#First Time

[shiveringsoldier]

parents who refuse to vaccinate their children should be charged with child abuse I think

[secondlife-stories]

I licked his bulge through the fabric of his briefs and he sighed with pleasure after someone touched his cock after so long. I rubbed his pouch against my face, feeling it harden in the process. Brad placed his hands behind his head and enjoyed the sensations he received from his crotch. I stroked his wide thighs, feeling his quads tense beneath his skin. My drool was wetting his underwear more and more, darkening the fabric and making it stick to his now rock-hard cock. I grabbed the waistband and pulled it down, freeing his erection. I left the elastic below his sack to grip his swollen balls. I looked up to meet his eyes, but he kept them closed, I guess because he was imagining that it was some bitch between his legs. I looked back down to observe his jewels. His cock was standing completely erect, crowned by a circumcised pink head that had been oozing precum for a while now. Those two enormous balls seemed to be full and wanting someone to empty them. He was completely shaved, and his skin looked silked smooth.

I knew how eager he was for the blowjob to start, but I decided to enjoy his suffering and torture him a little. I began by running the tip of my tongue along the raphe between his balls and moving very slowly up to his frenulum, making him tremble. I repeated the movement several times until, with a spasm, a large drop of precum escaped just as I reached his tip. I collected it to savor it. I was surprised by the slightly sweet taste and remembered the liters of pineapple juice my roommate was always drinking. I continued focusing on his testicles, licking them profusely, playing with them with my tongue. I made circles and drew a figure eight around them. When they were completely soaked, I put the first one in my mouth and sucked, pulling on it. Inside my mouth, my tongue continued to run over the smooth skin of his scrotum. I moved on to the next one and did the same, making him moan from between his lips and, for the first time, open his eyes to see what I was doing.

I took advantage of the fact that our eyes met to lick his shaft again, all the way to the top, without ever touching the head. I kissed from the side, moving his cock with my fingers before his attentive gaze, his mouth half open. After one of his sighs, I opened my mouth wide, and stuck out my tongue, leaving the tip of his dick over it. I looked deeply into his eyes and, in one movement, swallowed it completely to the back of my throat. It was a good-sized dick, but I had practice.

I kept the deep throat for some time while his abs contracted with pleasure and he threw his head back, his eyes rolling back. Then I took it out of my mouth and looked at his face to tell him: "I hope you're taking notes, it's your turn next".

With that said, I began the best blowjob of his life. I sucked hard while his cock went in and out of my mouth, playing with my tongue so that not an inch was left untouched. I would put it all in or just the tip, alternating so that he would never get used to the sensations. His eyes were no longer closed and he looked in admiration at the work I was doing, but without ever touching me. On the other hand, I decided to enjoy his body as well as his cock and moved my hands up his torso to squeeze his juicy pecs. I bobbed my head as my hands roamed his perfectly sculpted body, making my dick painfully hard and fighting my underwear to get free. Once I thought his dick was polished enough, I went deep again and buried his cock down my throat as I lapped his balls one last time. I could sense that he was close to cuming but I wouldn't let that happen yet. I extracted his dick from my mouth. A single string of saliva maintained our connection before I spoke and broke it.

"Well, time to keep your end of the bargain".

"No, please. I was about to finish. Let me cum and then I'll do you", he pleaded.

"I'm not stupid Brad. Once you' get your rocks off, you'll make up some excuse not to reciprocate the blowjob. You'll cum after me tonight," I sentenced holding his gaze seriously.

He clicked his tongue and reluctantly sat up, ready for my next move. I got up from kneeling down and raised until my boner was at his eye level. Only a couple inches and the stretched fabric of my boxers separated us.

"Take it out. It's eager to meet you", I ordered him jokingly.

He looked at me annoyed as I laughed at his discomfort. He grabbed the waistband and started to pull down slowly. He was revealing my dick in slow motion until it was released. My cock jumped from its confinement like a spring almost hitting my roommate on the nose, surprising him. Now that it was exposed, Brad was beginning to realize the true implications of the deal. He stared at my cock for a long time with a mixture of disgust and concern without daring to touch it or even get closer.

"It's not gonna suck itself, dude". I was starting to get impatient and I thrust my hips swinging my dick in front of his eyes.

He looked up into my eyes and then refocused his attention on the tip of my cock. He licked his lips and raised his hand to reach its base. He moved it from side to side, studying it, as if trying to decide how to begin his work. He gripped it a little more decisively, circling it completely with his fist, and finally brought his face closer, sticking out his tongue. He gave a timid lick to the tip and tasted a drop of precum that remained there. He wrinkled his face after tasting my nectar. He had a strange expression on his face as if he didn't know whether he liked what he was tasting or not. He knew he didn't have any other choice than to continue so he licked again. Clearly, he didn't want to put any more of my cock in his mouth, so he was putting off the inevitable by licking the head over and over again. The sight of him on his knees with my cock in his hand, licking it like an ice cone, along with the sensation of his tongue on my piss-slit, was turning me on so much that I forgave the delay for some time.Despite this, my patience wasn't infinite, and I wanted to see this straight buy suck a cock for the first time.

I placed my hand on the back of his head and pushed gently to let him know it was time to open his mouth and insert my member. He offered little resistance, knowing it was useless. He parted his lips, still with his tongue out, and let me insert my meat slowly. I wasn't too rough, but I continued until I felt the back of his palate. I stopped moving to see what he would do. He seemed afraid to move on his own, but after a few moments of the head of my cock staying inside his mouth, he pulled it out, pursing his lips around it. He continued making that motion, I suppose, imitating the girls who had sucked him off before. It was a clumsy technique without care and without any passion so I decided to give him some instructions.

"Dude, do it like you mean it. Suck it. Give me some suction. Move your tongue around it. I wouldn't finish you off if you don't at least try to pleasure me."

The threat of not making him cum seemed to have worked, as he began to suck my cock more vigorously. This finally caused small electric shocks to run through my cock. I decided to help him out a little and began to move my hips while continuing to hold his head and thus began to fuck his mouth. Since he had no experience, he continually grazed my glans with his teeth and coughed constantly with the saliva that accumulated in his mouth.

Little by little, he got the hang of it, and with some of my instructions, he began to imitate what he saw in porn. His hands stopped being still and he masturbated me whenever my cock wasn't inside him. So when he needed a break, he would massage my balls and rub the head of my cock with his fingers. I was beginning to feel real pleasure from his blowjob. It wasn't anything like the ones I'd received from other guys with real experience, but it was better than a handjob. I asked him to try deep throating, and to my surprise, he did so without question. Unfortunately, his inexperience became apparent as soon as the head of my cock made its way down his throat, as he gagged violently and began coughing. I decided to reward his efforts by giving him a breather.

"Do you want me to eat your ass?" I asked him while he recovered.

"Dude, that's the gayest shit I've ever heard".

"Wait. You've never had your ass eaten?", I could believe how dumb straight guys were. Depriving themselves of one of life's greatest pleasures just because it was considered gay. "You are definitely missing out, and I am extremely good at it, if you must know".

Brad weighed his options and finally decided to give it a try. I told him to get on all fours on the couch with his chest resting on the armrest. I positioned myself behind him and took in the wonderful view he was offering me. His round, muscular ass called to me like a spell. Like the rest of his body, it was also shaved and glistening from the sweat he'd generated during our blowjob session. I grabbed each mount of jock meat and separated them. My straight roommate's asshole appeared before me, hairless, winking, inviting. First I gave it a little kiss, and then i passed my tongue from the taint up making him moan and shiver with pleasure. I smile for myself. Making someone feel that good made me extremely hot, and knowing I was the first person to show him this was an ego bust. I kept licking some more to watch it react contracting with every pass of my tongue. I couldn't wait any more and I started making out with it. Brad surrendered to the pleasure he felt from the southern part of his anatomy and relaxed his muscles, which until then he had been unconsciously tensing. He began to let himself go more and more while my tongue explored and his moans became more frequent and louder. I didn't stop at any moment and continued devouring him, my tongue drilling him deeper and deeper. The force that his sphincter exerted around my tongue became less and less resistant, inviting me to enter a little deeper each time. My fingers massaged his buttocks forcefully and my thumbs got closer and closer to the center where my lips were. I began to caress his asshole with my thumbs between licks, pressing his ring stealthily. The more I massaged his anus, the less tight it seemed and the tips of my fingers slipped in a little without receiving any reaction from Brad. I took advantage of this and inserted a phalanx of my index finger. He continued moaning, so I took it as a good sign. I began to circle my finger inside his anus to open it up little by little. I continued spitting and licking around it so he wouldn't suspect what was happening. Soon I had two whole phalanxes inside him, which I could thrust in and out effortlessly. I inserted my middle finger up to the knuckle and bent it to touch his prostate, thus having him at my mercy. I found it without difficulty and began massaging it, making circles over it. He took a sharp breath and raised his head to look at me.

"What are you doing, what is that feeling?". Despite his question, I suspected he already knew what was happening.

"Calm down, man. I just want you to cum like you've never done before. Let me please you. Weren't you having a great time up until now?". I reinforced each word by squeezing his pleasure zone with my finger, making him squirm.

"But this is so gay", he protested.

"This isn't gay. This is fun. Two bros helping each other", I tried to convince him, never stopping massaging his prostate.

I grabbed his hanging dick and felt it harder than before and it was leaking like a faucet. I began to masturbate him so that he would finally succumb to my charms and stop resisting. It worked. His legs trembled with the pleasure I was giving him and a deep moan came from the back of his throat. His skin was on fire, goosebumps covered all its surface and hi was sweating as if he just ran a marathon. I licked and bit his ass rejoicing at how hot he was and how I had him at my mercy. I had three fingers buried inside him and he whimpered every time I graced his prostate.

"Brad, I'm going to fuck you". It wasn't a question. I was just giving him a heads up so he would be prepared. "If you are liking this, you are going to love what's next".

Brad took a deep breath and turned to look at me. "Do it gently, please". I got up and put the tip of my dick at his entrance. "Oh, and you will never speak about this".

I began to bury my cock little by little inside him, overcoming the resistance his worked anus offered me. Despite having been putting my fingers in and out for a while, it was a virgin asshole, so it was still incredibly tight. And how good it felt how tight it was. I had never fucked a virgin ass and I had never fucked a straight ass so I was eager to fulfill two fantasies at once. Brad was grunting and gritting his teeth, enduring the pain I was causing, as he also felt the pleasure beneath. I could see every muscle in his back and arms tense up, gripping the pillow beneath him with his fists. When I was more than halfway inside, I decided to give him a break and wait for him to get used to my girth. When I noticed his muscle tension was beginning to lessen, I pulled my cock out a little until I only had the head inside and slowly re-entered him. I continued this routine, but each time I put more of my length inside him until I finally felt my pubic bone bump against his tailbone.

I waited a second to enjoy the moment. I was balls deep inside one of the hottest guys I knew. I'd taken his anal virginity, and he was probably rethinking a lot of things about his sexuality. Psychologically speaking, I couldn't be hornier. I focused on the sensations that came from my cock. Its tight ring closed around the base of my shaft, and the rest of his rectum embraced it in a hot, wet hug. I made it jump so he could feel the hit to his prostate, and he jumped too. It was like controlling a puppet on strings.

I began to fuck him slowly while I marveled at the sight of my cock going in and out of his ass. I watched and stroked his muscular back and grabbed his shoulders to begin thrusting harder. The softness ended and I began to push energetically, making noise every time his body slapped against mine. All Brad did was moan and repeat over and over again "Oh God". I don't think his brain would let him articulate many more words. I din't try to change positions at any time because Brad could decide not to put it back in so I kept pumping. When I was pistoning in and out at full speed I noticed how my roommate looked down between his legs and stopped breathing to then take a deep sight. I felt his asshole start to contract knowing that he was cumming without touching himself. The fact that I had gotten a straight virgin guy to have an anal orgasm with my dick was too much for me and I also came deep inside his bowels.

I bent down and hugged him by the chest, still inside him. I kissed his neck and earlobe while telling him how well he'd done and how hot he was. Also, to tease him a little, I said: "You've been a bad boy. I told you I was the one to cum first".

I pulled away from him and carefully pulled my deflated cock out of his ass, watching a little of my cum ooze out. He rolled over onto his back, panting, and I could see he'd stained the couch and cushions with his cumshots. We stared at each other for a while until he spoke.

"You can't tell anyone about this, do you understand me? No one".

I laughed and went to take a shower. I was sure we'd do something similar again. Brad would probably want revenge and to fuck me in the ass. I wouldn't object. But that certainly wouldn't be the last time I'd fuck my roommate.

[steddieunderdogfics]

Everlong by Bettyfrommars

@bettyfrommars

Rating: Explicit

5.9k words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tags: 18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time

Summary:

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

This is a MOD rec as a part of our Fic Fridays.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[blue-willow-tree]

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and her going "Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined."

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and her going "There we go, that's my girl."

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and her going "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and her going "Holy shit."

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and her going "I think I'm officially addicted to you."

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and her going "This is mine. All. Fucking. Mine."

Thoughts of her slipping inside me for the first time, and hearing her whimper into my ear.

[hotwife-fling]

[kpoperotics]

A night with Yuna x male reader

Yuna, your affectionate girlfriend. She enjoys you in a way she can't even describe, it's just that it's her first time and she's a little insecure.

Yuna, your needy yet insecure girlfriend is cooking for you, cooking is one of her hobbies she loves the most. She's making dinner for you, a simple one, nothing fancy; yet she pours her heart in what she does.

You're in the bedroom, chilling out on your phone when you hear sounds coming from the kitchen, so you decide to get up and go to help her if she needed. Once you're in the kitchen you see her walking around the kitchen, grabbing whatever she needs to prepare the food while she sings softly.

"Hey, do you need help?" you ask

"OH!" she gasps suddenly

oh, my god y/n, you scared me.. please don't do it anymore..!

She sighs

"and yeah... I'd appreciate if you could help me my love"

You giggle, helping her cooking.

"you're kind for helping me.." she whispers softly

"just doing what I like, I like helping you sweetheart"

You both make food together, enjoying each other's company. Then, once the dinner is made you sit and eat. You two have quite a conversation that evening

"so, Yuna, have you done what I told you today?" you know already that she hasn't done anything you told her, but not common things like buying the milk.

"eum... I-I.. well.." she stammers "I-I..."

"you didn't, mh?" you say

She looks down. Feeling ashamed "no.. I didn't.." she whispers softly, her voice trembling and insecure

"I told you... everyday you wake up, you have to look in the mirror, stare directly into your eyes and repeat to yourself that you're worth everything, that you're loved and that you're making it through everything"

Yuna looks down in shame and sadness

"sorry.." she whispers

"don't say that" You decide to go next to her, you know how hard it is for her to do something like that and you're not going to give up on her that easily

"b-but I'm a disaster.. I can't even say a simple phrase"

You look directly in her eyes, yet your stare is soft and understanding. "Yuna..." You envelop her in your arms, a few tears roll down her cheeks

"No Yuna.. don't cry" you wipe away her tears with your thumb. "Here come with me" you grab her in your arms and carry her to the couch, you sit and she stays on top of you, sitting on your lap; with your arms wrapped around her.

She's not crying her heart out, she's just letting some tears go, the weight of her actual mental health weighing on her. "Yuna, you need to believe in yourself, just like I do, I do believe in you and you know it"

You kiss the top of her head softly, then, you look directly into her eyes. Her eyes are wet and a little swollen, making her look cuter than she usually looks

"look at this girl, it's so impossible to hate her"

She looks at you, then she looks away. She leans her ear on your heart, listening to your heartbeat. The sound soothes her aching soul as she sinks into a full state of calmness and relax

You let her hear your heart beating, knowing how much this affects her positively

"Can I ask you something, Yuna?"

"yes..?" she answers

"Have you ever thought about us?" you ask

"about... about us..? well yes, I did sometimes... why you ask?"

"just to know, you know that I often think about us, about you"

"and that's why I love you.." she say softly, leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft delicate peck

You cup her head kindly with your hands, holding her in place as you slowly deepen the kiss. In short time, the kiss is deepened, you both pouring your heart in it

Yuna snuggles her body into yours as you hold her head in such a loving way. The kiss keeps going, just that way, not deeper but not shallower. The love in the air is palpable, the affection you pour in her soul every single second of your existence healing her from inside. You softly break the kiss, looking at her, beautiful like always.

"I'm so in love with you.." she says

"and so am I, my love" you answer

It's like the time has stopped, you two look into each other's eyes while you're also holding her tiny form in your arms. But then you decide to act a little bolder and ask her "Yuna, what do you think.. are you ready to make love?"

She blushes furiously, not knowing what to say at first "n-now?"

"yea, now" you answer, caressing her hair

She looks at you, the most insecure, scared yet trustful gaze. She doesn't know what to say, if yes or no. She's never had it before. She's virgin, and the idea of having sex with you now scares her

"you're safe here, you know that? I'm not going to hurt you I know it's your first time".

She looks at you, insecure. She thinks for a while as you keep caressing her and hold her close to you, then she says "okay, I-I think I can do it.."

Her hands are shaking, you hold them and bring them to your chest, tranquilizing her.

"you're sure, mh?"

She nods softly, snuggling into you. She trusts you but she's scared "will it hurt?" she asks, "it may hurt at the first penetration"

She sighs softly in anxiety "it's okay, I'm ready to have this with you"

So after only a few seconds, you start taking off her clothes, slowly removing her bra with just a hand, allowing you to admire her tiny perfect breast.

"I'm starting, okay?"

