˖☁︎ fave other games: subnautica ⁺⋆ mass effect ⁺⋆ fallout 4 ☁︎˖
˖☁︎ it is absurd to have a hard-and-fast rule about what one should read and what one shouldn’t (the importance of being earnest) ☁︎˖
˖☁︎ welcome to my love and deepspace blog. rafayel is my main squeeze, but i write for (and love) all the boys. i’m also teaching myself digital art and occasionally make video edits ☁︎˖
˖☁︎ i’m looking to make friends in the fandom, so my asks and dms are open! ☁︎˖
˖☁︎ dividers by @/strangergraphics ☁︎˖
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#⁺⋆ aries writes ⇢ my fics
#⁺⋆ aries thinks ⇢ my thoughts and opinions about the game
all SYLUS wants for his birthday is you… begging — mdni
sylus was greedy—there was no denying it. he hoarded his money, his weapons, his sleek, overpriced cars. he always wanted the best, the rarest, the untouchable. and that same greed reached you, though not in the way one might expect. not material, nor shallow—but something deeper and different altogether. he craved your love, your attention, every fleeting piece of you.
so when you asked what he wanted for his birthday, the answer came easily.
you.
because to him, there was nothing better than having his perfect girl all to himself.
"i just want to spend the day with you, sweetie." he answered nonchalantly, wrapping a protective arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. "no need to get me anything. i already have everything i could ever want standing right in front of me."
you huffed at his stubbornness, ears burning at his smooth words and the small smirk tugging at his lips. "c'mon, sy… there must be something that you want? anything at all, you name it and it's yours."
sylus thought about it for a second longer before a shit eating grin replaced his smirk. "well… there's one thing i think i'd like to see if you'd be so gracious to indulge me, sweetheart."
you brightened, nodding your head without hesitation. "whatever you want, birthday boy!" you said, innocent and naive.
and, god, how you regret indulging in this twisted fantasy of his.
"i want to watch you play with yourself. show me how you'd make yourself cum if you didn't have me." he'd said slowly, that drawl of his made heat shoot straight to your core.
now you were perched on his king size bed, body wrapped in deep red lingerie with your fingers plunged in your cunt, tears slipping from your eyes and sweat beading on your heaving chest.
you didn't think it'd be hard considering you knew very well how to masturbate before sylus came into your life, but then he trained your body to his thick cock and his long, slender fingers. now you're ruined. you don't know how to cum without him. not even the three fingers fighting to find a rhythm inside of you can compare to the sheer size of him.
it's turned you desperate. you can't help but sob and cry for him. "pl-please, sy…" you beg. "need you, n-need your cock—mmph, please."
“but it’s my birthday, sweetie. you’d really be so cruel as to deny me this?” he lounged back in his chair, two fingers resting against his temple, head tipped just slightly as quiet amusement gleamed in his red eyes. his cock strained against the zipper of his pants, but he paid it no mind. "keep going for me, baby," he murmured, voice low, coaxing. "be a good girl and give me my present."
you huffed, lips turning down into a pout as you begrudgingly obliged. the only way out is through, you'd thought to yourself. maybe… just maybe, if you were able to get yourself to cum—even if it were a pitiful orgasm—sylus would finally take you the way you wanted.
the problem with this theory is you can't cum. no matter how much you fuck yourself with your fingers, how hard you pinch your clit with your free hand, how you finagle your hand against your sopping, throbbing, forlorn pussy, you just can't push yourself over the edge like you so dreadfully need.
sylus just watches bemused, stomach tightening every time you arch your back. your little moans and whines and desperate pleas make his pants tighter. he knows very well you won't be able to cum. it's what makes this all the more enjoyable—watching you struggle without him. it fills him with a great sense of pride. it's sadistic. he knows. but he fucking loves how deprived you are all for him.
it's been hours—realistically thirty minutes—of helplessness before you turn to him again. "sy… can't," you sniffle, tears streaming down your twisted face. you're broken and it traps a groan in his throat. "please fuck me—please… d-do whatever you want—use me. i-i-i don't care. jus' need you. need you to fuck me."
and really? how can he deny that.
he stands slowly, eye glowing as he stares back into your glassy ones. his hand leisurely unbuckles his belt, ignoring your whines for him to move faster. it's only after eons of him humming a stripping do you see his length spring out, slapping against his toned abdomen.
