you wake up again, you will be back in the inn's room, your favorite cowboy by your side, clinging to you like a lifeline as he snores open-mouthed, wiping his drool all over your shirt. when you wake up again, your favorite cowboy won't be covered in blood. when you wake up again, there won't be this annoying sharp sting at your side that felt like your whole intestines were spilling out.

"sugar...? sugar, no, don't close your eyes! [name] wake up!" boothill yells, shaking your bloodied body as he tries to make you regain consciousness. you can hit him all you like, put pink ribbons in his hair, steal his hat, scold him for all you want, just please don't close your eyes. please don't fall asleep. please, don't leave him alone.

"... i'll get lost again if you leave me..." there was no pulse. your body was cold already. and the cyborg wished he could cry again. at least one last time.

#nobu.writes #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail angst #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr angst #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #boothill x gender neutral reader #boothill angst #gender neutral reader

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eternalsams · 7 months ago

Text

Let Me Go ➛ Arthur Morgan

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

warning/content: bit of fluff, angst, rdr2 spoilers, high honor arthur, mention of death, tuberculosis, horses death (it's a fair warning), little bit of blood

summary: there is only one thing Arthur wants, get you somewhere safe, no matter what it costs.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. This is also my first time writing for Arthur, please be indulgent!

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Arthur didn't think he'd let himself fall in love a second time. The first time it happened, his heart had been broken as he was on one knee, proposing to Mary. He swore he'd never let any other woman sneak her way into his heart ever again, he would've done anything not to feel that tightening feeling in his chest if he ever got rejected once again. But Eliza happened, they met in a bar in the West. She was a cute waitress, he was still young and handsome. And he almost felt like he could fall in love with her when she gave him a son, he was ready to. He wanted to forget his own promise and be a real family with her and little Isaac. But it all ended way too soon when he stood in front of those two graves next to the cabin they thought they'd be safe in.

Years passed by and he couldn't look at any woman anymore, his heart broken, stained by grief and sorrow. And after the Blackwater disaster, he didn't even had the thought of seeking comfort in a woman's arms. So when Charles came back to camp with your curled up figure in his arms, he didn't pay much attention. Strauss was harassing him to collect some debts for the gang and meeting a new unfortunate soul brought back by Charles was not in his plans. But one night you came up to him and tried having a conversation with him. You spent hours talking with him, captivated by his low voice telling you all kind of stories about people he met, animals he'd seen.

And from the moment he started falling for you, he just couldn't stop. You were just so easy to be around, to talk to. He loved spending his late nights chatting with you close to the camp fire, telling you his exploits and you telling him the funny stories that happened at camp while he was away. The first night you spent together was the best one of Arthur's life if you'd ask him, simply holding you in his arms for hours, feeling your heart beating close to his.

But right now, the feeling of your heart beating close to him was everything but comforting. One of your arm were tight around his waist, trying not to squeeze the air out of his sick lungs. John was right ahead, his horse galloping through the trees to escape Dutch's madness and the Pinkertons. You tried your best to hold onto Arthur's rifle in your hand, sometimes letting him go to aim the barrel at the agents surprising you on your way as your lover rode his horse like his life depended on it. Except yours did too. His breathing was starting to grow heavy and loud, feeling like he had to spit the blood out of his lungs.

"Pinkertons on the left, they'll keep the others busy!" You heard John shout and looked to your left. You could hear Micah's voice behind you, insulting you and calling you traitors. "This way!" John indicated but before Arthur could do anything, you were both ejected from your horse, tumbling on the ground. Arthur was quick to make sure you were okay before taking his rifle from your hands and shooting the Pinkertons up the hill. You crawled your way to his horse and soothed him, murmuring sweet things to him as you watched him suffer in pain, blood spurting from his wounds. When all the agents were killed, Arthur came running back to you and gently caressed the horse's neck. "Come on, guys. Let's go." John called after you. You looked up at Arthur and could see fresh tears in his eyes as he watched his horse live his last minutes. "Gimme a second." Arthur asked and leaned over his horse, whispering a thank you to him.

You stood onto your feet with John's help and Arthur grabbed his hat before turning to the two of you. "What about the money? Abigail gave me the key." He asked before looking into your eyes. He once told you he'd get you a part of the Blackwater money and you'd get a ranch somewhere in the west, somewhere nice where the two of you would grow old and die happy. But now that he was sick and dying, you didn't really know if you could even get that ranch with him. "The money's not important, Arthur. Let's just get out of here and find some place safe to hide for a while." You tried to convince him, seeing the hesitation in his eyes. He wanted to give you that money, to you and John. He didn't need it but you did. John's family did. "If you want the money, you head down. I gotta go to my family." John said in turn, holding you upright in his arms.

Arthur looked at you and nodded before putting his hat on his head. "I'm coming with you. I'm gonna get you out of this bullshit if it's the last goddamn thing I do." He said to John before taking your hand in his and helping you walking up the hill. The three of you started running up the cliff as you started to hear new gunshots behind you. "Come on, sweetheart, up we go!" Arthur made you run in front of him, making sure you weren't forgotten behind. You quickly ran up John who also helped you not to fall but often looked over you shoulder to check if Arthur was still following. When you realized he was being too slow, you ran down to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. "Don't you worry about me, darling. Just keep running, I'm right behind you." He tried to push you off him. "I'm not leaving you alone, Arthur."