"o-okay.." she trembles, but she knows you're not going to hurt her

You lean in and start kissing around her breast, your kisses are soft and delicate. She trembles more and she holds you tighter, she feels hot flashes as her traumas, insecurities and fears kicks in, but she doesn't want you to stop, she wants to overcome everything she's endured.

You keep going, now licking her nipples carefully. You feel her trembling and breathing quite heavily, but you keep going knowing she's fighting so good.

"You're doing so good Yuna" you say, she smiles at you.

"Keep.. I kinda like it though" she answer, and so you keep going. You lick her breast a little more, while your hands are starting to roam lower on her body.

She starts to breathe slightly heavier than usual, letting few really soft moans as you keep. She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you closer, you can tell she's quite liking this.

"I think I'm ready for more" Yuna says, her voice just above a whisper.

"Are you?" you answer.

"Yes, I am.." She says. So after she confirmed, you lie her down on the bed, making sure she's comfortable with you. You take your space between her legs, lying down on your belly and covering her thighs with your arms. You slowly and kindly start licking her folds and as you do that Yuna can't help but let out a surprised and aroused gasp. She's still where she is, too shy and embarrassed to do anything.

You take her hands in yours, making sure she feels safe besides the pleasure you know she's feeling. You keep licking her folds carefully and expertly, knowing well how to move since this isn't your first time.

Yuna moans and she tightens her grip on your hands while you give her all that pleasure. "Oh my goodness I feel something.." she whimpers, you know what she's feeling even if she doesn't

"You're coming Yuna, it's alright. You're cumming"

She looks at you, even if she can't focus at all and tries to speak something "a-am.. I.. am I what..?"

She doesn't even get to finish her sentence that her juices are all already on your tongue.

She trembles hardly and almost screams as she comes, it's the first time she feels so good, this good. She's amazed from her orgasm.

She looks at you amazed "W-wow.." you look back at her, "you liked it?"

"I loved it" she answers.

"c-can I try to... to suck your dick...?" she asks with a slight trembling voice

You chuckle and caress her softly "of course you can sweetheart".

So as you allow her, she shyly kneels down in front of you, taking off your pants with your underwear. You would have never said she was shy and bold in the same time.

She looks at it in awe, it's big and hard and even if it's her first time, she knows it's because of her. She gets closer to your shaft, looking at you with her soft eyes. "Don't be afraid, do it" you say, while stroking her head gently.

So after few seconds of her staring at it in awe, she parts her lips and takes it in her mouth, slowly, only the head first.

You watch her doing her best, and considering it's her first time, she's doing an esteemed job. She keeps going, slowly and taking more of you in her mouth. Taking her time, taking things slow; and you let her, you won't force anything.

Little by little she sucks you completely. She's now doing an admirable job, taking you deeper in her mouth. She bobs her head up and down on your shaft, making you let out a soft moan of pleasure. She's happy she's doing a great job on her first time, taking a little more of you with each bob.

"Yuna you're an absolute goddess, how can you be so talented and it's only your first time.." You moan, while she doesn't pull away from your cock, too content to do a blowjob to you like this. She bobs her head slightly faster now, her confidence growing more and more with each bob and second passing.

"Oh Yuna, yes so good.. keep going" you say, caressing her head and encouraging her to do more again. She takes a short break, maybe a second or 2 before getting back on your length.

As she resumes her blowjob, she goes a little deeper, not much, but enough to almost push you over the edge.

"Yuna, I'm close, get ready for it.." you whimper.

Yuna closes her eyes again, not knowing what she's going to have. Excited to find out, she keeps going, her eyes closed, her lips running on your cock.. and then the moment comes. You come in her mouth. Her eyes open wide and she stops there where she is, her lips on the head of your cock.. trying to pull out every last drop of your cum from your balls.

"Wow Yuna.. you certainly have a talent here.." you say, amazed from her skills.

She smiles at you shyly "T-thank you y/n" she looks at you happily "I'm glad I was good"

You smile at her back. "next time, we'll go ahead.."

She gets up and leans on you "okay" she says, happily.

...After that, you're both on the couch in each other's arms watching a movie together.

[pedroshotwifey]

Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭

Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅

Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤

Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader

Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting

W/C: 1.9k

Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.

What Matters

“Are you sure, baby?” 

Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 

“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 

You’re both lying in his bed, completely bare. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.

Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 

But what if he can’t?

You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 

It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 

But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 

“Joel?” 

His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 

“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 

You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 

He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 

“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 

His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 

It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 

“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 

“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 

You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 

Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 

“You feel so good,” you whine. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.

He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 

“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.

But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 

He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.

“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 

“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 

You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 

You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 

Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 

“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 

He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 

He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 

It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 

By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 

You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 

You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.

It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 

“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 

“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.

And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 

When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 

*****

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[aventurineswife]

Sunday had always carried himself with an air of calm detachment, but tonight, in the quiet stillness of the Astral Express, there was something different in his demeanor. The weight he usually bore with stoic grace seemed to dissolve, leaving only a man—flawed, yearning, and far too human.

The private quarters were dimly lit, the golden glow of his halo casting shifting shadows on the walls. You stood before him, uncertain but unable to look away as his gaze—those irises marked by navy pupils—lingered on you with a rare intensity. His wings twitched, feathers ruffling slightly, betraying the emotions he fought to contain.

“You don’t have to stay,” he murmured, his voice low and soft, like a breeze carrying secrets. But even as he said it, his hand lingered at your wrist, his thumb brushing against your pulse.

“And leave you like this?” you whispered, tilting your head. “Sunday… I want to stay.”

His composure faltered, and for a moment, the mask slipped. His lips parted as if to protest, but the words died before they could form. Instead, he took a slow step closer, the soft fabric of his scarf brushing against you as his proximity stole the air between you both.

“Then let me be selfish,” he said, the words trembling on the edge of a plea.

His hands cupped your face with a tenderness that felt almost reverent, his touch as light as the flutter of his wings. When his lips met yours, it was hesitant at first, like a man unsure if he deserved this solace. But as you leaned into him, matching his hesitance with quiet assurance, the kiss deepened, blossoming into something neither of you could deny.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the energy of his halo crackling faintly in the charged air. His gloves were cast aside, and the bare touch of his hands trailing down your sides sent a shiver through you. Each caress felt deliberate, a silent promise carried in every movement.

“Tell me,” he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Tell me this is real. That I’m not lost in a dream again.”

“It’s real,” you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m here, and so are you.”

His forehead rested against yours, golden eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he exhaled, his tension melting into something softer, more vulnerable. He guided you to the bed with a gentleness that spoke of a man afraid to break something precious, every touch imbued with a care that made your heart ache.

Under his touch, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you—no past, no guilt, no lingering pain. Just Sunday, unguarded and whole, and you, willing to show him he could be loved not as a symbol or savior but as himself.

And in that quiet night, amid whispered confessions and shared warmth, Sunday allowed himself to believe it.

Please don't check the tags, I'm too embarrassed at myself... 🧍‍♀️😔🙏

[navydoves]

I know we aren’t supposed to be doing this, but…

✎ᝰ summary: you’ve fallen for the enigma prince xavier and the enigma prince xavier has fallen for you. there are certain rules and expectations put into place for royals like you two, but rules are uptight and both of you want to overstep those invisible boundaries to get closer to each other.

✎ᝰ cw: first time/virginity loss for both, lowkey yearning/pining, fluff/smut, xavier is needy, xavier is a lover boy, slow burn, sensual, royals getting friskaayyy, lots of praise, no Y/N ✎ᝰ wc: 12.6k

✎ᝰ a/n: xavier is my main so i’m trying to do him justice here with my ass writing skills. a lot of the dialogue is very conversational, you'll see what i mean. also not proof read very well so pls excuse mistakes, i’ll make changes as i find them 😢

castles were dreary. people gawked at the tall spires of his home, pointing and taking pictures to preserve the moment they were graced by the presence of the philos royal family. it was laughable sometimes, how commoners and civilians revered the crown without knowing how suffocating it actually was.

yet, to xavier, he saw it as nothing more than his life duty, his reason of birth, the sole reason of his existence, it was to be suffocated. but he made do.

soldiers trained from puberty had no other direction in life than to fight and bleed, and they made do.

forgers took years to mine and quarry within deep caverns, battling off beast eating men only to go back home and scrape their fingertips off just to make weapons. no blacksmith ever complained, they made do.

even those born modestly within domestic walls and loving families sometimes succumbed to the tragedy off illness or crime but had no other choice but to make do. so xavier, born with a diamond spoon in his mouth while covered in scarfs of stain, the only heir to the philos throne, had to make do too. his life was built with the promise that he would gain great power and true nobility once his time came, and until then, the world had to wait on him hand and foot to assure that in every singular way possible, he was ready to rule. just because it was suffocating meant nothing, not when you had such security in your life. he built this mature mindset from young age, and he was often praised for his ability to suck things up and deal with it. it was an unspoken rule of being a royal. you deal, you accept, you fight, you rule, simple.

this frustrating way of living was what he had to deal with every single day of pompous life. the rest of his existence felt mundane and scripted, bound with endless vexation until he perished. and to think that would be hundreds upon hundreds of upon hundreds of years from now. but, if he never breathed in the first place, how could he become suffocated? this wasn't torture, it was normal. yet, despite it all, he started feeling differently. no revelation woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him the truth of his destiny and no mage showed up at his door to guide him on a mystical journey to find the contentment he never knew. no, it was much simpler than that; it took something much simpler to make him feel differently.

a face... a voice, a person all together. a new addition in his life that broken his monochromatic mindset and added a bit of vibrancy. people often say that someone brightened up their life when meeting someone special, but the blinding xavier could say that someone for once dimmed his vision so he could see properly. all he saw was light at the top of his tower, but slowly, his vision became less distorted as he became more grounded. your face, your voice, was what was grounding him.

from the day you met at an impromptu gala, hosted by xavier's parents to encourage liveliness in the city after prolonged battle, to you and him finally holding each other's hands away from prying eyes, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. nothing about his future or obligations changed, so it almost shocked him how easily dread left him whenever he was with you. you must be that powerful, he thought.

a familiar fluttering sensation of his heart was present every time he thought of you, and that feeling was only amplified whenever he got the chance to see you in person. letters served terrible in capturing your true eccentricity and wonder but that's all he had to live on when he could think of no excuse to invite you over. you lived several kingdoms away and the time it took to prepare travel to and fro felt unnecessary and unfair to the both of you when you had busy schedules. on top of that, neither of you wanted to let your hovering parents know that you had actually taken a liking to another royal. the drama, gossip, and rumors it could cause your families would potentially break you two apart and that was the last thing either of you wanted.

but today was xavier's lucky day, as well as yours. a few families from more isolated areas were invited to spend the next few days with the philos royal family as a way to discuss trade routes through their kingdoms. thankfully, your family was one of the few invited for the part of the week. so rather, it was xavier's lucky day for the next several days. when the news broke to him it took everything in his power to not grin widely at his parents. he was usually a stoic to them so breaking that face would cause for interest he didn't want.

behind closed doors, however, he spent his time meticulously planning out an outfit for each day you would spend in his castle. he knew your favourite colours, and whether they complimented the rich purple that was his family's colour or not, he would make it work. this was him making do, in a sense. today he wore his signature regal purple suit with blue accents, the fabric, woven from the finest silk and velvet. his tailored doublet was also rich in color and clung to his form, adorned with intricate gold stitching. he wore a low collar trimmed in blue velvet which matched the same shade of blue on his leather belt, tightened around with a gold buckle embossed with his family crest. the pants were similar in style and embraced the same regal purple, with gold stitching that went down to his noir, shiny shoes. xavier never felt the need to impress anyone until you. people were already impressed with just his presence alone, but he wanted to impress you in a way that made your eyes only look in his direction, only see him.

he fixes the collar of undershirt one last time before deciding he looked presentable enough for you. his heart had that familiar erratic rhythm that always reminded him how you've changed him, and he couldn't adore it more. with a small amount of anxiety in his stomach, he steps out his dressing room to greet the servants who patiently waited from him out in the hall. he had to shoo them away to mend himself for once.

xavier gives them a polite smile as they begin to lead him down the wing of the castle and into a neighboring wing where most social activities were held. he could already hear the gentle murmurs and small bouts of laughter that came from the several families that was gathered with his own. the flutter in his heart and the anxiety in his stomach only grew stronger as he neared the adjacent door of the ballroom and then flared when he caught a glimpse of you by your family. your family's colour was blue, there was a reason his suit had these accents today. xavier steps in and is immediately greeted by several nobles who did nothing but be pretentious in their greetings. it was second nature to humor them and mingle for a bit, but today he was less patient, more determined. he wriggled around a few families, throwing in a few shallow bows and smiles before he got up to your mother, a short woman with much indignation running through her veins. xavier gave her a much more polite, venerated greeting than anyone else that day, but it was only to find his way to you, the girl a few feet away and chatting with a king from some western kingdom. when your eyes catch his presence for a moment a tingle erupts in your stomach. god, how you waited for him. you excuse yourself from the conversation with the king and turn to xavier, fully, a shy smile growing on your lips while you bow to him. "prince xavier, i was waiting for you," you chirp.

xavier only stares for a few moments, his eyes tracing over your form and the beautiful modest blue dress you were wearing. he smiles tenderly. "drop the formalities princess," he hums, "it's just you and i here." you chuckle softly and shake your head.

"well, actually, there are several others here." "to me... it's just you and i." you blush and sigh. you always knew xavier to be a bit of a flirt but lately, both in letters and in person, he's been upping the ante and testing the waters between the two of you. you found it exhilarating. he gently reaches out and lazily caresses the side of your hand with his finger before quickly pulling back. it was the most he could do at the moment without being too obvious. "i told you to just call me xavier, nothing more." "i know... but if someone overhears our informality then... you know we can't do that with our families near." "i want to hear you call me my name, though." "later." "when is later?" "why are you so stubborn?" "because you deal with it and because you like it." you felt your mouth go still into silence at his words. both statements were true. you dealt with his stubbornness, and you also liked dealing with it. it was quite the opposite from the courteous personality xavier had with everyone else, so you almost reveled in his juvenile antics. he smirked slightly and leaned in carefully while focusing his eyes on yours. "i guess i'm right."

you turn your head to the side and away from his. his teasing proximity made a gentle heat rise up into your cheeks and the sight of your flustered state made xavier flustered himself. he pulls back and clears his throat before averting his gaze awkwardly. he wasn't sure what to say when his heart felt like it would come out of his throat, but thankfully you spoke instead. "i believe my mother and i are staying in the east wing of your castle for the week. despite my visits, i haven't seen those rooms until now." you remark while turning your gaze back to xavier. he notices your attention on him again and reciprocates. "those rooms are usually reserved for when we have guests sleeping over. since you've never actually had a visit longer than a few hours... you've just never seen those areas." you nod in acknowledgement and smile. "do you think... we'll be busy for the week?" you ask softly. xavier eyes take a hard blink at you, as if you said something incredulous, and he takes a moment to respond. "what do you mean?" "like... with the meeting on trade routes and such. since our parents do most negotiations and commerce, you think we'll be just as busy?" oh, that's what you meant, he thought. xavier rubs his lips together and considers your words in his head. his parents don't usually force him into meetings that weren't absolutely necessary. they had a good sense of trust that whatever xavier needed to do would be done-and they were usually right. although, xavier had a rather strange feeling that that trust would be more-less betrayed this week, given the beautiful distraction before him. "i hope not. i wasn't the one who called for this gathering so i'd like to play as little part in it as possible. i'd rather spend my time with you." "what if i'm always in meetings and i play a big part in the gathering?" xavier's lips twitch into a small smile. "then i guess im right there with you."

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

feasts were one very good way of welcoming people into your home, and royals knew that best. the kitchen had had already prepared a lion's den worth of meals for the day, and only that day. only the stars above knew how much time and effort they put into making fresh cuisines and delicacies for a royal's sensitive palate. they made do. xavier watched as several servants rushed out from the halls with trays of food balanced in their palms, ready to arrange them onto the oakwood tables in the dining room. he and his parents were the first to arrive to the dinner ceremony to ensure everything was up to par for a social gathering before the next few days of work. the scent of various steaming dishes filled the air of the room, which made for an invitation to anyone who walked by.

smoked salmon, vegetable terrine, roasted lamb, truffles, brie, even sparkling champagne that was harder to come by nowadays due to import issues was served. many different meals were laid out onto the three lengthy tables within the dining room, a true refined look and very warm welcome to the multiple guests. xavier's parents already took their seats at the end of two of the three tables, and xavier's seat was already designated to be at the end of the third table. but instead of sitting already, like his parents, he stood idle as he waited for the families to start rolling in for dinner, he wanted to ensure that you would sit next to him. he feigned fixing his clothes for the sake of not getting a small scolding, but that bluff didn't have to lost for long as nobles started pouring in.

chatter and distraction were already beginning but xavier had his eyes set on finding you, finding your gentle blue beauty in the midst of all the colours piling up at the door. and when his eyes finally laid on yours from across the room, he smiles. the time separated from you these past few hours since your mingling in the ballroom felt like an ache to him and just like magic, it was gone now.

and despite the various empty chairs before you, when you caught eyes with him, you automatically knew to where to sit. in poise, you walk around the other two tables with your hands delicately to your front. you knew xavier was practically staring at you but you couldn't hold such prolonged eye contact like he could sometimes. "evening," he whispers once your form was right next to his. he takes the sides of the chair next to his throne and pulls it out for you before gesturing you to sit. "this is your spot, don't leave for your mother." the straightforwardness of xavier's words already make you flush for a little bit and you could see the sudden apologetic look in his eyes. "sorry, i didn't mean that rudely. i just... would like you to be near." you laugh softly and squint your eyes at him rather affectionately. without hesitation, you took a seat in the chair he pulled out for you and then look up at him. your quietly adoring eyes made xavier feel a little weak, and it was only then he decided to sit. "no worries, i take no offense. besides, i see my mother too often and you not as often enough. i'll take advantage of the time we have together."

you look at the array of dishes splayed out in front of you on the table and suddenly feel a bout of hunger within your stomach. traveling and socializing was no easy feat and took more out of you than you would like to admit. xavier noticed the way you eyed the aromatic food before you, but he could barely manage to speak any words due to the thumping of his heart. you were so beautiful in every right. you were so colorful to him. so warm. you dimmed everything before him and forced him to only focus on you. you shifted your gaze back at xavier and immediately felt the aura of his gaze. it made you shiver but you returned it in equal. something about this prince was so enigmatic but so revelatory. with each visit you could feel yourself becoming closer and closer with him, and you wondered where the two of you were at now. "prince xavier,"

"xavier," he corrected. you purse your lips.