"tell me again…" he whispers while climbing onto the bed in between your shaking, glistening thighs. his warm hands grip them gently—the contact alone enough to make your body jolt with need as another wave of arousal spills out of you. "tell me what you want me to do."
"f-fuck—" you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp when you feel the bulbous head of his cock tease your dripping entrance. "oh fuck. sylus, please p-put it in."
"yeah?" he hums, pushing and inch of his tip, lips tugging up when he watches your jaw go slack and eyes roll back. "there, sweetheart. it's in."
"more… more," you sob, hands flying to his broad shoulders. "pl-please, please give it to me. please, sylus—use me how you want."
he smiles sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before whispering against the sweaty, heated skin. "as you wish, my love."
he plunges his cock deep inside of you in one go, stretching your walls to the shape of him, his tip nestling right against your cervix. he pulls away from you to watch your reaction and simultaneously pin your legs to your chest. his eyes flit between your face contorted in pleasure and your precious cunt swallowing him whole and it's dizzying—especially the way you're clamping around him uncontrollably… almost like—
"'m cumming. 'm gonna cum—shit—sylus!" your nails bite into his pale skin, leaving bloody crescents in their wake. you spasm underneath him, pussy stroking him with every pulse and jerk. your screams are silent, mouth pried open as nothing comes out besides the pathetic little croak from the back of your throat.
but sylus doesn't stop. he pulls out seconds after you unravel and rams back into you with more vigor, only enhancing the blissful orgasm. "look at you," he pants. "my sweet girl needs me, doesn't she? that's why you came as soon as i filled you up, yeah?"
your eyes roll back and a shattered, "yeah," comes out of your mouth joined by a line of drool spilling messily down the side of your face. "n-need you. always need you."
"fuck," he murmurs, cock twitching frantically at the sight of you. he can't help but press deep into you and spurt ribbon after ribbon into you prematurely with a loud groan that shakes you to your core. you gasp at the sensation—the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim. you roll your eyes back to him, white spots in your bleary vision, but you see the blush dusting over his cheeks and ears.
"you came." you say gently. there's no lilt to your voice, you're just stating a fact. almost like you can't believe how quick it happened.
he's not embarrassed about it when he replies, albeit he can barely catch his breath. "impossible not to when you're milking me dry, sweetheart… how can i resist such a pretty girl like you?"
you whimper, your mixed release overflowing in you just waiting to drench the satin sheets beneath you.
"sorry i went back on your gift." you whisper solemnly. "i just couldn't do it."
"you're the gift, my love." he says as a matter-of-fact. "plus, my birthday isn't over yet and if i can recall, you said to use you… am i right?"
you realize later the only thing sylus really wanted for his birthday is to hear you beg for him. hear how much you need him. that's what will keep him going till next year.
kit says… happy birthday to my beloved dragon <3 and thank u to my lovely kora ( @bruisedheaven )for making me feel like this wasn’t the worst thing ever, i love u. I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY MY FIRST FIC IN A MONTH LOL. reblogs and comments make my day just sayingggggg <3
Hi!! Just wanted to say I love your blog so much and always look forward to your posts! Could I request fluffy pre-relationship lads when you share an indirect kiss? I think it’d be so cute like just imagine they’re freaking out on the inside while reader is completely oblivious (´∀｀; )
𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluffy fluff! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚oh, please, this was an adorable idea! love the thought of making them lose their minds over a silly little indirect kiss! thanks for requesting, love Ꮚ ܸ ◞ . ◟𓂂꒱ ♡
𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭
it was so hot you could melt on the spot, hence why you asked your best friend if he could wait with a cold treat for when you came over.
naturally, he waited for you on the balcony, trying to get some fresh air since the apartment felt like an oven, even with the ac on.
he bought you a popsicle, which had been in the fridge until you came.
however, since it was way too hot, he started eating his as slowly as he could, hoping you wouldn't whine about him being impatient.
when you finally arrived, you were sweaty and breathing heavily, looking for anything that could cool you down.
instead of patiently going to the fridge and retrieving your favorite popsicle caleb diligently got for you, you walked towards him and took a bite out of the one he was holding.
the one he was eating.
the one that had been on his mouth.
the one that touched his lips and tongue.
his eyes went slightly wide as he watched you not only steal his cold treat, but… share something so shamelessly.
was he making it weirder than it actually was?
absolutely.
but were you giving him an indirect kiss?
yes.
yes, you were.
your tongue swirled where his tongue had been just seconds ago, and—
dear god.
