Joining up with Finan had been the best decision Xavier had ever made. Traveling with him, fighting with him, and on occasion Xavier and Finan would share a kiss in private when no one could see them. Sometimes going so slow killed him, but the risk was too great when Finan hadn't ever been with another man.
They finally settled into a town though, they shared a home just as they'd spoken about. Xavier worked as a smith, and when he wasn't smithing he was training with the lot of them.
After a long day, Xavier washed up in the lake and then made his way back to their home, happy to see Finan when he opened the door. "Oy', how was training today?" Xavier asked, locking the door behind him.
Xavier didn’t usually consider himself a violent person. He hated blood really, couldn’t even look at a butcher shop window without feeling at least a little sick. He was an omega, a rarity in his kingdom, and by the time he’d hit his teens, his parents had already been receiving betrothal offers for quite some time, and, at least up until the day before, Xavier had thought he’d picked the best of his options - a merchant who, while older than him, had had enough money to keep him quite comfortable. Or at least, so he thought. Turned out, his betrothed Montgomery was a coniving bastard of a man, who’d convinced him to go on a stroll shortly before their marriage was supposed to take place, only to shove him into a cellar for a night. It turned out, after his ships had been captured by pirates, he was growing desperate to find a way to recoup his losses and repay his debts - which was where Xavier came in.
Hauled to the auctions before dawn a few days earlier, Xavier had spent the last two days in a cramped and crowded cell, more like a cage than anything, the only sounds to be heard the soft sobbing of omegas and occasional taunts by the guards, although a female omega the next row down seemed to have nearly endless lungs as she screamed out a series of names and threats over and over again. And, after two days of that, Xavier was eager to get out of there, even if it meant standing in line while Alphas filed by, waiting with baited breath until it was his turned to be displayed in front of the crowd, for someone to purchase him like a piece of property. // @thcblackrosc
Xavier hated being sick. Especially the kind of sick that knocked him on his ass for a week. Because of his OCD, Xavier struggled making a mess of things with tissues, it was a whole ordeal. The worst part for him though was running out of cough drops when he wasn't supposed to leave the house. He refused to spread the illness. So, though he hated to ask for help, Xavier sent a text to Cemre to ask for her help.
[Text]: Hey, any way I can get you to grab me a package of extra strength cough drops?
[Text]: Or just take me out back and shoot me..
He'd gotten a text that she would help out, so Xavier took himself a little nap and waited for her to come in with her key. When he woke an hour or two later, there was still no Cemre. It was a little unsettling that she never got back to him. A few days went by and Xavier really started to worry. He was back to work, and knowing her car was in the shop, he headed to a yard to pick up a part he needed. When he got there though, panic coursed through him. The first car he saw carried a sticker he'd put on her bumper. This wrecked to shit car, it was a car he knew.
To her house he went in a hurry, parking haphazardly, leaving his drivers side door open with his keys in the ignition and rushed to her door. "CEMRE!" The man shouted, banging on the door. "CEMRE TELL ME YOU'RE IN THERE!"
This was crazy. What the fuck was he doing? Xavier looked down at the colored rose in his hand and for a moment he considered ditching it. Each step into the studio was harder to take than the last. He and Alina had been together for a bit now, they'd known each other for even longer. He'd been there before to help with sets when they needed someone handy but this was a first. A visit just to visit. He'd cleaned himself up, but his dark dress shirt rolled to the elbow and his dark jeans stuck out among the soft aesthetic. Swallowing his anxiety, Xavier leaned in the doorway and as if she was a magnet his gaze was drawn right to her. Who was he to interrupt? A few of the girls off to the side of the floor were whispering, he could hear them well enough from where he stood but he stayed rooted with his feet just outside the door to avoid scuffing the polished wood floor. When her eyes found his, the man couldn't stop the little smile that painted a crooked smile on his face.