"prince... xavier, which one of these is your favourite dish? i feel famished if im going to be honest. i want to try your recommendations." he frowns, but points to a pot. "braised chicken. it's the hottest meal we have but the most satiating. there are spices you can try alongside if you're like me and the broth doesn't do you much good." you look toward the pot furrow your brows while refraining from a laugh. "so... it's the hottest meal you have, and you want me to try it with spices? are you trying you to get me to sweat?" you already are princess. he thinks. you and i have been both sweating since earlier. "no, i have no nefarious intentions, but you asked me for recommendations and i gave them to you. y'know, if anything, you might be the true stubborn one between us."

you let out an amused sigh and nod.

"alright, braised chicken with spices then."

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

once everyone chose a respective seat at a respective table, dinner service finally, actually began. royals weren't ones to "dig in", it was rather impolite, so they served themselves cordially and with composure, always putting the need of their elbow partner before them. you didn't need to worry about that, though, since xavier insisted on serving you himself. every cut of meat and slather of spices was done by him in his own way. small delicacies and even refills on your drinks was taken care of by his quick, knowing hands. you couldn't tell if he was trying to impress you or take care of you or both, but there were no complaints on your part. "so... you're sure it's not that spicy?" you ask while peering down at your small bowl of braised chicken with ignited broth done by the spices xavier generously added for you. "to me it's not, i enjoy the burn." "that's really not helping. i don't want to make a fool of myself if my throat gets itchy or my eyes start watering." xavier smirks at you and lets out air through his nose. why do you feel the need to care what other people think right now? you were with him, he had your full attention, and you had his. "i can help, then," he murmurs while taking your spoon and scooping up a small serving of chicken from your bowl. this would be regarded as improper and invasive from any noble, but lucky him, all of them were too engrossed in dinner. he blew on the spoon gently before moving it toward your face, down to your lips. "eat, it's good i promise." you blinked at him for a moment before nodding shyly and leaning in to take a bite. xavier domesticity almost made you forget the heat and spice of the food you were being served, but the flavors on your mouth brought you back. it did burn a bit, yes, but it wasn't as bad as you expected it to be. xavier watched your eyes light up in delight as a morsel of food finally made its way into your body. he propped his chin up on his palm and smiled with low-lidded eyes. god, he loved taking care of you. "taste good?" he asked softly. you nod quickly and pat your lips dry with a napkin.

"very good, the spices really do do a good job enhancing the flavor. wow..." you take xavier's wrist gently with your fingers and move it back down to your bowl. you smile and tilt your head with a silent question. "but... does it taste better when you feed me?" stars above, help me. "i'll do this all night if i have to. as long as you leave this room no longer so hungry."

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

pink and yellow, those were the colours he chose to wear for the second day of your visit. today his suit was one of silk and brocade, clipped to midway of his waist and fitted nicely against his toned form. the blazer itself was a soft blush colour with gold embroidery swirling in vines and delicate florals at the ends of his sleeves. his undershirt was a pale yellow with a relaxed high collar that gave him a refined, easy look. his back-pockets of his pants matched the theme humble florist with their own flowery design on them. the actual pants, though, pants were plain in light pink and had a bit wider cut today. a simple gold chain hangs from his belt loop and connects to the back, making for an eye-catching accessory. the vibe here was delicate and approachable, easygoing but elegant. he brushed down the sides of his blazer in the mirror and nodded once done scrutinizing himself. the thing about xavier was, he would spend all this time refining and polishing himself for you through his clothes but would never touch his face. he liked going bare and natural without any type of hairstyle or skin up-keep. he wanted you enjoy him in his natural state, and clothes didn't really fall into that category. unlike his handsomeness, clothes could always be altered, tailored, or discarded entirely. once satisfied, xavier turns to face the door of his empty dressing room and walks out with an air of confidence. in routine, he greets the servants out in the hall and walks with them to one of the ballrooms in the same neighboring wing he was in yesterday. the families had been split into different rooms for different topics of discussion, and he had no way of knowing if you were in the ballroom he was designated in. he could only hope.

the clamor of yesterday and the hushed conversation of today was starkly different between the families. supper was filling, and everyone quickly retired once their rest and digest reflexes kicked in. walking you back to your room discreetly felt a little magical because it was just you two, and unfortunately, the furthest xavier could go was just right outside your guest room.

even in the dim light of the evening, your gentle blue beauty and inviting silhouette still managed to tug at his heartstrings. why did he have to leave?

yet, despite his hopefulness, he couldn’t appreciate you even from afar due to your absence in his designated ballroom. the excitement bubbling in his chest quickly deflated and all that was left was a disappointed, bitter feeling. it would be unseemly to leave now, now that a few nobles within the room already noticed him began their greetings with philos's perfect prince. despite the gentle, amicable facade xavier flipped on for face sake, and despite his warm, hospitable voice, his tight smile and ridged walk gave away every bit of annoyance he felt in the moment. he took his appointed seat in the room, the white and blue throne with a golden star balanced atop of it, and barely spared a glance toward the faces in the room.

how long was he supposed to be in here, forced to socialize and talk about commerce that, frankly, he didn’t give a fuck about. “making do” was his entire existence, sucking it all up was what he was made for, but this, you, was something he could not afford to just… brush aside for the sake of it. you’re not as shallow as his royal duties, why would he ever think of sucking this up?

his thoughts almost made him stand and excuse himself to the hall but it was your sudden appearance into the ballroom that halted him from doing so. he watched you politely enter and hold quick eye contact with him before turning your attention to the other families around you. you didn’t want to make it obvious exactly why you were here alone, without your mother.

xavier’s heart thumped erratically in his ears. all sense of distress and hostility vanished from his person and all that was left was within his chest was a deep, abiding sense of fondness. he could read your intentions so clearly right now and it reassured him that you wanted him, coveted him, with the same need he had. he relaxed in his seat and watched you take your own seat across from him. the table was wide and you were far from an arm's length away from him, but he wasn't gonna complain right now. not when you clearly went out of your way to see him.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

"you were staring at me the entire time. i've come to learn you're not a discreet person, your highness." "you were the one who decided to sit directly in my field of vision, princess. why blame me when it was clearly you trying to distract me?" "i go out of my way to convince my mother to let me visit another ballroom and im met with scoldings and accusations for it. you're quite insufferable." xavier lets out a small, low chuckle at your words. he loved bantering with you like a kid, it brought him satisfaction to see how informal the two of you could get. "let's take this outside then, princess." "... you want to fight?" he did not, in-fact, want to fight. instead, you found yourself following xavier to a small, outdoor garden alcove at on the bottom floor of the castle. the roof and walls were decorated in stained glass that spilled lines of rainbows down onto the beautiful gard of forget-me-nots—your favourite flower. you gasp softly and scurry over to a batch to catch a whiff of the new blossoms. no garden you've ever seen seeded only one type of flower or crop; it was always an arrangement of various buds for both aesthetic reasons and the health of the flora. you stand straight and turn your head over to xavier with a delicate and doting look on your face.

"did you... do this for me?" xavier's tucks his chin in and looks down, he smiles to himself with shyness blossoming within his chest. he strides over to where you stood and plucked a singular forget-me-not from the row, his fingers rolling the thin stem of the flower before placing it behind your ear, nestled within the strands of your hair. "to see you smile like that, yes." xavier responds quietly as if someone else threatened to listen to his endearing words. he cups your cheek with his hand and strokes the skin there with his thumb. xavier usually wasn't this bold, but the privacy of the alcove and the growing butterflies between you two made him throw caution to the window and indulge himself in your radiance. you felt bashful, your warm neck and ears and dilated pupils gave that away, but you refused to lean aside. this was everything you wanted, and nothing could peel you away from the admiring gaze of xavier. you turn your head to the side slightly and press a very gentle kiss to the curve of his palm. the tender action caused xavier's eyes to widen search yours eagerly. this was the first kiss you've given him, and it didn't matter to him if it was quick or on his palm, you kissed him. xavier retracts his hand from your face and looks down at the skin there like you just turned it into gold. he brings his hand up to his lips and kisses the spot you just pecked while keeping his intense, devoted gaze onto you. "prince xavier..." you whisper, not sure what to even follow up with. "it's xavier, princess." xavier reaches out again and strokes your hair delicately, a smile plays on his lips. "and yes? are you surprised with how much i want you? you shouldn't be. if only i could truly show you how you meant to me..." you furrow your brows and glance down to the garden floor. you didn't want to ever assume what xavier meant because he was always too cryptic and opaque, but with each passing gesture of his, you couldn't help but feel the electricity that radiated off of him. you wondered if he could feel the heat coming off of you as well. "we're already pushing the limits of our companionship, your highness. even that... peck, it would've gotten me scandalized by the ton." "and yet, here you are, standing and un-scandalized." your worries rolled off of xavier's back like water. he couldn't care less about what scandals the two of you encountered, he only had to save face for his family. but for himself? it was starting to feel like being your companion came before being a prince.

he continues to trace the outlines of your face with his eyes before his gaze landed on your lips. what he would give to just press them against his and let you feel for yourself how anguished he was for you. but you would be against it, he knew, because you still worried about the implications of it all. you couldn't be as untroubled as xavier was, but yet, you knew you wanted the same thing he did. so when his index finger trails down your cheek and to your jaw, down your neck and over your collarbones, off to the side and then down to your hip, you didn't stop him. you shudder softly and wet your lips. "i didn't tell you earlier, but you look beautiful today," xavier murmurs while glancing down to your lips again. you choke up at how smooth his voice was. he was too fucking good at swooning you. "thank you. you look nice today as well. pink compliments you really well." xavier smiles widely at your praise. finally, you noticed the effort he put into looking good for you, but he wasn't satisfied yet. "so what, my face is hideous?" "i...i never said that!" you exclaim. he laughs. "then say otherwise." "huh?" "tell me i'm handsome, tell me how good i look princess." you stare blankly at xavier for a few moments and furrow your brows. you simultaneously wanted to indulge him but also be defiant in such a cheeky request, although he wasn't gonna let that happen. seeing the incredulity on your face, xavier squeezes your hip with a firm hand and smiles. "say it princess, ~ " he sings. you blush immensely. "you're very handsome, your highness." that's my girl.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

today he wore a fine wool and silk suit with a deep grey fitted jacket and black loose pants. the cuffs of his sleeves were also black, as well as the buttons, his shoes, and the undershirt he wore. a small red rose as nestled into the pocket of his suit, and on the outside of the pocket was a white embroidered design of his family's crest. this might've been his most cohesive outfit yet, with his shiny silver hair and all to compliment it.

unfortunately, the time spent between you two was few far and between. you had your moments of conversation and indulgence, but duty often called you away from each other and into councils neither of you cared for. the dinners, where you now only ate braised chicken with spices, and the strolls, where you both hid out in the gardens, became your daily routines and the highlight of your days.

still though, there was more to be had. you had to do everything in slight secrecy to fend off suspicion from others, but when alone, you could feel the tension simmering between the two of you. xavier especially, a man who was thought so much restraint in his life, found himself being tested time and time again. even just a little kiss, a little something could satiate him, but with nobles running around at all times... was the risk worth it? after the morning meal where your mother forced you to socialize with families she made friends with over the last few days, you left the dining room and headed off to your designated ballroom. there were treaties being drafted between certain merchants with ruling families, and the ratification process was just beginning. there only had to be one signature from each family to qualify, and for the sake of it, you would write down your family name instead of having your mother write it. but once that was done? you were home free for the day. this wasn't your kingdom, castle, and these duties weren't necessarily yours to fulfill. in fact, most "families" here simply comprised of the king and queen of that family showing up as representation for their entire kingdom. meaning, in a sense, you weren't needed as much as your mother was. once you managed to get inside the ballroom, your next objective was getting out of their as fast as possible. a little wiggle here, a small bow there, and stroke of a pen was all it took to satisfy everyone and yourself. you excused yourself from the table and readied yourself to leave the suffocating ballroom you've been trapped in for the last few days. as you reach the grand doors, though, your favourite silver-haired, dashing prince walks in with a smile. he sees you and halts, his hand coming up as a gesture asking you to stop as well. "where are you headed?" xavier asks with a slightly concerned look on his face. "i'm done with my part for the day, my mother is handling the rest." you reply, both happy you didn't have to work and resigned that you couldn't gawk at him. xavier furrows his brows and frowns. "where will you go then?" he murmurs.

"to my room, most likely, or maybe i'll take a stroll around the castle and ask the kitchen for early dessert," you tease, "why? you'll miss me?"

"yes." you're taken aback by the quickness and conviction in xavier's voice. you've never heard him speak so... assuredly of something. he steps forward and cups your face similarly to how he did the day before, except this time you retract. there were many eyes around and as much as it hurt you to dismiss him like this, you wanted to preserve what you had. xavier's hand fell slowly as the rejection settled into his chest. he felt hurt, almost a little burned that you would do that so outwardly. "princess-" "there are people around. please, i... i want to protect you and i, okay? don't take it to heart, i... i need you too." his eyes soften but he nods gently. he glances up at the others packed into the room and let out an exhausted sigh. he hated this, he hated the crown right now, everything about his regal and royal life prevented him from you and it frustrated him to no end. he can't make do with this like he's been taught, he just... can't. the irritation welling up in his chest quelled once he glanced back down and saw your reassuring look. it was like every time he felt any sort of resentment, any sour and ugly feeling, you would cure his ailment with just a smile. "please wait for me, princess. i'll be done here as soon as possible." you nod curtly. i'll wait forever. ----------------------------------------------

and wait you did. you headed back into your guest room and decided to wind down with a warm shower and a redress. the fluffy yellow dress you wore only had a few hours in the spotlight today as you stepped into the silky fabric of your loungewear dress. the midnight blue of the slip fit comfortably and hugged just enough to secure. there were thin, adjustable straps on your shoulders that lead to a subtle V-neckline with a delicate lace trim. the fabric is smooth and lightweight, which is just what you liked when you had these rare moments of doing nothing all day. the slip dress itself went down to about mid-thigh, but the black robe you wrapped on top of it went down to just below your knees for modesty. the combination of your warm shower, breakfast still in your stomach, and the loungewear conditioned your brain into exhaustion. the soft-felt was right there and you couldn't help but climb atop of it and take a rest. a rest that would last several hours. when you stirred away and checked the time on the clock on the nightstand you almost jumped out of your skin. it was a quarter past ten (10:15) and you had slept the whole day away. your first thought was immediately about xavier. had you made him wait? was he looking for you? maybe he walked in on you sleeping and decided to let you rest? you felt an immense amount of guilt and regret hit your chest and you fly off the bed. screw it this, screw it all, you thought while putting on your slippers. all these meetings and treaties and debates and councils and everything had tired you down to the point of hibernation, and it directly caused you to neglect the limited you had with xavier. you rush to the door of your room and open it to peek out into the hall. the lights on the ceilings were dimmed which was the castle's indication that activity was dying down and the royal family was already retired. you let out a defeated sigh. how could you be so negligent? he asked you to wait for him and you didn't. you didn't wait for him, and over a pathetic reason too. before you could wallow in self-pity, your stomach made its own thoughts clear. you hadn't eaten since morning. your body felt a bit weak from the lack of food and you knew you couldn't go back to sleep like this. not with this amount of guilt weighing you down anyway. you sigh and step out your room and walk down the hall to try and find a servant or maid to help you out in you scavenge. your feet were slow and dragged out behind you but you soon near one of the kitchens within the wing you were in. before you could step in, a shiver runs up your back and immediately you sensed someone's prescene. "princess!" xavier's voice yelped from not far behind. he scurried down the ballroom he came out of and toward your direction with a hurting look on his face. you follow the same and rushed toward him with guilt plastered on yours. "im so sorry!" "im sorry!" you both yelp out an apology. you take a step back and knit your eyebrows together. "w...what are you apologizing for?" you asked. "i left you, im sorry. i told you i'd come to see you soon but my parents wanted to me stay with the families until all the treaties were signed. it took, all. damn. day. im so sorry." your mouth was a little agape upon hearing his words. the confused look was then reciprocated by xavier. "wait, why are you apologizing for?" "i... i told you i'd wait for you, but i ended up sleeping all day after i left the ballroom. i thought that maybe you didn't want to disturb me and left. i... felt so guilty." the both of you look at each other in astonishment for a few long moments. xavier was the first to crack with a soft laugh that progressed into a hearty one. you continued to stare up at him, evaluating the absurdity of the situation you two created for yourself. "so... we just... both lived today feeling guilty?"

xavier stops laughing for a moment and smiles adoringly at you. his eyes shone down at you with an almost childish glee. your unmoving expression only added to his amusement. you were everything his heart needed.