“gosh, it's hot as hell today,” you mumbled, fanning your face with your hand before handing the popsicle back.
it sure fucking was.
“sorry for taking yours, i needed to freeze my brain. where's mine, by the way?”
caleb was still speechless, the image of your lips, your relief, your expression…
you probably tasted like the popsicle now, and since he had the same flavor on his tongue, he could almost say he was savoring you.
he could also imagine your tongue swirling against his, so soft and wet, so sweet, and… and… and—
“leb? you should head back inside!” you called out, walking towards the kitchen without him even noticing. “you're getting sunburned and red already!”
oh.
if you only knew it wasn't because of the sun…
he quickly moved and offered his popsicle back, his strong back covering the fridge entirely so you wouldn't peek inside.
“take it. i… forgot yours,” he said, to which you arched an eyebrow.
him?
forgetting?
“huh?” you didn't believe him at first, but seeing his flushed expression made you mistake it for sheepishness. “so you were eating mine, you thief? how nice of you, really…”
and yeah, he preferred being incriminated rather than stop seeing your lips doing whatever they were doing before.
you kept licking the melting popsicle absentmindedly, cooling yourself down while he stood there feeling like he was being slowly cooked alive instead.
“this flavor's really good, though,” you hummed.
yeah. he knew.
he could still taste it.
god, this was humiliating.
“you want some back?” you asked sweetly, offering it towards him again.
caleb nearly choked on air.
because now all he could think about was your saliva on the popsicle, your lips wrapped around it moments ago, your tongue—
“no,” he answered way too fast. “take it, angel.”
“you sure…? alright.”
he turned his face away immediately, resting a hand over his mouth as if that could somehow stop the disaster unfolding inside his head.
this heatwave was going to kill him eventually.
but this was as close as he got to knowing what a kiss from your lips tasted like, and he would enjoy the view a little bit more, even if it was the last thing he did.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭
he wouldn't lie, his ego was bruised after an admirer of his suggested a lip balm, since his lips looked a bit chapped during a conference.
but, hey, he lived under the sun, and he was constantly biting his lips when focusing, it was only natural!
usually, those comments didn't affect him, but this one… it got to him.
he wondered if you thought the same, if maybe you looked at his lips and considered them crusty and dry as the desert.
he could die of shame.
and so he bought said lip balm, “just because,” and because it was a “bargain.”
of course, since you went to his house quite a lot and considered yourself the second owner of everything, —because he let you, and because it was fun to prance around his huge place, acting high and mighty— you helped yourself to the interesting things he had, and one of the best places to explore was his bathroom.
he had tons of lotions, soaps, oils, salts, and… oh!
was that a lip balm?
just what you needed.
you hummed as you made a duck face in front of the mirror and dramatically applied the clear product to your already nourished and hydrated lips.
rafayel walked by, and immediately stopped in his tracks, his head tilting ridiculously.
his pretty eyes travelled across your hands, your lips, and then the counter.
you were, indeed, using his lip balm.
your lips were touching what he had been using that very same morning.
on his lips.
your lips.
his lips.
oh dear lord.
his knees buckled, yet he leaned against the doorframe, acting as if it were a nonchalant gesture.
“so, uh… you… you just come into my house and take ownership of everything, cutie?” his voice came out steady, thankfully, but the furious pink tainting his cheeks became more pronounced when you grinned unapologetically.
“yup!” you nodded, pressing your lips together. “this brand is so good, too!”
right.
not only were you stealing his stuff, but you were stealing his heart, too.
“why do you have one anyway? your lips aren't even dry,” you asked, turning to him and placing a hand on your hip. “or is it to make your lips look more luscious?”
he grinned automatically, bowing oh so deeply.
so you thought his lips looked good? that was amazing news.
“thank you, thank you. i knew people with good taste still lived among us…” he straightened up, only to find you getting closer. “but i just like to have one… just in case.”
“hmmm… here, put some on,” you offered.
and, once again, his confidence disappeared as quickly as it came, because the lip balm touched his lips, which meant your lips were indirectly touching his now… which also meant it was definitely considered a kiss.
