₊ ᘐ ꒰my messy akaza related writing! ₊˚ ・

⋚ㆍ⌈ kirby ᐥ

☆﹕❀﹒welcome to a new chapter~!

I lied. There is no kirby. This has nothing to do with kirby.

﹒category ﹒ıllı﹢= oneshots but shorter and some are incomplete
→characters﹐⿴﹒= akaza, fem!y/n
ᶻz note﹒♡﹐= if you want me to continue writing any of them, please lmk! if not please comment your thoughts :0 tysmm

IMPORTANT: THE BELOW CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT. proceed at your own risk
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⨯ ↷˚let's start!﹕⺌﹒✧◟

1- shower sex? idk

'care to let me join?' he asks lowly.

the thin robe he's wearing is slipping off from his broad shoulders, and you almost drool at the sight. His white pants are tied so tauntingly low on his perfectly sculpted hips that- oh, you're more than sure is made on purpose. Golden eyes darken in desire as they take in your beautiful form that you've just lifted out of the silky water.

'please,' you reply, leaning forward to slip the rest of his robe off. water drips to his feet.

*the best fucking sight,* you whisper to yourself, as the entirety of his chest reveals itself to you. your hungry gaze travels down to the thick, teal waistband.

'In a moment, love,.' he says, and your mouth dries at the way, as if unable to tear away, his eyes remain shamelessly pinned to the swell of your chest.

you smile, and let his bare arms wrap around your waist. His touch is warm but possessive, roaming over your skin with the simple fact that all of you belonged to him. It lifts you up, placing you snugly on his waist, and presses you to the cool bathroom wall that's-

Your shiver in his hold, and his lips leave yours. 'Anything wrong?' he asks you. Your heart jumps at the ease in which he reads you.

'The wall's a little cold, that's all.'

He's quick to accommodate, switching your positions in an instant. You return your mouth to his in a searing kiss. It's your turn to touch him as you want, now, and you let your mouth trail down to his collarbone, where you trace the curve of his skin. Your hands run down his tones stomach and down to the thick rope holding the last of his sanity together.

You rip it off in a second.

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2- metaphor i used while writing one of my longer wips and it kinda spiralled in this drabble and now idk what to do with it (i wont continue this tho)

he was the world-class musician, you his fine tuned instrument, pliant and ever so responsive under every press of his fingers, every flick of his tongue.

Expertly, he draws the strings of your delicate heart, plucking it to coax the beautiful, high notes out of you that he loves. the heavenly music to his ears, for him and him only.

he swore to never allow another soul to listen or play with what is solely his.

like every other musician, he adored his instrument all too much. making sure you were in prime condition always, inspecting, cleaning you well after every use. he brought his prized instrument wherever he went, the only difference being that you weren't locked in a nice, padded case.