"that's how i know you're meant for me."

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this was your third bowl of braised chicken with spices tonight. finding you in the hall at that precise moment was serendipitous for the both of you. not only for the matter of clearing the air and expelling guilt, but also for the fact that xavier could request the leftovers of meals from supper. he brought you back to your room and finally fully stepped inside with you. with his parents asleep, the visiting families in their rooms, and staff also retired, it was just you two.

xavier did more than just step in, actually, he made himself comfortable. you were sat on the edge of your bed eating and he pulled up a chair beside you, not wanting to invade the intimate space of your bed. he watched you eat with tender eyes as you explained your side of the story for the day, and you did the same as he complained about the exhaustion that overcame him in the ballrooms.

"i still am sorry, my prince," you frown while putting down the bowl on the bedside table, "i broke our promise unknowingly, regardless." xavier smiles warmly shakes his head.

"so did i," he hums, "i wanted to see you within the hour you left but well… here we are. we're both a little guilty, yeah?" you laugh softly and shake your head. "no need to apologize then princess, we're even."

your body tilted down toward his and his body leaned up toward yours, a shared warmth flourished between you two at that moment. the room was quiet and bathed in the cool glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains. neither of you turned on the lights when you first walked in because this dim atmosphere was so comforting.

xavier reaches up and strokes your cheek softly with the back of his fingers. he adored your bare face, so youthful and soft to the touch without any product on it. you nuzzle into his touch and giggle softly. he rises from his chair, now towering over you while you were still sitting, and he moves to stand in-between your legs. you lean back slightly to invite him in, and he takes that invitation. his other hand moves to your back and pushes you closer to his form so that your chest was pressed against his abdomen. you felt your heart quicken at the intimacy of every move.

"prince-"

"xavier," he corrects, "i've told you to call me xavier repeatedly for the last few days and you haven't once. it's just us now, no one here to scare you from indulging me, princess. it's xavier."

"… xavier," you whisper out in a breathless voice.

"say it again," he murmurs while sliding his hand down to the small of your back and pushing you closer.

"xavier," you repeat.

"again." he takes his other hand out from your hait and places it underneath your thigh.

"xavier."

"one more time." he pushed your leg up and tucks in your back to make you fall onto the bed behind you. his hand moves up and down your thigh slowly while his other one, now off your back, cups your waist.

"ah… xavier."

he grins widely and leans his head down to nuzzle into your neck. while his outside demeanor may seem composed or even confident, internally he was a wreck. what was he doing right now and why did it feel so good? he felt so nervous that maybe he was pushing the boundaries between you two, but you neither fought back nor complained.

he peppered a few kisses in the crevice of your neck and then moved them down to your collarbones. you brought your hands up slowly to his head of hair and threaded your fingers into his locs. you felt a rush of something new, something you hadn't felt before, come over you. you glance down at xavier and see him already peering up at you.

"are you okay?" he asks tentatively, a nervous tinge in his voice.

"yeah, i'm alright. just…" you hesitate. you knew you two shouldn't be doing this, you knew it was a major violation of royal court rules. un-betrothed, un-courted royals were not allowed to be intimate by any means. if a royal wanted to become intimate in any way, the fastest way was to have an arranged marriage with a willing partner. but none of those circumstances applied to the two of you, which was incredibly scandalous. "… just continue." but you didn't care.

xavier almost lost his mind right there. he almost couldn't believe what you just said but the fond look on your face reassured him that he wasn't going insane.

oh god. oh… god.

xavier moves his hand from your waist to your abdomen where the tie to your robe was knotted at. he looks up to you for permission before slowly undoing it. the tension in the air was thick as both of you wondered just how far this was about to go. the robe fell to your sides and revealed the midnight coloured silk loungewear that you still had on.

xavier's pupils dilate as he takes in the beauty of your form. shocks of arousal went through his body, all pooling in a rather indecent place. he carefully takes the robe off your arms and puts it aside to fully appreciate your figure.

"i can't even describe what i'm feeling right now, you look unbelievable."

xavier's words immediately make you breathless. you've been revered by countless amounts of people in your life but nothing compared to the veneration he was giving you right now. you pull him down closer and nudge your nose against his affectionately.

"xavier."

"yes, princess?

"can you kiss me?"

"yes, princess."

without hesitation he presses his lips against yours and groans into your mouth. you reciprocate with a whine as you both share you first kiss. not just your first kiss with each other, but the first kiss both of you've ever had. it felt better than you expected, probably because the man you were sharing this experience with was someone you adored.

instinctively, your body arches up against his and his body presses down against yours. every time one of either of you pulled back for a breath, the other leaned back in for more. the kiss was juvenile and inexperienced but also heated and needy. nothing else in the world mattered anymore.

and for the first time in a long, long while xavier felt his cock twitch in his pants and start growing into an erection. he had gotten erections when he was younger purely out of hormonal changes, but never out of arousal. despite his age, this was a first for him and it felt so good to need you like this. the heat pooling in between your legs was also a first for you. you could feel a deep throbbing within you that could only be relieved by squishing your thighs together to create friction.

you push xavier back and whine. you weren't sure what you needed more, him or air.

"you look so beautiful like this," xavier giggles, "look at you, so flushed and pretty." he moves his hands up and down your hips with the intent to feel the curves and fullness of your body. his cock was now full erect and painfully pressed up against his grey pants, making an obvious imprint there. you shudder under his touch and close your eyes to savor the warmth of his large hands over your body, slowly rocking your hips up for more. he watches you undulate and moans. there was something so unbelievably erotic about the way you silently begged for more from him with your body. he steadies your hips and smiles. "princess, can i..." he trails off, unsure of how to verbalize his need. instead, he gently lifts your pliant body and turns you to be on your hands and knees on the bed. before you could sputter out in embarrassment, he hugs your form from atop and presses his hips flush against yours, earning a small gasp from you. "xavier," you yelp, "you're...?" he smiles. "erect, yes. what else did you expect my princess? i'm so excited for you and i've never felt this was before." he pushes his hips against yours again but this time a little harder. you could feel the stiffness and heat of his cock grind into your backside. this level of brazenness was something xavier couldn't even explain himself - in fact he was a little afraid of it. he didn't know what he was doing, really, he just moved in a way that felt natural.

"t...that feels so good," you say as you arch your hips up for him like a cat in heat for the first time. your unintentional words of reassurance make xavier groan and encourage him to keep going. he presses against you over and over again until both of you are mewling messes for each other. you could feel your heart thump erratically both in your chest and in-between your legs where arousal built. "ngh... ah... feel good, princess? i want to - ah - make you feel everything you make me feel. i want to give - mngh - pleasure to you." "y...you already are. i have the same desire, - ngh - i want to make you feel good. but it's just... what if we get caught? what if - " "we won't," xavier hisses. "i don't want you to worry like this, not when you're with me. i should have your full attention, not anyone else." he wraps his arms around your waist and fully presses his front against your back. his lips come 'round and press little teasing kisses down your lobe and to your neck. "we don't have to do anything further, we can just stay like this, but please, just focus on me."

xavier's almost whiny voice causes the aching between your legs to throb harshly. you've never seen him be such a mess, but you also have never been such mess yourself. you lift your arm up and wrap it around xavier's head and pull his lips against yours. he takes this as encouragement and thumps his hips harder against you with newfound confidence. too caught up in the moment, you don't even notice his trailing hand that lands right on your navel. "may i...?" he mumbles against your lips. you nod. he slides his hand further down to your thigh and then back up underneath your nightdress. he feels the lace of your panties and almost implodes realizing that he was going to touch you there and you let him. his fingers tease around the edge of your underwear and occasionally slide in to feel your bare hips. every touch he makes causes his aching cock to pulsate in anger for the fact that it hasn't been stimulated yet, but he put you first before everything. your breath hitches once you feel his finger finally graze against your soaking mound. you both let out a groan. "so wet..." he mumbles. the pads of his middle and ring finger gently trace around your pussy lips and folds. he wanted to commit this feeling to memory, the first time he's ever touched you. pleasure you've never experienced before wells up in your body and slowly, you feel your mind going hazy with lust. the explicit books you've read don't compare to the actual feeling of being pleasured. you can't believe this is what you've missed out on. you grab xavier's other hand and move it to your chest over one of your breasts. you felt him squeeze the plushness there almost immediately. his lips find your neck again which add to the symphony of bliss you felt. he was servicing you in every section of your body and he loved it. he loved, loved taking care of you. "i know i'm not yours yet through the court, princess, but i'm yours in every way that matters. i want to service you, make you feel good, take care of you until i physically can't anymore." "w...who cares about the court? ngh - they keep me a...away from you. you have - mngf - my devotion." "then don't let another man hear these sweet sounds, princess. don't let another man touch you or love you the way i do. i want to be yours, wholeheartedly." "only i...if you promise not to let a...another woman be - ahh - with you like this, xavier." "i wouldn't dream of it." xavier stops his fondling for a moment to flip you onto your back. he climbs the bed and smiles down at you before immediately ditching the grey suit. he throws it aside haphazardly, not caring about its maintenance, and leans down to your body. his loving kisses pepper your face causing you to giggle softly. you push him back to playfully scold him but the lovey-dovey look on his face makes your words disappear. "i really can't believe i'm yours," he whispers while continuing his worshipful kisses. "my beautiful princess, you've got me so worked up the last few days i didn't know what to do." his hands move back to your wet center, determined to coax more of those sweet sounds out of you. "and you think i've been doing great?" you retort softly while griding yourself against xavier's fingers. "i've been denying myself such simple pleasures out of fear and now i can't hold back anymore." xavier's eyes soften.

"i don't want you to hold back anymore," he whispers, "i want you to take as much of me as you want until you're satisfied. i'll give you everything. even if it brings me to tears, i will give you everything." before you could respond xavier's fingers deftly hook into your panties and pull down. he does it slowly and looks up at you occasionally to make sure you're okay, to make sure he isn't being selfish. once completely off, he lifts up your nightdress to your hips and just... stares. you hear a small noise come out of him as he revers your most intimate part. his thumb strokes the pubic hairs on your pussy while occasionally bumping into your swollen clit, making you whimper. "d...don't stare!" you exclaim in sheer embarrassment.

"why not? i won't be able to see this again for a while." you sputter at his implication and boldness. but it was when his head moved down toward your folds with a clear intention that really left you breathless. "wait!" you pull his head back. "don't do that either!" he laughs softly at the apprehensive look on your face. "why not? people do it all the time. i want to know you in every sense of the word, including knowing your taste." "but that's... unsanitary...?" even you felt unsure in your words. you weren't dirty, you wore new, clean clothes all the time. you took care of your hygiene almost meticulously and you weren't bleeding. denying yourself this pleasure would be a disservice to your aching, ready body. but letting yourself indulge came with the risks of getting hooked. "just a little kiss and lick?" xavier pouts. he moves his head down again and hovers over your pussy with a needy look. he gave you plenty of time to move him away and reject his offer again but when you averted your gaze and lifted your hips up for him, he almost cheered. he presses his soft lips against your clit and laps at it like a puppy thirsty for water. a little kiss and lick weren't enough for him, and he believed it wasn't enough for you either. you deserved more; you deserved everything he had to give. in his mind, the girl who broke his shell and taught him what love was deserved his every breath. to him you tasted like your scent; warm vanilla mixed with a more fleshy, salty feminine musk. a determined man like him needed to ensure this, though. maybe you had hints of jasmine or amber in you, maybe there was more sweetness waiting for him at the end of his road. your hands find purchase in xavier's head of hair and despite your earlier protests, you push him further into your pussy. at this point, your folds were creamy and dripping from pure and utter excitement, which made for a great drink on xavier's part. he delves in deeper with an eager and untrained mouth, sucking and kissing your clit and circling his tongue (as best as the poor boy can) over your clenching entrance. you almost orgasmed right there but you pulled xavier back from in-between your legs to prevent it. "ha.... hah.... x..xavier! you said just a little ki...! i need to - hah - catch my breath." xavier's head was in a haze but he wore a big goofy smile on his glistening lips. "you taste so sweet, though. i wanted to be a good prince and finish my meal." xavier giggles at the astonishment present on your face. he was so teasing and provocative in a way you would've never guessed, and even if you did like it, you wouldn't admit it. but even if you were taken aback by every other word he said, his glossy lips made evidence to just how much he adored you. willing to dive headfirst for your pleasure and even still whining for more. your eyes trailed down to his aching erection and immediately you felt the need to reciprocate. what did xavier taste like? what did he feel like in your mouth? you wanted to know just as badly as xavier wanted to go back into your beating pussy. you reach out and trace your finger over the imprint of his cock through his pants. xavier shuddered and pushed his hips forward to entice you, a small smile on his face.

"like it? want to see it?"

you nod instead of verbally responding, too shy to voice your newfound desires. xavier felt anxious showing himself to you. he anxious about your judgement, which was a rarity given his position as a respected prince. he usually was the one inflicting judgement on others, not the one fearing it.

you prove to me every day how much you've changed me, princess. xavier unfastens the buckles of his belt and slides it out of its loop, then shakes off his pants to the side. he inches closer to you and hovers over your anticipatory self. he moves his hand to the tent of his boxers and rubs himself gently while letting his eyes roam over you. "can i take off the rest of your nightdress?" "can you take off your top and boxers?" xavier smirks at and nods. he unbuttons his undershirt and slides it off with ease, putting it aside with his other clothes, then looks down at his boxers. he moves even closer and leans his head against yours, nudging your cheek with his nose while touching himself. you could feel the anticipation simmering you two, electric and overwhelming. he reaches into his boxers and grabs his throbbing cock, slowly taking it out of its confinements. he groans once its fully out to scrutinizing your gaze, and you let out a whimper at just the sheer sight of him.

his cock stood tall and proud, arching into his abdomen while covering itself in streaks of pre-cum. he was swollen with need which made you eager to please him even more. tentatively, you reach your hand out and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock which makes xavier tilt his head back in pleasure. he groans as he feels your slow pumping and squeezes on him even though each movement was met with hesitation. while you continued your strokes, your head leaned in closer and closer in attempts to satisfy your curiosity. you let your hand fall for a moment and prepare to take his length into your mouth when xavier quickly pins you back onto the bed upon sensing your intention. your eyes widen in surprise and fear, wondering if you did something. "w...what?!" you squeal. "i don't... i don't want you to do that. i... i want to be the one servicing. i don't want you to do something like that for me." "i...want to make you feel good, though"

xavier smiles tenderly at you.

"you already make me feel good, but i know what you mean. just for today, i don't want you to do it, okay?" "but i want to taste you."

xavier smiles tenderly at you. he moves his hand down to his aching cock and slides his index and middle finger down his creamy shaft and then brings it up to your lips. "taste, then." you felt a shock of arousal hit your body at xavier's eroticism that you could hardly believe he was an inexperienced celibate like you. happily, though, you lean forward and take his fingers into your mouth and moan upon tasting the salty sweetness of his desire. he watches you suck eagerly and move as if you were pleasuring his cock, bobbing your head up and down and enveloping your tongue around his fingers. the sight was too much to bear for him and he lunges forward into a heady kiss. his fingers slide from your mouth as the two of your whine and whimper into against each other's lips. he wastes no time peeling off your nightdress from your undulating form, starting with undoing the strings on your back and pulling it over your head. he finally pulls back from the kiss and stares down at your bare form underneath him. his eyes go from your soft, plush breasts down to your tummy and of course your wet core. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, "beautiful doesn't even describe you. what am i gonna do with you?" "touch me." "with pleasure." he moves his head down to your collarbones and starts a line of kisses down in-between the valley of your breasts. he cups both of them with each hand and rolls his thumbs over your nipples to coax them into peaks. he watches you fondly as your expression contorts in pleasure from his ministrations, giving him a confidence boost. "i like these," he mumbles, referring to your breasts. "yeah?" "yeah. they're soft and squishy, perfect to just play with. do you ever play with them?" an awkward smile appears on your incredulous face. "uh, sometimes? like when i'm in the shower or when i'm bored. my dresses usually get in the way of anything getting in so..."

"if i was a girl, i would be playing with mine all the time. it's very comforting."

you furrow your brows at him and laugh softly at his honesty. you move your hands up to his pecs and squish them playfully in the same manner xavier was touching you. "how does this feel then?" you giggle. "feels like i'm being fondled by a pretty girl. mine compare nothing to yours, though. bet yours taste nice too."

xavier moves down to your hardened nipples and wraps his lips around them with swiftness. you feel him suckle and moan on your skin like a man starved. he continues the same ministration on your other nipple, suckling and groaning with need until he decides to pop off, a large smile on his shining face. "mm, yeah, tastes amazing." you playfully hit his arm which erupts a small giggle from him, causing your heart to flutter. xavier, at the end of the day, is just as silly and childish as the day you met him. and no matter how good his stoic facade is to those around him, you knew him as someone much, much different. something about his smile flames a desire inside of you. not one so much of lust but more of a need for connection. pushing royal rules was something everyone did here and there, completely breaking them was treason. it told everyone you had no restraint, no moral compass, that you are blinded by lust and desire and that you couldn't be loyal to your crown. maybe they were right, because right now you wanted to be loyal to xavier more than any throne in the world. "xavier, i need you," you whisper suddenly. he leans down immediately and presses a kiss to your temple. "i'm right here, my princess."

you press your hands onto his hips and move them down a bit to nestle his hard cock against your thigh. "i need you."

xavier's eyes widen slightly. he wasn't sure from the beginning if this was how far you two would go, given how anxious you were about the risks of doing so; but despite how scary sex could be for a someone like you - both a virgin and a princess - you looked at ease and assured in your words. "princess..." he whispers, "i know we're not supposed to be doing this but... i need you too."