“there! so glossy!” you grinned, rubbing your thumb against the corner of his lip to get rid of any excess. “you're welcome.~”
rafayel turned around abruptly, using his hands to cool down his burning face.
how could his heart possibly resist the mental image of what your soft lips would feel like against his, and then your tongue—
no!
“you— you… you can keep it. i don't really need it,” he stuttered, before fleeing into the next room with long strides and his eyes shut tightly.
you blinked, confused, but then smiled brightly.
you successfully got your hands on another thing of his, which took you a step further in becoming the owner of everything.
and that included his heart and soul, even when you didn't intend to.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭
you walked inside the living room after spending the entire day with the twins, and thought it would be a fantastic idea to bother your pesky partner in crime for a while.
he did the very same exact thing whenever you thought you'd have peace, so it was only fair.
he was obviously occupied with his phone, scrolling down with one finger, glasses perched over his sharp nose as he tried to decipher your “omg gaggg, fierce is fierce hunni xxx” comment under one of his posts.
he was still processing the twins' lingo, and you weren't helping at all.
you plopped down next to him and poked his cheek, grinning from ear to ear.
“what are you doing, sy? playing games? reading the news? online shopping?” you rested your chin on his shoulder, following his finger like a kitten watching a laser.
“i am browsing the net,” he simply said, to which you hummed in contemplation.
after some seconds of pure silence, you started to bounce by his side, poking his cheek, taking off his glasses, and, ultimately, picking up his mug and drinking some of his coffee.
usually, sylus would let you do as you pleased until you got bored and eventually walked out of the room, but…
there was something different today; something in the way your lips touched the very same spot his had earlier, without any shame at all.
he paused, looking at you, before looking down at your lips, his head now full of interesting… thoughts.
if your lips were over a spot he previously put his on, then you were tasting what his lips were like.
almost.
you probably tasted the coffee way more, but now the mug had a mix of both yours and sylus' mouths, and that, subsequently, described what a kiss was.
…or, well, technically.
“ugh, why's your coffee so bitter…? you need to sweeten up, sylus!” you pulled the mug away and placed it down. “do you enjoy suffering so much?”
ironically, you licked your lips clean; a bold move for someone who apparently despised his coffee.
it only made his pupils dilate a bit more, given your tongue now tasted what remained of him.
it sounded way more intimate than it really was inside his head, but this instinctive, almost primal curiosity was getting ahead of him.
“perhaps,” he mumbled.
when you least expected it, he took the mug, having carefully watched where and how you took a sip, just to replicate it seconds later.
now he was tasting your lips for a change, and while it wasn't the real thing, it sure as hell made him feel alive, even when his face was once again focused on the screen, and his expression remained calm.
you were too oblivious to notice this unintentional exchange of indirect kisses; and it wasn't as if you'd mind, either.
maybe sylus would actually kiss you one day.
after all, you were already “poking” his interest, both figuratively and literally.
but today wasn't that day; not when he knew you weren't being purposely charming.
instead, he grabbed your waist and pushed you away when you tried to climb onto his lap like a clingy cat.
“stay put,” he quietly said. “and don't touch my coffee if you find it so… appalling.”
but oh, he knew that would only make you finish it out of spite, and that's exactly what you did, once again creating that brief connection between the two of you.
he would now think of more ways to get you to (technically) kiss him so, so shamelessly and eagerly.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭
xavier and you were having a lazy day, surrounded by snacks, board games you guys had become too bored with, and the low melody of your favorite playlist playing in the background.
you were munching on some popcorn, all while xavier opened a new little box, almost a little bit too secretly.
it's not like he didn't like to share, but… somehow, every time he opened a snack, your supersonic hearing made you turn to him and ask him to give you some, which ended up in him giving everything to you.
come on, he just couldn't resist your pretty eyes and your hopeful expression without feeling like a monster.
and since he was being way too quiet and sneaky all of a sudden, you obviously turned to him, finding a long, chocolate-covered stick between his teeth.
his eyes went a bit wide, knowing he had been caught in the act.
“gotcha…” you whispered, narrowing your eyes. “what's that?”
he didn't answer; still like a petrified bunny being cornered by wolves.
or, in this case, a very hungry and charming big, bad wolf.
you crawled closer to him on the sofa, outstretching your hand.