“you know, it defeats the purpose of me making pancakes if you eat all the strawberries and nutella before they’re even done.” (xavier is making them, ehe)
Xavier looked up guiltily with a strawberry dipped in Nutella just passing his lips. "I don't see you back here slavin' over the stove. When it's you're turn you can decide what defeats the purpose," The man tried to defend himself even with a mouthful. She was right though. Absolutely correct. If he kept going unchecked, they'd be very basic pancakes in no time. "You should probably take them away from me though to be safe."
Xavier knew all too well that it was Cemre's birthday and when the celebration died down, when they headed out side by side, he was sure he'd have a private moment to wish her as much. At least he'd had the chance earlier that day when he brought her lunch. He hated how he jealously watched her from across the room, tuning out conversation he was supposed to be part of while nursing a glass of champagne. After the first hour though, he had to force himself to try to have a good time. In the end though, all his mingling landed him right at Cemre's side to count down to the new year. They hit one and it seemed she had the same idea he had because his lips were met half way with the woman next to him. A woman he never thought he'd get the chance to kiss. When she pulled back and whispered, he dared not loosen his arm from around her waist. "Happy new year.. and happy birthday," the man whispered softly, grinning into the small space between them.
️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️touches remind him of SALVATION─────── as if there was a chance in hell she was anything close to the ANGEL she resembled. there’s an urgency to them that he mimics in his own PAINED breaths. she responded fucking BEAUTIFULLY; he never wanted to stop, his own TASTE on her sweetening, as teeth leave little marks. UNTIL… HER TOUCH HALTS HIM.
️ ️
️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️LIKE PAIN, it consumes him all too quickly, in a way he’s UNWILLING and UNABLE to control─────── her HANDS pure fucking magic. lips parting, the constant scowl falls… in a MOMENT of vulnerability, before ANGER RESETS IT. everything she makes him feel is fucking ANGERING, as he bites down on her shoulder HARD, with her far from SWEET MOVEMENTS.
️ ️
️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️’ KAIRI… ’ the groan escapes without his PERMISSION. is it a THREAT? a WARNING? a PLEA? if it was DEFEAT, he’d fucking lose─────── forcing his HANDS to grip the ARMRESTS, so that they don’t fucking HURT skin he wants to DEVOUR. jaw locked, he’s watching her through DARK ONYX… a single hand gets lost amid TANGLED BLONDE LOCKS.
️ ️
️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️chest building in anticipation, IN SOMETHING─────── he LOSES HER TOUCH, for a brief moment. it gives him back a piece of the control he’d ceded… but HE SEES IT. it’s only a flicker, but he’s INTENT on the clouded topaz, ATTUNED to the moans, THE LITTLE SOUNDS, and for a moment… XAVIER FEELS AFRAID. the good kind. the ECSTATIC KIND.
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️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️HE ALMOST BIT OFF HIS OWN LIP AS SHE SANK. slowly, quickly─────── XAVIER STOPPED FUCKING BREATHING. he is SHOCKED, but he can’t fucking feel that past the first nanosecond, INSTEAD feeling the sweet fucking HEAT, the sweet fucking SENSATION of being IN HER, of FEELING HER the exact way he wanted ever since she TAUNTED HIM-
️ ️
️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ever since she DARED play with HIM. for a moment, he felt completely out of control─────── as if he was a stupid FIFTH YEAR who’d never felt THIS before. as if he was just PUTTY in her hands, just KAIRI CASTLE’S TOY. and FUCK, he wanted to BE, but he COULDN’T. besides, if he didn’t MOVE, he’d FUCKING… COMBUST. hands claw harshly at her HIPS.
️ ️
️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️ ️’ MOVE FOR ME, KAIRI. ’ AN ORDER. he wanted to SEE HER─────── WORSHIP HER, as hips thrust UPWARDS and his FUCKING SOUL became trapped in his throat. MOVEMENTS turned erratic; hands RACED to her backside again, PULLING HER UP AND DOWN, enraptured in her. then hand reached for hers, fingers intertwining… as he ran it DOWN HER BODY.