"i don't care anymore. i want you more than i've ever wanted anything in my life." xavier chuckles and presses another kiss to your temple. "well when you put it like that, there's no way i can hesitate."

knowing you needed more preparation, xavier shifted your legs up to your waist and probed you for a few minutes before inserting a singular finger. he watched as his digit was engulfed by you the entire way and he also watched your twisting expression to ensure you were okay. it hurt a bit, obviously, but he was gentle and patient. slowly, he worked you up to two fingers and then three. it only felt uncomfortable because your muscles there were unused and inexperienced with penetration, but xavier did everything right. "you're so tight, starlight. can you relax a bit for me?" he whispers while pressing kisses down your belly. you nod and try to calm your jittery body down with deep breaths, earning an encouraging kiss from xavier. "that's it, just like that. you're doing so well. i can feel you loosing up a bit," he praises. you smile and continue breathing until you felt ready enough to move on. you look down at xavier and cup his face with a gentle hand. what a beauty you had with you. "i think i'm ready." "are you sure? there's no rush." you smile. "i'm sure." xavier nods and moves up your body so that your hips and his were pressed up against each other. he grabs his cock at the base and gently slides it in-between your pussy lips to gather your arousal and nudge your clit teasingly. after a few moments of silent rubbing, he shifts his cock a little lower and positions himself your entrance. he presses repeated kisses to your cheek as he very slowly pushes into you. you immediately tense up but the coos of xavier's voice help you relax again. "i'm a bit in, are you okay?" "y...yeah," you shudder, "feels weird but i want more." he continues pushing in and out, in and out until you took more and more of him with each passing minute. despite this being a major turning point in your relationship and lives, both of you stayed rather quiet from how attentive you were being to each other.

xavier felt how your body was slowly accepting him with each shallow thrust, so he took a slight risk. he pushes in again but this time with the intent to go deeper than before. you tense up again and immediately he comforted you. "it's okay, you're okay. tell me if it's too much." "im okay, im okay. it's just... an uncomfortable feeling, but it's starting to go away." "it's starting to go away?" he repeats with a smile. "then let's get the hard part out of the way, yeah? im gonna go deeper again but stop me if it's too much." you nod and wrap your arms around xavier's back for comfort. his cock slid out of you again and with gentle force, he pushes in even deeper causing you both to groan. you felt a shock of pain and pleasure within your legs but refused to stop at this point. xavier, on the other hand, was trying his best not to cum already. he stilled within you and whimpered softly as he forces himself to calm down before he orgasmed prematurely. sweat beads on his forehead and falls down onto your chest. "oh god, you feel so, so good. 'm seeing stars... ngh." before you could say anything, he slides out of you again and presses back into the same spot within your walls, causing you to arch off the bed and cry out. while there was still a pain within you, it was numbing off into an aching sense of pleasure. you scratch xavier's back as more cries fall from your lips while he continues to go in and out, hitting a bit deeper each time. "oh... xavier... xavier... xavier...!" "i love you, i love you, i love you."

as much as you wanted to see xavier's face, you had to clench your eyes shut from the pressure on your body. your nails continue to mark xavier from the back which only urges him to soak himself deeper within you. "yes starlight, scratch me, mark me, make me yours." he gasps out. every movement he made was a battle with his body to not lose himself inside you right then and there. xavier had experienced countless battles, training grounds, injuries, debates, a myriad of hardship; but nothing was as difficult as simply trying not to cum in you right now.

"xavier," you whine, "xavier, it f..feels good now. i feel like im losing my mind." "lose it princess, lose it with me."

he moves a hand down to your hips and lifts them slightly to get a better angle within you, while the other goes over your clit and stimulates you further. you gasp at the dual stimulation and feel an unfamiliar heat slowly coil within your navel. "xavier, i love you too. i didn't say it earlier, but i do. i love you so much. i love you with everything i have." xavier's pace falters the moment he hears your reciprocated confession. truth be told, he was refraining from cumming by just those words. he smiles endearingly and leans into your face and presses a singular kiss to the tip of your nose. "princess, can i come in you?" he asks softly, his voice now devoid of struggle. you glitch at his ask but before you could answer he continues. "you leave tomorrow, right? i want you to take a part of me before you go. i want it to be with you on your journey back. may... i?" with the way xaiver was asking you with his sweet, tender voice and his adoring eyes, you would've given him a baby if he asked. oh wait. "yes, please do." the elation on his face was almost indescribable, you wanted to laugh. he shifted out of your again and then pushed back in until your pelvis met his. this was the deepest he’s gone in so far and you could feel how his cock curved up into you and nudged against your walls. you felt that final push and cried loudly. you lift your legs to wrap around xavier’s hips while he pressed kisses to your cheek to comfort you. at this point you were attached to his body like glue and you weren’t planning on letting go.

“oh stars above,” he groans, “i fit so perfectly in you princess, yeah?” xavier presses another kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop of your head. “you’re all nice and snug, i want you to trap me in you so you don’t have to go tomorrow.”

“y…you’re crazy.”

xavier smiles and wraps his arms around your chest. he pulls out again only to sink into you once more. each thrust was no longer as slow and methodical, instead they were getting sloppy and getting slightly faster with each thrust. he still paid attention to your cues and noises to ensure that you weren’t uncomfortable, but he needed to give you an orgasm that satisfy you every pent up need.

one arm moves from under your body and goes down to your aching clit. his fingers circle and rub you there until your bud was perking with pleasure. seeing and hearing how much each ministration was pleasuring you, he moves his head down to one of your breasts and latches onto a nipple to suckle once more. the triple stimulation on your body was too much to bear and in a matter of moments you felt that earlier coil in your stomach start to unravel.

“x..xavier! i feel weird… i think im gonna…!” you gasp and clench onto his body as if you were preparing for the worst.

“t…that’s my girl, let go. i’ve g..got you. you’re gonna squeeze an orgasm an out of me too.”

you squeeze your eyes shut and lock your legs tighter around xavier hips. the next thing you knew, you felt a hot flash down your body that converged in-between your legs and bursted with great force. you almost screamed but xavier ate up your cries with soothing kisses as his own orgasm welled up and tipped over within you. he feels the throbbing of your clit and the tightening of your pussy around his cock, milking him for what he’s had stored up for years.

your first, and his first, orgasm.

xavier’s heavy balls coil up as his cock paints the inside of your sweetness with an intense load of cum. tears fall from your eyes, your body twitched with overstimulation, you felt your mind going numb from how overwhelmed you were, but you didn’t regret a single moment of it. xavier whimpers your name out as his cock spurts out the last few gushes of cum within you. the feeling of something so sticky and hot inside your pussy was incredibly weird but you felt a strange sense of contentment at how full you were.

“i love you so much, don’t leave me. stay here with me.” xavier whispers in a small voice as his body stills within you. he waited patiently for you to calm down before pressing more kisses to your face.

“you…you know i can’t do that,” you reply in a struggle. your body felt exhausted from the exertion but you were still attentive to xavier.

“i know.”

xavier nestles his head underneath your chin and holds you gently and you reciprocate with an embrace around his neck. there was a bittersweet silence between you two. maybe more sweet than bitter for you and maybe more bitter than sweet for xavier. the ache and pain in you went ignored as you prioritized focusing on xavier over anything else in the moment. you couldn’t properly see his face and the dim room made it hard to see his body clearly, but you could tell he was upset.

you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and rub your nose there affectionately. usually you would tease him about acting like a little baby but humor felt misplaced here. your heart ached but you weren’t sure what to say to comfort him. so instead, you say the one thing you could think of and truly mean.

“i love you, xavier.”

“i love you more.”

a/n: i’ve literally slaved away writing this lowkey, but i enjoyed it. sorry if the second half of this seems lackluster, i was slowly going insane from how much i was writing and i needed it to be DONE WITH. anyway xavier for life 💜

[yumyumpod]

Watching The Expanse: One Ship for the first time: Win or Lose

[darkintothedawn]

FIRST TIME... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Male reader

Summary — Some headcanon style things for Stiles' first time with you

Memo— Going back to my roots with this one

Word Count — 2744

Masterlist | Stiles' Adventures

bf!Stiles who was already obsessed with you before you even started dating, but now that you're his? He’s insatiable. Touch-starved in a way that should be embarrassing, but he doesn't care. He’s constantly got his hands on you—tugging you closer by your belt loops, squeezing your thighs when you sit next to him, fingers slipping under your shirt to feel your bare skin whenever he can get away with it.

bf!Stiles who acts all cocky when he’s kissing you, smirking against your lips like he’s in control, but the second your fingers tangle in the short fuzz of his buzz cut and tug, he whimpers—genuine, needy, hips jerking forward instinctively.

bf!Stiles who likes it when you play rough with him, even if he pretends otherwise. Pretends he’s the one running the show, but the way he groans when you nip at his throat, the way he shivers when you squeeze his wrists together above his head? Yeah. He’s not fooling anyone.

bf!Stiles who gets you alone in his room for the first time, the buzz of his old ceiling fan the only sound aside from his ragged breathing, hands shaking as they trace down your stomach, mapping out every inch of you like he’ll never get another chance. His gaze flicks up to yours, pupils blown wide, and he mutters, “Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t think I can stop once we start.”

bf!Stiles who talks a big game, but the first time he’s inside you, he’s gone—moaning, gasping, forehead pressing against yours as he stutters out, “Holy shit, holy shit, you feel so good—” like he’s never felt anything like it in his life. Because he hasn’t. And the way your ass squeezes around him, the way your cock twitches against his stomach with every thrust, makes him genuinely dizzy.

bf!Stiles who meant to go slow, really, but the heat of you, the squeeze, the way you look underneath him—he loses control embarrassingly fast, hips snapping up into you harder than intended, muttering apologies against your neck but not stopping. Not even when he feels your nails dig into his back, not even when he hears you whimper from the force of it, not even when he knows he’s about to cum too fast.

bf!Stiles who whimpers when he cums, not the cute little ones, but wrecked sounds, overwhelmed, body shuddering as he spills inside you, arms barely holding himself up. His whole body tightens, locks up, the last few stuttered thrusts just raw need as he fills you up.

bf!Stiles who gets addicted to it. To you. He barely catches his breath before he’s pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, shifting his hips, already hardening again.

bf!Stiles who loves the idea of marking you. He’s got a thing for biting—your throat, your shoulders, your thighs, anywhere his mouth can reach. Loves the way you squirm when he sinks his teeth in, the way you groan when he sucks bruises into your skin. And he definitely loves seeing them the next day, hidden under your clothes, knowing he put them there.

bf!Stiles who cries when he’s overstimulated, cheeks flushed, body trembling, hips jerking up helplessly even as he whines, “Can’t—fuck, can’t, but I need to—please, let me—” voice breaking on the words. His cock is red, aching, still sensitive from the last time, but he needs it—needs to be inside you, needs to cum again, needs to feel your ass squeezing around him until he’s sobbing into your shoulder.

bf!Stiles who grips your hips so tight you’ll be bruised, who watches the way his cum leaks out of you and groans, low and desperate, running his fingers through it like he can’t believe he did that, that you let him.

bf!Stiles who fucks like he needs it, like he’ll die if he doesn’t, chasing his high with frantic, hungry thrusts, hands never still, never satisfied with just one part of you. One hand gripping your jaw, the other slipping down your stomach, wrapping around your cock just to feel you twitch in his palm.

bf!Stiles who gets off on making you cum first. The way your cock pulses, the way your whole body tightens, the way you shudder under him—that’s what drives him crazy. And if you moan his name when you do? If you beg for him while you’re falling apart? He’s gone.

bf!Stiles who loves fucking you from behind, loves the view, loves how deep he can get, loves watching his cock disappear inside you over and over. He’s always gripping your hips tight, pulling you back onto him, moaning when he sees his cum from last time still slicking your hole.

bf!Stiles who would rather die than be caught crying, but after the third round, when you’re just as desperate, just as greedy, he’s pressing his face into your shoulder, voice cracking as he gasps, “Oh my god, oh my god—” like he’s unraveling from the inside out.

bf!Stiles who makes you keep his cum inside you after, pushing it deeper with his fingers and watching you squirm, grinning through his exhaustion, whispering, “Just for a little, baby, just wanna see it.”

bf!Stiles who, once he’s fucked out and satisfied, gets so clingy after. Whining when you try to get up, dragging you back down with lazy hands, pressing his face into your neck. “Five more minutes,” he mumbles, already half-asleep, holding onto you like he never wants to let go.

bf!Stiles who drapes himself over you, arms wrapped tight around your waist, his bare chest warm against your back. He’s still breathing heavy, heartbeat erratic, skin damp with sweat, but he doesn’t care—he just presses closer, lips brushing over your shoulder as he mutters, “You’re not leaving. Not yet.”

bf!Stiles who keeps shifting against you even though he’s exhausted, hips rolling lazily, cock soft but still sensitive where it rests against your ass. You can feel him twitch every time you move, and when you shift just a little too much, he whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Stop,” he huffs, but his fingers are digging into your hip like he doesn’t actually want you to.

bf!Stiles who rubs slow, absentminded circles into your skin, his palm tracing up your stomach, over your chest, fingertips ghosting across your nipples before sliding back down again. He’s not even trying to start something—it’s just instinct, like he needs to touch you, to remind himself that you’re real, that you’re his.

bf!Stiles who loves how warm you are after, how your skin is still flushed from everything you’ve done, how you’re all soft and pliant beneath his touch. He presses a lazy kiss to the back of your neck, mumbling something incoherent, something that sounds a lot like “so perfect, fuck.”

bf!Stiles who groans dramatically when you finally push at his chest, trying to untangle yourself from him. He’s clingy, arms tightening around you, trying to keep you in bed. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” His voice is rough, low from overuse, but his grin is lazy, smug. “I literally just rearranged your guts, you can’t even walk yet.”

bf!Stiles who watches you try to stand, eyes glued to your shaky legs, to the way you wince when you shift too fast. His cock twitches at the sight, and he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck, baby, you look—” He swallows hard, cutting himself off, forcing himself to stay still.

bf!Stiles who definitely wasn’t planning on going again, but the way you stretch, the way his cum drips down your thigh, the way your spent cock twitches against your stomach—it’s too much. His breath stutters, and when you glance back at him, raising an eyebrow, he just mutters, “Don’t look at me like that.”

bf!Stiles who pulls you back down before you can even think about arguing, flipping you onto your back, crawling between your legs with a hunger that shouldn’t even be possible after how many times he’s already cum. “Just one more,” he breathes, pressing kisses down your chest, across your stomach, dragging his teeth along your hip. “Promise.”

bf!Stiles who definitely doesn’t keep that promise. Because once he’s inside you again, once he feels the heat, the tightness, once he hears you gasp—he’s done for. All thoughts of stopping, of letting you rest, go out the window.

bf!Stiles who loves the way you sound when you’re too tired to hold back. The way your moans come out rough, wrecked, completely unfiltered. The way your cock twitches against your stomach, untouched, just from the drag of his thrusts.

bf!Stiles who leans down, mouth at your ear, whispering filth between ragged breaths. “Can’t believe you’re still so tight,” he groans, nipping at your earlobe. “Still sucking me in, baby. Feels like you want it—like you don’t want me to stop.”

bf!Stiles who nearly loses it when you grab at him, nails digging into his biceps, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in deeper. His moan is embarrassingly high-pitched, and he lets his forehead drop to your shoulder, gasping out, “Holy shit—” before picking up his pace, fucking into you like he’ll never get the chance again.

bf!Stiles who comes undone faster than he wants to, the overstimulation hitting him hard, making him tremble above you. His whole body is burning, his stomach tightening, his thrusts turning messy, erratic. He knows he should pull out, knows you’re exhausted, knows it’s too much—but when you beg, voice wrecked, whispering, “Inside, please—” he can’t help it.

bf!Stiles who cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering, filling you up so deep he can feel it, his whole body shaking from the force of it. His face is buried in your neck, breath hot and uneven, his hands gripping at you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

bf!Stiles who collapses on top of you after, completely spent, too drained to move. He’s still inside you, cock twitching with aftershocks, and when he finally manages to lift his head, he just mutters, “Okay. Now I’m done.”

bf!Stiles who, despite saying that, doesn’t pull out right away. He just stays there, pressed against you, soaking up your warmth, feeling the way your chest rises and falls beneath him. It’s too good. Too comfortable.

bf!Stiles who makes a soft, content noise when your fingers start combing through his buzzed hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He melts into it, eyes fluttering shut, humming under his breath. “M’gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, voice thick, sleepy.

bf!Stiles who only moves when he realizes you’re both a mess, skin sticky with sweat, his cum still leaking out of you. He groans, shifting just enough to grab the closest shirt—his, probably, but he doesn’t care—using it to wipe you down, mumbling, “Not my best work, but it’ll do.”

bf!Stiles who definitely talks in his sleep, barely coherent mumbling, slurred words that only make sense half the time. But tonight, it’s different. Tonight, his grip tightens around you, and between soft breaths, you hear him mutter, “So good for me.”

bf!Stiles who finally collapses back onto the bed, dragging you with him, wrapping himself around you like a human koala. His breath evens out against your skin, his grip loosening as sleep starts to take over.

bf!Stiles who barely manages to mumble, “Mine,” before he’s out cold, arms still wrapped tight around you, like even in his sleep, he refuses to let you go.

bf!Stiles who clings to you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, fingers curled loosely against your ribs, cheek pressed against your chest, warm breath fanning across your skin. His body is so warm, all long limbs and sharp angles, but he’s soft too—his stomach, the inside of his thighs, the dip of his spine where your palm rests.