“sharing is caring, xavi,” you mumbled, trying to sound sweet, but it only made him lean back, further away from you. “come oooon, be nice…”
he didn't want to.
he knew that once he gave you the box, you wouldn't share a single pocky, and this time, he put himself first.
however, what he didn't expect was for you to cage him in and take a bite out of the sticking-out end of the pocky, barely brushing his lips as you did so.
his body shut down right there, and while his jaw wanted to snap open, he wouldn't risk losing the other half and let you get a full victory.
“there, you can keep your half,” you grinned victoriously after swallowing, taking the box from his slender fingers. “let's see, almond chocolate-covered pocky, limited edition…”
your voice faded in his mind as he stayed there, frozen and shocked.
your lips had… had touched his, albeit faintly.
but they had.
your face was so close to his, your lips were so soft, your scent invaded his nostrils unapologetically…
his entire face became flushed, his azure eyes travelling anywhere but your face.
he wanted that to happen again, and again, and again.
so, when he finally came to his senses, he opened yet another bag of snacks, which contained spicy chips this time, and he placed one between his teeth, acting all secretive again.
as expected, you jerked your head around and narrowed your eyes.
“keeping more secrets from me, huh? what's that?”
he tried to pull back, acting oh so guilty, and you basically took a bite so quickly he barely had time to register that your precious lips had brushed against his again.
this was heaven.
“you've got a secret stash or something? because that's not very nice of you, y'know?” you sighed and shook your head dramatically. “every time you share with me, new flowers bloom, by the way. just so you know.”
well.
if that was the case, he'd gladly feed you from his lips so that spring would last forever.
he pulled another pocky stick from the box and placed it between his lips, his voice now slightly taunting, even when his eyes held that faux innocence and surrender.
“come get it…”
and it worked, since you gladly took another bite, this time not noticing xavier's pursed lips and closed eyes.
maybe sharing everything with you wouldn't be so bad anymore.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭
it was late at night, and you were still in the kitchen, watching and trying out all of those cooking hacks and easy recipes you saved on your phone.
of course, you ended up with thousands of different dishes and snacks, and you had no idea what to do with all of them, so… you called the only sane, nocturnal person who would come over after work.
zayne.
he usually ended up starving after his shifts, and you knew he would always say yes to you, no matter how frustrating it was for him.
after a few hours, said doctor was at your door, not knowing what to expect other than a few containers with food that would certainly save him a lot of time.
however, when you pulled him inside, he saw lots of differently shaped apples, homemade chips, uh… carrot gummies (for some reason), multiple, muuuultiple ways of cooking potatoes, healthy chocolate bars, and, thankfully, lasagna in the oven.
you grinned proudly, gesturing towards your kitchen with a tired but pleased expression.
“now… you're witnessing something amazing,” you nodded seriously. “not only will you have the best snacks of your life, but you'll learn how easy they were to make!”
oh god.
this would take hours.
you explained each plate with excitement, pushing your failures into the trash without blinking, smiling as if you didn't know what was going on.
“the best part is, i nailed everything on the first try!”
“...of course you did.”
the more he looked around, the more he noticed the mess.
he was about to complain, when you appeared with a spoon, guiding it to his lips.
“try it,” you urged, not even giving him time to process as you pushed your hand further.
he blinked in surprise before watching you take said spoon to your lips, licking it softly.
“good, no? that was the new mashed potatoes recipe i saw…” and as you kept talking, zayne's brain went blank.
the only thing replaying in his mind was how you took the spoon out of his mouth and licked it clean yourself.
the spoon.
the one that touched his tongue—
his ears went red almost immediately, and you tilted your head.
“oh no, is it too spicy? i swear i only added a dash of pepper! …or was it cayenne pepper? hold on—”
he was frozen in place, unmoving, unreactive.
his glasses fogged up, and he didn't even register the mild burn on his tongue.
he was way more focused on your tongue, or rather, your tongue touching his.
not directly.
but his mind quickly painted said picture, and it wasn't unpleasant; quite the contrary, really.
he could almost taste your lips, feel the foreign sensation of your tongues tangled together, and—
…and you came back with a glass of milk, pouting slightly.
“sorry! i might've gotten a bit excited with the spices… it's okay if you don't want any! i'll pack the rest of the food so that you have something to eat for weeks!” you eagerly announced, and he took the glass, taking a sip.
“it… is fine. do not forget the lasagna.”
he needed to freshen up, like, immediately.
but what he also needed was to stop imagining sharing more things with you, like this glass, or a lollipop, or… or a kiss.
a lingering, direct kiss that made him flush even harder than the spices did.