When you reached a high point on the cliff, Arthur pushed you down behind a rock before giving you his two pistols. Two customized Cattleman revolvers. On each handle were a buck and a doe carved. Arthur had them engraved after your first night together, saying you'd always be with him, and him with you. "Remember what I taught you?" Arthur asked you as you looked down at the pistols. "Both eyes open and hold your breath when pulling the trigger." You repeated what he always told you when you trained shooting with him. He smiled at you before taking his rifle from around his shoulder and firing at the Pinkertons with John. You sighed and checked if the guns were loaded before aiming at the Pinkertons, the three of you eliminating them one by one.

"We need to get outta here. Let's go!" John called as he started walking back. You shot another agent and joined John as Arthur tumbled on his knees, his breathing heavier by the minute. You took his hand in yours after you put the pistols back into Arthur's holsters. "Come on, Arthur. Stay with us." You hurried him as you pulled him with you. "You two go..." He breathed out, gently pushing your hand away. "No, Arthur. You're coming with us." You immediately said, refusing to even think about leaving without him. "Keep pushing, Arthur." John encouraged him. "No." He said before coughing more blood. You were about to pull a tissu from your satchel but he wiped his mouth with his hand. "I think I've pushed all I can. You two go." He straightened up and looked at you. "Go with John, sweetheart. Don't make this harder than it is."

"No. You're coming with us, Arthur Morgan. Don't even think I won't drag your heavy body with us." You walked up to him, frustration clear in your voice. That made Arthur chuckle then cough. He softly grabbed your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, lit by the moonlight. "I know you would, darling. That's why I need you to go with John and don't look back." He told you before sending a heavy look to his friend behind you. "No..." Your voice broke and you grabbed his wrists to pull his hands away from your face. "We ain't all gonna make it. And you know it." He tried to reason with you but you refused to listen to him. John came up behind you and grabbed your arm to pull you with him. You snatched your arm from his grip and ran up to Arthur, taking him into your arms. "Please come with us. Don't leave me alone." You cried, your tears rolling down your face and soaking his shirt collar. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. He pulled back and took his pistols out of his belt, handing them to you. "Keep them with you." You reached for them and looked at the carved doe on the first one. Arthur's finger brushing over the worn wooden handle. He then gave you the second one, where the beautiful buck was standing proud, forever engraved into the wood.

"It would mean a lot to me." He closed your hands around his guns before kissing your forehead. He then took off his hat and walked up to John, holding himself onto the younger man's shoulder. He placed his hat on John's head and smiled at him. "Keep her safe for me." He said in a low voice, but not low enough for you to miss it. "No!" You screamed and was about to reach for Arthur but John's arms wrapped around you, pulling you with him as you fought to join your lover. Arthur looked away, not able to watch your tears, and grabbed his rifle, loading it with the shells he kept in his bandolier. "I'll hold them off. Run and don't look back until you find somewhere safe to stay." He ordered, ignoring your cries. "Come on, lady." John tried to pull you with him but you fought with everything you got. "Please. There ain't no more time for talk." Arthur said, looking at you one last time, his eyes shining with tears.

Your knees gave away and if John wasn't holding you so tight, you would've fallen on your knees, scraping them on the rocks. Arthur simply looked at you, trying to memorize how your face looks like, even all red and puffy from crying, you were still the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on. "Arthur, please..." You pleaded, thinking this was just a bad dream, that your Arthur would never give up and leave you alone. "Go with John, darling." He said, not having the strength to hear your cries more longer. "Arthur!" You called after him. "Just go with him!" He shouted back at you before pausing. You tried not to take it personally and looked at him. "Promise me you'll come back to me." You murmured into the quiet night. The gunshots would eventually come back but right now, all you heard was the wild life. "I love you, darling. Now go." He only said. "Promise me, Arthur!" You tried to run to him but John started walking back, pulling you with him. "Go!" Arthur shouted at you as he noticed more Pinkertons running your way. John saw them too and pulled you harder as you cried in his arms to go to Arthur. "Come on, we gotta go."

"No! We can't leave him! John, please!" You cried out as he made you walk away from the love of your life. Eventually, you heard him shout at the Pinkertons and the gunshots started all over again. When John thought you wouldn't try and run to Arthur no more, he let go of you and only took your hand to run away with you. It was like your body was acting on its own, your brain not following the recent events. You lost the only thing close to a family, lost the sweetest creature you've ever met. You still remember when Arthur first helped you ride his stallion by yourself, you were so scared to do it on your own, the horse was enormous next to you. But he turned out to be the sweetest thing in the world, answering to your calls and keeping you safe when Arthur wasn't there for you. And now you just lost Arthur. Arthur.

It wasn't fair.

The moment John saw a man riding towards the two of you on his horse, he pulled his scarf over his face and took out his gun. "Sir, we need your horse. Right now." He pointed his gun at the man and helped you get onto the horse when the man got scared and tumbled down the saddle. John quickly mounted the horse and had you wrap your arms around him to secure you. He kicked the animal's rear and started riding away. "You okay back there?" He eventually asked you but all you could do was stare at the cliff where you left the man you loved. When you turned to John, you could see the sun rising on the horizon and hoped Arthur could watch it one last time.

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