bf!Stiles who makes little noises every time he breathes out, these barely-there sighs, like he’s exhaling all the tension left in his body, sinking into you completely. His lips are parted, his breath a little uneven, catching every time his body twitches from overstimulation.

bf!Stiles who twitches in his sleep, little jolts of movement that make his fingers spasm against your skin, his leg jerking slightly where it’s tangled with yours. Sometimes, it’s just a little shudder, a tremble that rolls through him, but then there’s the big ones—full-body twitches that shake the whole bed, making him grunt in his sleep, shifting closer like he’s chasing your warmth.

bf!Stiles who sighs when you run your hand down his back, smoothing your palm over his spine, grounding him. It’s like his body recognizes your touch even in sleep, instinctively relaxing, muscles softening under your fingertips.

bf!Stiles who sleeps like he fucks—messy, restless, needy. Even unconscious, he’s all over you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, one of his legs hooked over yours, his arm tight around your waist. He huffs when you shift, brows furrowing, a sleepy little sound of protest leaving his lips before he settles again, his grip tightening.

bf!Stiles who mumbles something in his sleep, voice so quiet it’s almost drowned out by his own breathing. You don’t catch all of it, but you hear your name in there, soft and sweet, the way he says it making your chest ache.

bf!Stiles who smells like himself, that mix of old spice and detergent and something uniquely Stiles—like the inside of his Jeep, like late-night bonfires, like the vanilla chapstick he always chews on without realizing. It’s grounding, familiar, him.

bf!Stiles who makes these tiny, involuntary movements against you, like his body’s still trying to press closer even though you’re already wrapped around him. He tucks his chin a little, tilting his head until his nose nudges against your collarbone, lips brushing your skin with every slow exhale.

bf!Stiles who mumbles in his sleep, words slurred, barely more than a breath against your skin. It’s nonsense half the time, little huffs of, “No, s’my turn to drive,” and, “The algorithms don’t match, dude,” but then, suddenly—“Love you.”

bf!Stiles who means it, even unconscious, even when he’s barely tethered to reality. His voice is quiet, raw, like it slipped out before he could stop it, like it’s a truth buried so deep in his bones that it doesn’t need to be spoken aloud to exist.

bf!Stiles who shifts slightly, his lips brushing over your collarbone, his breath hitching like his body knows what it just admitted, like even in sleep, he’s overwhelmed by you.

bf!Stiles who, after a long pause, whispers something so soft you almost don’t catch it. “You’re my Han Solo.”

bf!Stiles who lets out a slow, sleepy sigh, pressing even closer, fingers twitching against your side, like he’s waiting for you to respond—even though he’s already slipping deeper into sleep.

bf!Stiles who’s quiet for a while after that, his breathing finally evening out, his body finally relaxing against yours. It’s peaceful, soft, perfect—

—until he suddenly jerks awake with a sharp inhale, gripping your arm like he just had the most important realization of his life.

bf!Stiles who blurts out, voice raspy, “The government is hiding real werewolves in national parks.”

bf!Stiles who’s dead serious, blinking up at you, completely oblivious to the fact that he just went from confessing his love to spouting absolute bullshit in the span of ten seconds.

bf!Stiles who stares at you like he expects immediate agreement, like this is a perfectly logical follow-up to everything he just said, his fingers gripping your wrist like he needs you to understand how serious this is.

bf!Stiles who frowns when you snort, nuzzling into his hair, mumbling, “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

bf!Stiles who huffs, shifting in your arms, mumbling something about “bigfoot’s just a cover-up,” but still melts when you kiss his temple, still relaxes when you pull him closer.

bf!Stiles who, no matter how ridiculous he gets, no matter how chaotic his brain is, is still yours. And that’s the best part.

[halfmoonaria]

what we’ve been holding back

pairing: vada cavell & female reader

summary: for the first time, it’s just you, vada, and everything you’ve both been holding back.

warnings: smut (18+) oral (v receiving) fingering (r receiving) explicit sexual content.

author’s note: i hate this more than tongue can say but hope yall enjoy it anyway.

Vada never got the house to herself.

Not really, anyway. There was always someone around—her parents, of course, but more than anything, Amelia. Her little sister was like a permanent shadow, always appearing at the worst times, always needing something.

If she wasn't barging into Vada's room without knocking, she was hogging the TV remote or loudly FaceTiming her friends right outside Vada's door. And if she wasn’t being actively annoying, it was only because she was looking for new ways to be.

There were nights when Vada would be stretched out on the couch, half-asleep and watching some movie with you, only for Amelia to come crashing in, demanding to know exactly what you were watching before declaring it boring and switching the lights on. Then there were mornings when she'd blast music from the bathroom, knowing full well that Vada was still trying to sleep. Even on the rare occasions when she wasn't in the way, she was still there, existing in the background, always within earshot, ready to interrupt.

So when Vada found out that, for the first time in forever, she would actually have the house completely to herself, she barely knew what to do with the information at first. It didn't feel real.

It had started as a normal enough evening—her mom mentioning something about dinner plans as she moved around the kitchen, her dad chiming in with something about not waiting up. None of it really registered with Vada until her mom casually added that Amelia was already gone for the night, off at a sleepover.

That was what made Vada sit up.

The realization hit her all at once. No parents. No Amelia. No interruptions. Just her. Just you, if she got you to come over.

Excitement bubbled up fast, making her reach for her phone before she even fully processed what she was doing. She barely thought about what she was going to say—just that she had to tell you, and she had to tell you now.

The second you picked up, she was already talking, rushing through the words like she was afraid she'd lose the moment if she didn't get them out fast enough. You didn't even have time to say hello before she was telling you about the miraculous turn of events—how her parents had made last-minute plans, how Amelia was staying at a friend's house, how, for the first time in what felt like forever, she had the house to herself.

And more importantly, how that meant she had you to herself.

She barely gave you time to react before she was asking if you'd come over. It wasn't really a question—more of a demand disguised as one, her voice all hurried excitement as she told you to bring something nice to wear, even if she didn't know what for yet. She wanted tonight to be different, she told you. Not just another hangout, not just another "date" in name only, but something that actually felt like one.

Because most of the time, your "dates" weren't really dates at all. They were sitting on her bed watching bad movies while Amelia threw popcorn at you from the doorway. They were laying in the grass at the park, pretending the $3 slushies in your hands were expensive cocktails. They were long drives with no destination, no plan, just a vague hope that you'd end up somewhere interesting.

It wasn't that she minded. She loved that time with you—loved that it didn't take some grand gesture for you to want to be with her. But part of her still wished she could give you more than that.

She wished she could take you out somewhere nice, somewhere that didn't have sticky floors or fluorescent lights. She wished she could take you to a real restaurant, one with candlelit tables and expensive wine lists, where she could pull out your chair and hold your hand across the table without worrying about her little sister making gagging noises in the background.

But neither of you had the money for that, and even if you did, her parents were always home, Amelia was always home—there was always someone home. So your time together had to fit into the spaces left between.

Not tonight, though. Tonight was just yours.

So she'd cooked.

She wasn't a great cook—not even a good one, really—but she wanted to make something herself, something that at least resembled an actual date-night meal. Something better than the usual microwave dinners or takeout containers you two shared on her bed. So, she kept it simple: pasta. She figured it was hard to mess up, but even then, she still managed to overcook the noodles a little.

It wasn't fancy. It wasn't even that impressive. But it was hers.

And that had to count for something.

She'd even gone as far as lighting candles, the only ones she could find being the old, half-melted ones her mom kept under the sink. They smelled like vanilla and something vaguely floral, and the flames flickered unevenly, casting wobbly shadows across the table. It was probably stupid—it felt stupid. She could already hear Amelia's voice in her head, making fun of her for trying so hard.

And honestly, Vada would've made fun of herself too, a few months ago.

This was the kind of thing you two used to laugh at when you watched rom-coms together—how cheesy and soggy it all was, how ridiculous it was that anyone actually took the whole candlelit-dinner thing seriously.

But now? Now, she was starting to get it.

And that was enough to make her feel like maybe, just maybe, all of this wasn't as ridiculous as she thought.

Then the doorbell had rung.

Vada had barely had time to shake herself out of her thoughts before she had rushed to answer it, almost tripping over the corner of the rug in her hurry. She had stopped just short of yanking the door open too fast—because cool, she had needed to be cool—but all her effort at playing it smooth had gone straight out the window the second she had seen you.

You had stood there on her front porch, bathed in the dim glow of the porchlight, a bottle of wine in your hand. You had lifted it slightly, eyebrows raising as you had teased, "Thought this could make our very serious, very fancy dinner even fancier."

Vada had huffed out a laugh, eyes flicking from the bottle back to your face. Your face. Soft in the low light, lips curved in that easy way that had always made her heart trip over itself. The way your hair had framed your face, the way your eyes had flickered with amusement, the way you had looked at her—it had all been enough to make her forget her own name for a second.

She had recovered just enough to snatch the bottle from your grip, fingers brushing against yours for half a second longer than necessary. "You stole this, didn't you?"

You had grinned, tilting your head. "Define 'stole.'"

Vada had rolled her eyes but had still taken a step back, letting you in. And the second you had crossed the threshold, setting your hands on her waist, any and all of her previous self-consciousness had melted away.

You had kissed her before she could make some smartass remark, before she could even think about saying something stupid. It had been soft—slow, even—but warm in a way that had settled deep into her bones, making her feel weightless and anchored all at once.

And God, she had been able to taste the trouble on your lips already.

When you had pulled back, she had barely had a second to process before you had been taking in the dining setup behind her, eyes flicking over the candles, the plates, the pasta. Your smile had stretched a little wider, amusement clear in your gaze as you had turned back to her. "You really went all out, huh?"

She had felt her face heat, but she had just shrugged, trying to downplay it. "You're welcome."

You had hummed, clearly unimpressed by her attempt at being casual. Then, tilting your head, you had smirked. "So... which cooking tutorial did you follow?"

Vada had groaned, tipping her head back dramatically. "I hate you so much."

You had just laughed, nudging your shoulder against hers before stepping further into the house. And even as you had poked fun at her, even as you had made some offhanded comment about how the noodles had looked a little overcooked, she had been able to tell—you had liked it.

You had liked this.

Dinner itself had been a blur of easy conversation and laughter, of stolen bites and exaggerated reactions to how terrible her cooking had been. It hadn't been fancy. It hadn't been perfect. But it had been something.

You had liked this.

Vada had been able to tell by the way your smile had lingered as you ate, how you had stretched your legs out beneath the table, nudging your foot against hers like it was second nature. And maybe it had been. Maybe it had always been this easy for you—to just exist like this, to fit into every space you were given and make it your own.

She hadn't been able to take her eyes off of you.

Not while you had spoken, hands moving as if they could shape your words in the air. Not while you had twirled your fork through the pasta, the candlelight catching on the rim of your glass as you had lifted it to your lips. And definitely not when you had picked up the wine bottle, turning it between your fingers before tilting your chin up slightly.

"Some more wine, ma'am?" you had asked, your voice lilting in a way that had made her groan.

Vada hadn't even bothered to respond, just shaking her head as you had poured more into her glass anyway.

And now, even with the food long gone and the plates abandoned in the kitchen, she still couldn't take her eyes off of you.

The movie playing on the TV was one she had seen a hundred times, something you had both agreed on without really thinking about it, but she wasn't paying attention. Not to that, at least.

Because the way you were curled up against her, legs tucked over hers, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the back of her hand—that was more interesting than anything on the screen.

The movie had been playing for a while, the glow from the screen flickering across your face, catching in your eyes as you stared at it. Vada was supposed to be watching too, but her focus had started to slip long ago.

She had barely touched her glass of wine, her fingers curled loosely around the stem, more preoccupied with the way you had sunk further into her side, your body relaxed against hers. Every so often, you would shift slightly—reaching for more wine, adjusting your position, stretching out more against her. And every single time, she had to fight the urge to look down, to get distracted all over again.

She only snapped back to reality when you suddenly let out a breath, shaking your head a little before speaking.

"Okay, but why do people pretend this is the best movie ever? Like, it's fine, but it's not that good."

Vada had hummed in vague agreement, even though she had no idea what part you were talking about.

But then, a moment later, you turned your head toward her. Your brows furrowed slightly, like you were studying her, before your lips quirked up in a knowing smile.

"Are you even watching?"

She had barely caught herself in time, blinking and shifting her focus back toward the screen like she hadn't just been completely lost in staring at you.

"No, I am," she had said quickly, smiling through the lie.

And then she had forced herself to look back at the screen, even though it took everything in her not to glance at you again.

Vada had tried—really tried—to keep her eyes on the screen. But it was impossible when you were sitting right there, barely a breath away, looking the way you did.

Maybe it was the wine. You hadn't had much, just enough to feel the edges of everything blur, to make the warmth in her chest settle a little deeper. But still, it was enough to make her wonder if that was why she couldn't seem to look away from you. If it was the reason why, for the past ten minutes, she hadn't absorbed a single thing from the movie playing in front of her.

The glow from the TV flickered over your skin, soft and golden, mixing with the dim light from the streetlamp outside that slipped in through the window. It caught in your hair, traced over the curve of your cheek, reflected in your eyes when you blinked. You weren't even doing anything—you were just watching the movie, completely unaware of the way Vada was looking at you.

But she was looking.

And she couldn't stop.

Her gaze drifted over every little detail of your face—the faintest crease between your brows when you concentrated, the slight part of your lips when something caught your attention, the way your lashes brushed against your skin when you blinked. She felt your fingers move absentmindedly over the back of her hand, tracing slow, barely-there patterns against her skin, and the way it made her stomach tighten was almost embarrassing.

It was all so effortless. So you.

And she couldn't believe she got to have this. That she got to sit here in this moment, surrounded by nothing but the warmth of the house and the flickering light of the candles she had been embarrassed to set up, and just watch you.

She should have looked away.

She didn't.

And of course, you noticed.

You let out a quiet, breathy chuckle before turning toward her, amused. "What?"

Vada felt her stomach twist, her face warming under your gaze. She hesitated, just for a second, before letting out a soft breath.

"You're beautiful."

The way you blinked, like you hadn't expected her to say that, made her heart lurch in her chest. And then you smiled—really smiled—something small and teasing but still so genuine. Your fingers slowed against her hand, resting there, your touch lingering.

Vada's gaze flickered down before she could stop it.

Your lips.

She felt something settle low in her stomach, spreading through her chest, making her breath come just a little shorter. She didn't even think before she spoke again, voice quieter this time, rougher, like the words were forming before she had the chance to second-guess them.

"And I want to kiss you."

You tilted your head slightly, your smile deepening at the edges, the teasing glint in your eyes making her pulse quicken.

"Is that so?”

You didn't pull away.

Instead, you shifted, leaning in just a little, just enough that your knees brushed against hers, your fingers tightening slightly over the back of her hand.

And God, she must have looked ridiculous. Because she could feel it—could feel the way her lips parted slightly, could feel the way her eyes were stuck on your mouth, could feel the way she must have looked at you, like she was desperate, like she was starving.

She barely managed to nod.

And then you leaned in, closing the space between you.

Your lips met hers, soft and warm and slow, and for a second, Vada forgot how to breathe.

The kiss started slow, soft, just like it always did. But it never stayed that way for long.

Because Vada loved kissing you.

You had made out more times than either of you could count—on her bed, on your bed, in the backseat of your car, pressed up against the wall by your front door when neither of you wanted to say goodbye. It was something she would never get tired of, the feeling of your lips against hers, the way your hands always found their way to her waist, the way your fingers would tangle in her hair when you got impatient. She loved all of it.

But this? This felt different.

Hotter.

The kind of different that made her ache.

Your fingers curled at the hem of her shirt, not pushing, not pulling, just holding. She felt the way your touch lingered there, like you were thinking about doing something with it. And God, she wanted you to. But she didn't have time to dwell on it before your lips parted against hers, before your tongue flicked against hers, slow and teasing and just enough to make her stomach twist.

Vada let out a quiet hum, barely even a sound, before her hands found their way to your face, fingers brushing over the heat of your skin, thumbs smoothing over your jaw as she deepened the kiss.

It still wasn't enough.

So, without even thinking, she shifted.

Her hands slipped down to your shoulders, pressing against them lightly for balance as she adjusted her position, swinging a leg over your lap. Her knee sank into the couch next to your hip, then the other, her weight settling over you as she straddled you properly.

And still, her lips never left yours.

She felt the way you reacted instantly—the way your hands gripped her waist a little tighter, the way your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of her shirt, the way your breath hitched, barely noticeable, but she noticed.

Of course she did.

Because she noticed everything when it came to you.

It deepened fast, all sense of restraint unraveling the second Vada settled on top of you.

And maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just you—the way you felt underneath her, the way your hands kept fidgeting, like you couldn't figure out where to hold her. Whatever it was, it had something twisting tight in her stomach, making her push closer, kiss harder, until she wasn't even sure if she was kissing you anymore or just trying to devour you whole.

She barely realized what she was doing—how desperate, how messy she had gotten—until she felt you chuckle against her lips. And God, that should have slowed her down, should have made her think, but instead, it only made her worse. Because the second you smiled, the second you mumbled something about her being so needy, Vada groaned against your mouth and kissed you even harder, hands threading into your hair to keep you right there.

And your hands?

God, your hands.

They moved constantly, like you couldn't decide where you wanted them most. First, your fingers tangled in her hair, threading through the strands, tugging just enough to make her whimper. Then they slid lower, pressing against the thin fabric of her shirt as they smoothed down her back. And then—fuck—then they landed on her ass, barely a pause before your fingers squeezed, firm and possessive, making heat shoot straight through her.