“oh, right! i haven't tried it yet,” you softly said. “wanna try it out, zaynie?”
I’m on vacation right now and there was a traditional dance performance and it got me thinking about my blorbo Rafayel cause everything does lol.
Imagine you and Rafayel go on vacation to a tropical island and there’s some salsa dancers so Rafie grabs your hand and starts dancing with you.
“Do you even know how to salsa?” You laugh, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
“Fake it till you make it, baby,” Raf responds with a grin, though you have the sneaking suspicion that he must’ve taken lessons at some point with the effortless way he spins you across his body, releasing you with one hand to catch you with the other. By the end of the dance, you’re both giggling messes and you feel like you’re walking on air.
I’m on vacation right now and there was a traditional dance performance and it got me thinking about my blorbo Rafayel cause everything does lol.
Imagine you and Rafayel go on vacation to a tropical island and there’s some salsa dancers so Rafie grabs your hand and starts dancing with you.
“Do you even know how to salsa?” You laugh, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
“Fake it till you make it, baby,” Raf responds with a grin, though you have the sneaking suspicion that he must’ve taken lessons at some point with the effortless way he spins you across his body, releasing you with one hand to catch you with the other. By the end of the dance, you’re both giggling messes and you feel like you’re walking on air.
can i ask for servant! rafayel x princes! reader free use for the event
congratulations for 2k btw
servant! rafayel x princess! reader + free use
a/n. i always wanted to write a servant x noble, thank you for requesting this! hope you enjoy ❤️
event page | masterlist
the weight of your huge gown pooled around your ankles, brushing the hard wood floor, falling in layers upon layers of pale pink, embroidered with tiny, gleaming constellations.
you sat before your vanity, the expensive mirror reflecting a princess who looked exactly as the fair maidens that books described:
composed, cheeks faintly flushed, reddish lips slightly parted, eyes soft, fixed somewhere in the middle distance.
no one would’ve ever guessed that your favourite servant was kneeled between your legs, carefully hidden by the skirts of your dress.
rafayel had slipped beneath your gown five minutes ago, just before your chambermaids entered your room.
you remember the heat of his whisper against your wet lips as he broke free from a promiscuous kiss — “don’t make a sound, my princess.”— and the way he kneeled beneath your vanity table, covering himself with your garments.
you remember how his calloused hands parted your legs, how his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your thighs.
taking what he craved so badly, without even caring about anything else.
now tara was brushing out your hair, her movements slow and methodical, while simone was heating the curling tongs by the fireplace. they chattered softly about the evening’s ball, about which lords have arrived at court, about the quality of the new shipment of rose oil from the southern provinces.
you could barely hear them over the thunder of your own pulse.
rafayel’s mouth was on you.
he had your cunt spread open with his thumbs, his tongue working in broad, greedy stripes from your weeping, pulsing hole to the aching bud of your clit.
he was devouring you like a man starved, carrying a shameless hunger that made your thighs tremble against his ears.
you could feel the wet heat of his breath, the firm press of his nose against your clit, the way he moaned into your flesh like you were a delicacy.
all while your chambermaids attended to you.
“ah–”
you let out softly, gripping the edge of the vanity. trying to keep your composure.
“your highness? is the chair uncomfortable?” tara, always so attentive, asked through the haze. she even stopped brushing, leaning in to check on your wellbeing.
you shook your head rapidly, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. “no, no. please, continue.”
your voice came out steadier than you expected, thank gods.
rafayel, listening in, decided to reward your composure by sucking your clit into his mouth, tightening his lips harder around the swollen flesh.
you had to bite the inside of your cheek to not cry out in pleasure.
but what could be hidden... that was none of your concern. as such, your hips jerked involuntarily, pressing yourself against his face, and he let out a sound of approval, vibrating directly into your most sensitive parts.
very pleased by your reactions.
simone returned with the heated tongs as if on cue. tara started to section your hair and, together, they began to curl away, softly giggling at whatever gossip they’ve heard recently.
beneath your skirts, rafayel had lost all pretense of restraint.
he pulled back just enough to see your soaked pussy, his lips slick with spit and arousal. a short guttural moan escaped his throat, but it was not registered by the chatty maids.
rafayel dived back in happily, tongue plunging into your entrance, lapping up every bit of wetness you produced.