Vada gasped against your lips, the sound half a moan, and she swore she felt you smirk.

But just as quickly as your hands had gotten there, they moved again, fingers skimming up over the curve of her hips, finally settling there, thumbs pressing lightly into her skin through the fabric.

And then—oh God, then—you guided her.

The touch was loose, barely even forceful, but she felt it. The way your fingers flexed, the way your grip tightened just enough to encourage her to move. And before she even thought about what she was doing, her body responded.

Her hips rocked against yours, slow and experimental, sending a sharp, warm shiver straight up her spine.

Oh.

Oh.

This was new.

Your hands had wandered before, gotten a little bold when you made out, but this? This had never happened before. And the realization, the fact that you were doing this, that you wanted her to do this, sent a rush of excitement straight through her, making her stomach flip.

So she did it again.

And again.

Each movement growing a little more confident, a little more sure, until she didn't even have to think about it anymore. Until her hands were gripping your shoulders just to keep her balance, until she was pressing herself against you exactly the way she wanted to, the way you were leading her to.

And Vada had never been more excited in her life.

Because she had noticed.

The second she opened the door and saw you standing there, she had noticed. The black off-shoulder top clinging to you, the delicate curve of your collarbone on display, the way the fabric settled so perfectly against your skin. And she hadn't thought much of it at first, just that you looked really fucking good. But then, when you leaned over the table to pour more wine, when the neckline of your top shifted just slightly, the realization hit her—

You weren't wearing a bra.

And now, as she pressed against you, her hands skimming over the soft fabric of your shirt, the thought was making her dizzy.

She wanted to see you.

Her fingers curled at the hem of your shirt, and she hesitated for only a second before pulling away just enough to look at you. You understood immediately, a slow smile playing at your lips as you raised your arms, giving her permission, encouragement, and—fuck—Vada could barely breathe as she pushed the fabric up, over your ribs, over your chest, finally tugging it over your head and tossing it somewhere.

She didn't care where it landed.

Because—

Oh.

Oh.

She froze.

Her hands, still mid-motion from discarding your shirt, stilled. Her breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat, and her brain completely short-circuited.

She was fucking gone.

She had imagined this before—of course she had, she was only human—but nothing, nothing, compared to the reality of it. The way the candlelight flickered over your bare skin, painting you in soft golds and shadows, the way the warm glow from the TV barely illuminated the curves of your chest, making them look almost unreal.

God.

Vada just stared, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with something between disbelief and absolute, stunned awe.

She wanted to touch. Wanted to feel.

But all she could do was look, completely mesmerized, completely wrecked, because holy shit.

Vada barely realized the word had left her mouth until she heard it. "Wow."

It wasn't intentional—just something that slipped out, breathless, awed, like her brain hadn't caught up with her mouth.

She hovered her hands over you, close enough to feel the warmth of your skin but not quite touching. She wasn't sure why she was hesitating. Maybe because she didn't want to ruin the moment, or maybe because she didn't know if she could handle it.

But you didn't seem embarrassed.

Didn't shift under her gaze, didn't cross your arms over yourself or make any move to cover up. You only smirked, a soft, amused chuckle slipping past your lips, and somehow, somehow, that made everything even sexier.

Vada swallowed hard.

And then, finally, finally, she touched you.

Her hands settled on your breasts, hesitant at first, just feeling, getting used to the weight of them in her palms. Her thumbs brushed over your nipples, and when she felt them harden beneath her touch, something in her snapped.

She grew bolder, kneading them more firmly, watching your expression shift as your lips parted just slightly, as your breath hitched.

God, she loved this. Loved how soft you felt, how warm, how responsive.

Then she leaned in, capturing your lips again without stopping her movements, her hands still exploring, still touching. She felt the way you sighed into her mouth, how your fingers slid into her hair, tugging her closer, deepening the kiss.

But it wasn't enough.

Vada needed more.

So she let her hands drift down, gripping your waist as she shifted lower, trailing her lips from your mouth to your jaw, then lower still, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck.

And then she kept going.

She slid down your body, slowly, adjusting herself as she moved lower, her knees sinking further into the couch cushions, her body stretching out across yours so she could reach. Her lips trailed past your collarbone, over the slope of your shoulder, and then—

Lower.

Her mouth hovered over your chest now, and she hesitated for just a second, looking up at you.

Your head had tilted back against the couch, your eyes fluttering shut, your lips parted just slightly as the softest moan slipped out.

And fuck, that was all she needed.

Vada pressed soft, lingering kisses along the curves of your breasts, giving them both equal attention, her lips parting slightly to suck at the delicate skin. She took her time, savoring the way you reacted, the way your body tensed and relaxed beneath her touch.

And when her tongue flicked over your nipple, circling it in slow, deliberate motions, she swore she felt the way your breath caught.

It should have felt new. It was new. She had never done this before, never been in this position with anyone. But somehow, it didn't feel unfamiliar.

It was like second nature, like her body knew exactly what to do without her having to think about it.

Maybe it was because she'd watched people do this before—had spent more time than she'd ever admit scrolling through videos, studying the way hands moved, the way mouths teased, the way lips wrapped around sensitive skin just like hers were doing now.

Or maybe it was just you.

Maybe it was the way you made everything feel so easy, so natural, like she was supposed to be here, like she was supposed to be doing this.

Your hands found their way into her hair, fingers threading through the strands, gripping just enough to make her feel it, to make her shiver.

And then—

"Fuck, Vada."

Hearing you say her name like that, breathless, desperate—God, it wrecked her.

Vada barely had time to process the effect it had on her before she felt your hands on her sides, fingertips pressing lightly, almost hesitantly, before they trailed up. The warmth of your touch sent a shiver through her, and when your fingers slipped under the hem of her hoodie, she swore her heart skipped a beat.

You didn't need to say anything. The way your hands lingered there, the way your thumbs brushed over the bare skin just above her waistband—it was enough. And she wanted it too.

She hesitated for just a second, her breath catching in her throat, before she pulled away just enough to reach for the fabric herself. In one smooth motion, she lifted the hoodie over her head, her hair falling messily around her shoulders as she tossed it somewhere—she didn't know, didn't care. Not when your hands were already reaching again, already touching her.

You started slow, fingertips grazing her shoulders, sliding under the straps of her bra. The touch was light, teasing, and yet it set every nerve in her body on fire.

She felt your fingers pause at the clasp.

Her breath hitched.

And then, slowly, so slowly, you worked it open.

The straps slipped down her arms, the fabric falling away, and then it was gone.

Vada wasn't sure what she expected—if she expected anything—but when she finally gathered the courage to meet your gaze, what she saw made her feel like her whole body had just been set ablaze.

You were staring.

Not just looking. Not just seeing. You were taking her in, eyes dark and hungry as you admired every inch of her.

Vada had never been in this position before—half-naked in someone's lap, completely exposed—but somehow, she didn't feel nervous. She should have, maybe. But the way you were looking at her... it was like you wanted her, like you needed her, like this moment had been building up for so long that neither of you could hold back anymore.

And when your hands found their way to her waist, gripping just a little tighter than before, pulling her back in like you had to, like you couldn't stand even a second apart—she swore she could have melted.

You pulled her back in, your lips meeting hers again, slow at first—like you were savoring her, like you wanted to take your time. Your hands traced gentle paths along her waist, your fingers spreading out over her bare skin, warm and steady, grounding her in a way that made her dizzy.

Vada let herself sink into it, let herself melt against you, let herself feel everything. The softness of your lips, the way your breath mixed with hers, the way her whole body felt like it was burning from just this.

And then, between kisses, your voice came, soft but certain, against her lips.

"You're beautiful."

It was so simple, yet it sent a rush through her that she hadn't expected.

She hadn't realized she needed to hear it—not until you said it.

A smile pulled at her lips, small at first, then wider as she let her forehead rest against yours for just a second, breathing you in. She knew she was beautiful, she'd been told before—but hearing it here, Now, from you? With your hands on her, your lips brushing against hers, your gaze still lingering like you meant it?

She didn't feel shy anymore.

She pressed another kiss to your lips, slower, deeper.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she murmured against your mouth, the words slipping out before she even realized she was saying them. But she didn't regret them. Because she couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that after all the teasing, all the stolen kisses, all the almosts—this was happening.

And God, she never wanted to stop.

Vada pulled back just enough to look at you, her breath warm against your lips, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded with something deeper than just desire. It was hunger—real, undeniable hunger—but beneath that, something softer, something nervous. Not because she didn't want this, but because she did—so much that it made her hands tremble slightly as they brushed over your bare sides.

Her gaze flickered over your face, searching, memorizing, as if she were trying to commit every second to memory. Because this was happening. Finally.

She swallowed hard, blinking down at you before her lips twitched into the smallest, almost shy smile. And then, she kissed you again—deeper, slower, savoring it. But it wasn't just that. It was purposeful. Like she had already made up her mind about something.

You felt it when she shifted, her hands smoothing over your sides, then lower, gripping your hips as she carefully slid back, slipping off of your lap and sinking to the floor between your legs.

Your breath hitched.

She kissed her way down as she moved, lingering at your jaw, your collarbone, your chest—her lips pressing reverent, open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin there. Then lower, down your stomach, her nose brushing against your skin, her breath warm, making you shiver as she went.

And then she stopped. Right at the waistband of your jeans.

Her fingers hovered there for a second, hesitating, before she glanced up at you.

Her lips were slightly parted, her pupils blown wide, and yet—her eyes searched yours, questioning, asking without words. She wasn't unsure about what she wanted, but she needed you to tell her. To say it.

You held her gaze, your chest rising and falling a little too fast, your skin still tingling from the way she had kissed her way down your body.

Then, finally, you nodded. And when you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper—soft, but certain.

"Please."

That was all it took.

Vada let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and then—her fingers moved. The button of your jeans came undone, the zipper following soon after, and then—she was tugging them down, her hands warm, her touch careful but eager, as she pulled them off of you.

With your jeans gone, the only thing left on you was your underwear, a thin barrier between you and her. And Vada—she just stared.

Her breath was uneven as she reached for them, her fingers hesitating against the waistband, her nerves flickering back to life despite the overwhelming heat between you. But it wasn't uncertainty. It was something deeper.

Because this was it.

She was really about to see you. All of you.

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes flicking up to meet yours again, searching, almost like she was waiting for permission all over again. And you—God, you looked so good like this, half-naked on the couch, skin flushed, chest rising and falling just a little quicker than before. You weren't hesitant.

You weren't second-guessing anything. If anything, the way your lips curled into a soft, expectant smile—the way you lifted your hips slightly, giving her silent permission—only made Vada's heart hammer even harder against her ribs.

So she tugged them down.

Slowly. Carefully.

And then she saw it.

Her breath hitched, her fingers freezing against your thighs as she took you in.

Fuck.

She didn't know what she was expecting. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about this before, wasn't like she hadn't imagined it in the back of her mind on nights when she was alone, when the teasing had been too much, when she could still feel the ghost of your hands on her skin.

But seeing you—like this, bare and spread out before her—was something else entirely.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her wide, dark eyes flickering between your thighs, drinking in every detail, her hands still resting against the tops of them. She could feel the heat radiating from you, could see how wet you were, and it sent a dizzying rush straight through her.

God.

She almost laughed—half out of disbelief, half because she suddenly felt so overwhelmed, like her brain was short-circuiting, like she was having a hard time processing just how fucking gorgeous you were.

But all that slipped past her lips was a soft, breathless—

"Wow."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with something almost reverent, almost awestruck.

You let out a quiet chuckle, your head tilting slightly, watching her, waiting for her to do something, say something more. But you didn't look embarrassed. You didn't try to shy away or cover yourself, didn't shift under her gaze like you were self-conscious about the way she was staring.

And that only made this even hotter.

Vada hovered her hands over your thighs, fingers twitching, like she wanted to touch you but wasn't sure if she was allowed to yet.

You reached down, running your fingers through her hair, tugging her closer, a silent encouragement. And when she finally touched you, sliding her hands up your legs, gripping your thighs and spreading them just a little wider—she swore she felt herself ache with need.

Because fuck—she wanted you.

All of you.

And now she was finally about to have you.

But just before she dove in, she looked up at you again, her lips slightly parted, brows furrowing as if she was only now realizing what she was about to do.

"Should I...? Do you want me to—"

The nervous energy crackled in her voice, a sharp contrast to the hunger in her eyes, and God, it would've been adorable if you weren't already aching for her.

You cut her off, your fingers still tangled in her hair, tugging just enough to get her attention.

"Vada, baby, please."

That was all she needed to hear.

"Right."

And then she did it.

She started slow. Tentative. Like she was testing the waters, figuring out what made you gasp, what made your fingers tighten in her hair. But she wasn't unsure. Far from it. She licked a slow stripe up your center, tasting you for the first time, and Jesus Christ, she nearly moaned.

You were so wet.

For her.

Her hands flexed against your thighs, gripping them as she let herself sink deeper into it, flattening her tongue, pressing in closer, wanting more.

And the sounds—God, the sounds you made.

The quiet gasps, the breathy little moans that slipped past your lips, the way you exhaled her name, voice shaky and wrecked—fuck.

She had never done this before. But somehow, she knew exactly what to do.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was the way you reacted to her—your body arching, your breath hitching, the way your thighs tensed when she flicked her tongue just right. Or maybe it was the fact that she had definitely watched people do this before, studied the way they moved, imagined what it would be like.

Either way, she wasn't stopping.

Not when she had you like this—breathless, desperate, falling apart under her tongue.

And God, she loved this.

So she should've felt confident. The way you gasped, the way your body tensed, the way your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer—it all should've been enough to tell her she was doing this right.

But still, she couldn't help the doubt creeping in, the slight hesitation in her movements as she pulled back just enough to look up at you.

"Does it feel good?" Her voice was soft, uncertain, lips glistening as she spoke.

You barely managed to open your eyes, your head still tipped back against the couch, breath coming in short, uneven pants. And God, Vada loved how wrecked you already looked.

Your fingers twitched in her hair, tightening just a little. Keeping her there.

"Mhm." You nodded, voice barely above a whisper. "Baby, it's great."

That should've been enough for her.

But she still watched you, eyes flickering between your face and the way your chest rose and fell, like she was waiting for more.

And you could feel it—the slight hesitation, the way she was still holding back. Still unsure.

So you tugged her in closer, your voice coming out rushed, almost pleading.

"Please, continue."

And fuck, that flipped something in her.

Any hesitation she had before—gone.

She dove back in with renewed hunger, her hands gripping your thighs tighter as she flattened her tongue, moving with more confidence this time. More intent.

And when she felt your fingers tighten in her hair again, pushing her down just the slightest bit, guiding her to exactly where you needed her most—God, she nearly groaned against you.

Because that told her everything she needed to know.

You wanted more.

And she was more than happy to give it to you.

Vada never considered herself patient, but she took her time now—partly because she wanted to savor this, and partly because she was still figuring it out. But she knew one thing for certain: she wanted this. Wanted you. And judging by the way your body tensed beneath her, the way your breath hitched every time she moved, she was doing something right.

Her hands gripped your thighs, thumbs tracing slow circles against your skin, grounding herself as she let her mouth explore. She started off careful, tentative, trying to gauge your reactions. But the second she heard your sharp inhale, the quiet, breathy "Oh—" that slipped out before you could stop it, something in her ignited.

She pressed in deeper, her movements growing more confident, more eager, and she felt the way you responded instantly. Your fingers curled into her hair, not pulling, just holding, tugging her closer. And fuck, that did something to her. The idea that you wanted her right there, wanted more of her.

And God, she wanted to give you everything.

Your head tipped back against the couch, a shaky breath escaping as you murmured, "Oh yeah, that's good." Your voice was unsteady, like you were barely able to get the words out, and that was all the encouragement Vada needed.

Her grip on your thighs tightened, holding you still as she settled into a rhythm, pushing past her nerves, following nothing but instinct now. The more she gave, the more she wanted—you were warm, soft, intoxicating beneath her, and hearing those quiet sounds fall from your lips only made her more determined.

She could feel your breath coming quicker, the rise and fall of your chest growing uneven, and when your fingers in her hair tightened—really tightened—she felt another rush of pride surge through her.

And when she heard you whimper her name, that was it.

Vada swore she could've stayed like this forever.

But it was clear you couldn't.

The way your thighs started to tremble, the way your breath hitched on every exhale, coming out in these ragged little gasps—it told her everything. You were unraveling, slipping closer and closer to the edge, and fuck, she could feel it. The heat of you, the way your body arched into her touch, desperate, pleading without words.

And then there was the way your hands had tightened in her hair, no longer just holding but gripping, like you were keeping yourself grounded. Like the pleasure was so overwhelming you needed something—someone—to hold onto. The realization made something deep inside her clench, a rush of pride, excitement, maybe even disbelief washing over her all at once.

She was the one making you feel this good.

She was the one drawing out these breathy little moans, these broken gasps, the soft, helpless whimpers that sent a shiver down her spine.

You rocked against her, chasing the feeling, chasing more, and she let you, gripping your thighs as she worked her tongue in slow, deliberate motions.

Vada never wanted to stop.

But then your hips stuttered—just slightly, just enough for her to notice. Your breath hitched sharply, and the hand buried in her hair tugged before you let out a shaky, "Fuck, I'm close."

Your voice, wrecked and desperate, sent a bolt of heat straight through her, but she didn't dare slow down. Instead, she gripped your thighs, keeping you in place, letting herself sink even deeper into the moment.

You needed this.

And God, she needed it too.

Vada didn't let up.

If anything, hearing you say that only spurred her on. She flattened her tongue against you, dragging it slowly before flicking the tip against your most sensitive spot. She could feel the way your body reacted, the way your thighs tensed beneath her palms, your hips jerking up ever so slightly like you couldn't help it.

She did it again—slow, teasing, before switching back to those quick, precise flicks, alternating between the two until she felt you start to tremble. The way you whimpered, the way your fingers tightened in her hair, almost pulling her closer, told her you needed more, needed her to keep going just like this.

So she did.

She wrapped her lips around you, sucking gently, adding just the slightest pressure as her tongue moved against you in tight, perfect circles. You let out this soft, strangled moan, your thighs twitching against her, and fuck, that sound—Vada swore she could feel it, deep in her chest, in her stomach, everywhere.

She didn't know how she was doing this so well, didn't know how she knew exactly what you needed—but she wasn't questioning it. Not when you sounded like this.

And then you broke.

Your body tensed, thighs clamping around Vada's head as a sharp, breathless moan escaped you. Your fingers tightened in her hair, pulling just enough to make her whimper against you, but she didn't stop—not yet. She kept her tongue moving, guiding you through it, slow and deliberate, savoring every second as you came undone beneath her.

She could feel it—the way your stomach clenched, the way your hips stuttered before finally stilling, the way your breath came in short, uneven gasps. She didn't stop until she felt you physically twitch from the sensitivity, until you exhaled a shaky, "Vada—" that sounded so sweet, so wrecked, that she had to listen.

Only then did she finally pull away, lips glistening, pupils blown wide as she looked up at you. And God, she had never seen anything more beautiful.

You were still trying to catch your breath, chest rising and falling unevenly, body still warm and buzzing from the aftermath. Your head was tilted back against the couch, lips slightly parted, eyes half-lidded as you blinked down at her. You looked completely wrecked in the best way, and Vada could not stop staring.

She stayed between your legs, grinning softly, her own breath still uneven. There was something so intoxicating about seeing you like this, knowing she had been the one to get you there. It made her stomach twist in the best way.

After a moment, she tilted her head, eyes flickering up to yours, and asked, almost shyly, "Was that good?"

You let out a breathy chuckle, still dazed. "Amazing, baby."

And God, Vada swore she could've melted.

But then you spoke.

"My turn."

Vada's grin faltered for just a second at your words, her breath hitching as realization settled in. Your turn.

You had finally caught your breath, but she lost hers.

She stayed between your legs for a moment longer, her hands resting on your thighs, but now there was a shift—something in the air that made her shiver. You reached for her, fingers curling around her wrist as you guided her up, and she followed without hesitation.

You kissed her again, slow and deep, before gently maneuvering her until she was straddling your thigh, her knees pressing into the couch on either side of you. She was already breathing heavier, already so affected by just the idea of what was coming next.

Her hands found your shoulders for balance, and you smoothed yours down her sides, over the curve of her waist, before sliding them lower. Your voice was soft, but certain—confident—when you said, "I want to make you feel good too."

And just like that, Vada felt like she could combust.

Your hands dipped lower, fingers working at the button of her jeans. It wasn't the easiest thing to do with the way she was straddling you, but you didn't seem to mind the challenge. Neither did she. If anything, it made her pulse race faster.

She bit her lip as you popped the button open, then dragged the zipper down. But when you tried to push them down her hips, the angle made it impossible. She huffed a soft laugh, already desperate to get them off.

"I should probably—" she mumbled, already moving before she could finish the thought.

You let her go, watching as she stood, hurriedly shoving her jeans down her legs. They pooled at her ankles, and she kicked them off, nearly stumbling in her rush. A breathless giggle escaped her lips as she caught her balance.

Her hands were already at the waistband of her underwear, but before she could do it herself, you reached forward, hooking your fingers there.

"Let me."

She swallowed hard, nodding, letting you pull them down in one slow, smooth motion.

And now she was bare for you. Just as you had been for her.

She was already moving back toward you before she even thought about it, climbing into your lap again, her breathing uneven as she settled against you—closer than before, warmer than before.

And God, she needed you.

The moment she settled back onto your lap, you pulled her in for a kiss—deep, slow, intoxicating. Your tongue brushed against hers, and she whimpered softly into your mouth, her hands gripping your shoulders for stability.

Your hands didn't stay still for long. They traced their way up her sides, fingertips ghosting over her waist, her stomach—warm, soft, nervous. She shivered under your touch, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she pressed in closer.

And then your hands cupped her breasts.

Her breath hitched—sharp, surprised, new. No one had ever touched her like this before. Not anyone else. Not even close. The only hands that had ever roamed this part of her body were her own, and this was so different. This was you.

Her lips parted against yours, a soft, shuddering exhale slipping free.

You parted from the kiss, your breath mingling with hers as your hands settled on her hips, thumbs smoothing over her warm skin. Your eyes met hers—dark, wanting, hungry, but underneath it all, there was something else. Something softer.

Love.

And then, in one fluid motion, you shifted, guiding her onto her back against the couch, your body hovering over hers. Her breath hitched again, eyes wide for only a second before a grin tugged at her lips—God, she loved this. She loved you.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you in as her hands slid up your arms. But when your hand moved down between her legs, she shuddered, her grip faltering as her thighs loosened slightly around you, just enough to give you the access you wanted.

Your fingers trailed down, brushing over the heat of her, feeling how warm, how wet she was for you. The slightest touch had Vada sucking in a breath, her stomach tensing as her hips shifted instinctively toward you. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second, like she was trying to process it, to hold onto the feeling, but she forced them back open, locking onto yours. She needed to see you. Needed to watch you.

You kept your touch light, teasing, dragging your fingertips along her inner thigh before moving back to where she was desperate for you. Her body reacted instantly—another sharp breath, the way her fingers dug into your arms, holding on like she needed something to ground herself. And maybe she did.

"Is this okay?" you murmured, your voice softer than ever, filled with nothing but care. The way you looked at her, the way you asked—like she was something delicate, something that mattered more than anything else in the world—it made her dizzy.

Vada swore she could've come just from that. Just from you.

She tried to answer, but her throat felt too tight, the words tangled somewhere inside her. So she just nodded, quick, almost frantic, because yes, yes, she wanted this, needed this.

And then you pushed in.

Two fingers, slow but certain, sinking into her with ease. The air left her lungs in a sharp, broken gasp, her head tipping back against the pillow as a sound she'd never made before slipped out of her mouth. Her body clenched around you, hot and tight, and she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel.

Couldn't do anything but feel.

Your fingers moved with purpose, slow at first, letting her adjust, letting her take it all in. The way you filled her, the way your touch sent warmth spiraling through her body—it was overwhelming, almost too much, but she didn't want it to stop.

A sharp, breathless sound escaped her as you curled your fingers, pressing against something deep inside her that made her entire body jolt. Her hands clutched at your arms, her nails digging into your skin, as she let out something between a gasp and a moan.

Your face was so close to hers, your breath ghosting over her lips, hot and unsteady. She could feel you, all of you—your hands, your mouth, the way your body pressed into hers, keeping her grounded even as everything inside her felt like it was unraveling.

Her mouth fell open, but no words came, only the broken sounds of pleasure slipping past her lips. It was nothing like she imagined—no idle fantasy could have prepared her for the way you touched her, the way you knew exactly what she needed.

You whispered something to her, voice low and soothing, and she barely processed the words. All she knew was that she wanted more. That she never wanted this moment to end.

A shuddering breath left her lips before she could stop it, her whole body tightening as your fingers pressed deeper. "Fuck." The word slipped out before she even realized she was saying it, half-whispered, half-moan, raw with desperation.

She didn't know what to grab. Her hands twitched, searching for something, anything to hold onto, but the couch beneath her wasn't enough. Her fingers curled into the fabric, gripping tight, but it didn't ground her—it only made her more aware of how good this felt.

Her hips moved instinctively, chasing the pressure, grinding against your fingers as heat curled low in her stomach. It was intoxicating, the way you touched her, the way you watched her. She could barely keep her eyes open, barely form a coherent thought, but that didn't stop the words from spilling out of her mouth, breathless and unfiltered.

"Jesus—God—that's—fuck, you're so—" A strangled whimper cut her off as you curled your fingers again, hitting that spot that made her body jolt. "So good."

Her voice was shaking, her breath uneven, and she couldn't stop herself, couldn't stop the way she was moving against you, couldn't stop the way she needed more.

Her fingers clawed weakly at the couch cushion behind her, nails dragging against the fabric as her hips moved in rhythm with your hand. Her head tilted back, lips parted, breaths choppy and uneven. She kept trying to say something, kept opening her mouth like the words were there—right there—but all that came out were broken sounds, strangled moans that cracked in her throat.

And then, between gasps, she finally said it—barely audible, like it slipped out without permission.

"I've thought about this," she breathed, voice hoarse and raw. "So many times."

You didn't stop, just kept your pace steady, fingers dragging in and out of her with that perfect angle, that perfect pressure that made her thighs tense around you. Her stomach flexed with every wave that built, and her eyes fluttered open—just barely—to find yours.

There was a flicker of something deeper behind her dazed expression. Lust, obviously. But also disbelief. Awe.

"Not like this though," she managed, her voice catching in her throat. "Not this good."

Her gaze dropped to where your hand was moving between her legs, the slick sounds of it only making everything more intense. She looked at your fingers like she couldn't believe what they were doing to her—how deep they were, how wet they were. Her jaw trembled, and her eyes rolled back again as another moan tore from her.

Vada's legs were starting to shake around your waist, but her hips kept moving anyway—needy and uncoordinated, like her body didn't care how far gone she already was. Her head lolled to the side, teeth catching her bottom lip, but she couldn't bite back the moan that spilled out next. Her hand slid from the couch to your arm, gripping like she needed something to anchor her.

"I used to think about this so much," she panted, eyes blinking slowly, trying to keep them open. "Like... I'd imagine you touching me, sometimes when I couldn't sleep, or when I was just—" She broke off for a second, the pleasure crashing over her words. "I never thought it'd feel like this. I thought I'd be nervous, or too in my head—"

"Baby," you murmured, your voice low and uneven, but she kept talking, trying to push through it even as her body clenched tighter around your fingers.

"—but it's just you, and it feels—fuck—it feels so—"

"Vada."

Her name landed like a spark on her skin. Her voice died out, breath catching in her throat, and the sound that left her was more of a moan than a response.

"Yes?" she whispered, almost a whine, her eyes fluttering shut and then open again like she couldn't decide if she wanted to look at you or just fall apart.

Your lips hovered close to hers—so close she could feel your breath in her mouth, warm and shallow. The only thing separating a kiss was your restraint. Your nose grazed hers. And she could feel how breathless you were too, though not quite as wrecked as she was. Not yet.

"Please shut up," you said, barely more than a breath, but you were smirking—hot and slow—like it was a warning and a tease at the same time.

Vada didn't argue. Her breath caught again. She went quiet instantly, and the look in her eyes made it clear she liked that. Liked how wrecked she felt under you. Liked that you could still manage control even when she couldn't.

And you didn't stop.

Your fingers curled up inside her with practiced pressure, the pads dragging against that one spot that had her breath catching every time. You didn't let her hips escape you either—your free hand slid up her side to hold her in place, your palm splayed flat just under her ribs as she squirmed.

Vada let out a choked moan, her nails digging into your bicep now, trying to hold on to something as her thighs tensed around your waist again. Her body was too responsive to hide anything—every time your fingers thrust in, slow but deep, her whole chest jolted forward, her back arching off the couch in little jerks she couldn't control. Her head tipped back hard against the cushion, exposing her throat, her mouth slack with whimpers that kept slipping out between her gasps.

You dipped your head, lips grazing along her jaw, your breath brushing her ear as your fingers pumped faster. You didn't need to look to know how wet she was—you could feel it, slick and warm, coating your fingers and dripping down over your knuckles.

And her face—god, her face. She looked like she was losing it.

Her brows were furrowed, cheeks flushed, lips trembling as she tried to breathe through it. But she couldn't keep still. Her hips were chasing every motion of your hand, grinding into your palm like she needed more, needed it harder, deeper, anything. Her thighs clenched around you again, tighter this time, and a broken curse left her mouth.

"F-fuck—"

Her voice cracked halfway through it. Her whole body stuttered, trembling under your weight, and her hands flew to your shoulders now, clutching at you, nails scraping lightly down your skin like she couldn't hold herself back anymore. And that's when you knew—she was right at the edge.

So you stayed right there, fingers moving with purpose now, pushing in just a little deeper, curling up just right. You let her ride it out, your face still so close to hers that you could feel every unsteady breath against your lips. Your name tumbled out of her mouth like a plea, broken and urgent, over and over again.

And then her whole body seized—legs locking, mouth falling open in a silent moan before the sound finally caught in her throat.

She came hard.

You felt it all—every twitch, every clench around your fingers as her orgasm tore through her. Her whole body arched beneath you, thighs trembling, her chest rising fast as her moans broke apart into gasps she couldn't catch. It hit her so suddenly and so deep that she was left stunned, lips parted like she was still trying to speak, but nothing came out.

You didn't pull away, not right away. You kept your fingers buried inside her, letting her ride out the aftershocks as her body spasmed beneath you. Slower now, gentler, your touch shifted—fingertips stroking her from the inside, coaxing every last ripple of pleasure until she was too sensitive to take it.

Only then did you ease your hand away, and her legs fell open, limp and trembling. Her hands slipped down from your shoulders, dragging weakly across your back as her body sagged into the couch like she had no bones left to hold her up.

Her chest was still heaving.

Her skin was flushed.

And her eyes—when she finally blinked them open—were glassy, dazed, and somehow still locked on you. You leaned down, brushing your lips against her jaw before you settled over her again, your hands gentle now as they smoothed up her sides.

Vada was smiling.

Barely, lazily, breathlessly.

She looked wrecked. And it was maybe the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Still catching her breath, she gave a quiet laugh, lips twitching like she couldn't quite form real words yet. But she tried.

"Holy shit."

You kissed the side of her mouth, slow and warm, and when you pulled back, she finally looked at you fully—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hair messy against the cushions.

And then, with a small smirk and a husky voice, she whispered, "I can't feel my legs."

You didn't say anything right away. Just let yourself look at her, really look—at the way her lashes stuck together at the corners from the wetness in her eyes, at the little flush still lingering across her cheeks and chest. Your hand moved without thinking, gently brushing sweaty strands of hair back from her face. She leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed for a second like even that soft contact was too much.

Still breathing heavily, Vada shifted slightly beneath you, her thighs twitching in aftershocks as she tried to get comfortable again. She winced a little, laughing under her breath as her body reminded her just how hard she'd come. You whispered something close to her ear—some soft murmur that made her smile—but mostly, you stayed quiet. Let the silence settle around you both.

Eventually, you started to move. Carefully. Slowly pulling her underwear back up her legs, tucking her in again like you were scared she'd break. She watched you, dazed but glowing, her fingers brushing against your arm as you helped her. When you sat back down beside her, she immediately curled into your side, her head resting against your shoulder like it belonged there. Her breathing was steadier now, but you could still feel the occasional hitch in her chest when your fingertips moved over her bare skin.

You let your hand rest on her stomach, your thumb tracing idle little circles as you both just... lay there. Warm. Spent. Close.

And then she tilted her face up toward yours again, eyes half-lidded and mouth pink from all the kissing and gasping and biting down on moans. Her voice was rough, still catching on the tail end of her own breathlessness.

"Can we do that again?"

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Imagine being each other's first time. Jason died very young and after that, he was too focused on his revenge. And you simply haven't found someone with whom you're comfortable enough to remove your clothes. Needless to say, you're both very nervous at the beginning because the other one surely had to have some experience because, how could someone this amazing abstain from sex? When the truth comes out it's almost exhilarating. You both laugh about it, but once the jitters settle down, you're more relaxed about it. Slowly, you undress each other with silent reassurance and sweet kisses. When Jason sees you standing in your underwear in his room he has trouble finding his breath. This is really happening, you're here sprawled on his bed with half-lidded eyes and leaning into his every touch. He groans softly into your mouth when his large palm cups your breast. In response, your hips raise up to meet his own, and you both break the kiss with a gasp. His other hand cups your crotch and you can barely keep in your whimpers and embarrassment. Jason grabs the edges of your panties to drag them down your things and you make a weak attempt at pushing him away. No...yes...don't look...keep going. You opt for hiding your face in the nook of your elbow, trying to muffle the quiet mewls. Jason barely registers your protests, he's too focused on soft silken folds and the way you writhe and tremble under him. He decides then and there he will dedicate the rest of his life to recreating that blissed-out expression on your face. There's some initial struggle to make it fit. He's not exactly small and you're still very tight...and scared. Yeah, that too. But you try to focus on his voice, his hand holding yours, the comforting weight of his body on yours. When he finally bottoms out, he has to take a minute to calm down and not come right away. The way you're fluttering around him and the warmth and softness of you are making him pass out. This is gonna be a huge problem for Jason, because this is the best feeling he ever had in his life. Of course, there are some bumps and mistakes along the way, but both of you quickly figure out the ins and outs of this. The night is filled with quiet giggles and soft moans until you fall asleep in each other's arms. Sore, exhausted, and grinning like fools.

(Bonus) Jason or you the next morning: Sorry I kept saying I love you. That was really cringe huh?

[reflectionfamily]

It’s not mania, it could be the start of something more. It’s never too late to catch the warning signs.

[attonitos-gloria]

"the first time that you kissed me I drank dry the River Lethe" was INSANE, by the way.