the sounds were obscene — wet, sloppy, rhythmic — and you prayed that the rustle of your gown and the hiss of the curling iron masked them.
and to your dismay, the besieging only intensified.
his fingers joined the torture, sliding into your needy hole with ease, curling upwards to find that spot that makes your vision blur in extasy. he scissored them gently, stretching you, while his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit.
good heavens, that combination was lethal.
you were so close. the pressure built in your lower belly, a coil tightening with every stroke, every flick, every breathy exhale of his against your sensitive pussy.
you wanted to grab his hair. you wanted to grind down on his face until you suffocated him.
you wanted to have him just like he was having you.
instead, you sat perfectly still as simone pinned your curls.
“yes, prince xavier is said to be quite handsome.” tara mused, unaware that your legs were shaking, that you weren’t — and couldn’t be — paying attention to their gossip. “perhaps he’ll seek you out.”
rafayel chuckled against your cunt at that. his fingers pumped faster, harder, and his mouth sealed around your clit in a harsh suction.
making his opinion on that neighbouring prince obvious.
your legs clasped around his head violently, quivering uncontrollably from the incoming orgasm.
“your highness?” simone tilted her head. “are you unwell?.”
you managed a breathless laugh. “i am just… a bit anxious.”
beneath your skirts, rafayel doubled his efforts. now he was fucking you with his tongue and his fingers in turns, an unceasing rhythm that left no part of you untouched.
he licked at your entrance, then trailed upwards to suck your clit, only to return to thrust his tongue inside you as deep as possible.
and with that, the coil snapped.
your orgasm crashed over you without warning; your teeth sank into your lower lip until you tasted copper, trying to muffle your erotic moans.
you let out only the softest, quietest whimper, barely audible over the crackle of the fire.
rafayel, ever the dutiful servant, worked you through it, tongue gentle and soothing, collecting every last drop of your release.
“there.” tara said, stepping back to admire her work. “you look perfect, your highness.”
in the mirror, you saw a princess with elegant curls piled atop her head, with very flustered cheeks and glistening eyes.
between your legs, rafayel pressed one final kiss to your inner thigh. his lips, wet when they brushed your skin, quietly mumbled the same verdict as tara:
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You had made a mistake. The mistake being having ordered more Lumiere merchandise and forgetting to schedule it on a day where your boyfriend wouldn’t be home.
So here you were now, sitting beside a very sulky Xavier as you tried to cheer him up, but nothing seemed to work.
“Oh c’mon Xavier, its just merch, Lumiere is just, he is just so adorable.”
Wrong move, all that earned you was a deeper frown and an even more prominent pout from your boyfriend who just crossed his arms and looked away.
What a baby.
Fuck, he was so cute.
You try your very best not to show him how excited this adorable behavior of his got you as you come closer, and obviously he doesn't move away.
Xavier loved you. He loved everything about you. If anyone asked him what his favorite thing in the world was his answer would be immediate.
You.
You on the other hand didn’t seem to share the same feelings as him, because clearly you loved someone much more than him, that thought only makes the silver haired man frown even more.
“Xavier please. Stop sulking.” You truly wanted your boyfriend to stop being sad, but if anyone peeled the truth out of you, they would know that deep down you wanted him to continue on and act even more spoiled.
And that’s exactly what he does. Gosh he was truly so lovely.
With a side glance at you he speaks up. “If it were Lumiere who was sulking you probably would be kissing him and telling him how he is the best.” He juts out his lip and you stop yourself from biting it.
You smile, a mischievous idea coming to you.
With a nod you lean your body closer at first, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. “Yes, Lumiere is the best.” You watch as he looks at you with faux anger as you slowly straddle his hips.
Even with his sulking he doesn’t shy away from putting his hands firmly on the sides of your waist, squeezing as you settle yourself on his lap. His blue eyes grow dark as you smile down at him. Even in his frustration he cannot hide his utter devotion to you.
“Lumiere is the best.” You repeat, now leaning closer. Your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper your next sentence. “But Shen Xinghui is my favorite.”
Oh.
Oh.
You cannot even let out the giggle that was bubbling out of you that you are cut off by a rough kiss. Xavier’s hand coming to the back of your head and pressing your hard against him, not letting you escape. Not like you wanted to. You just melt against the large man and let him take what he wants.
He only breaks the kiss when you tap him for air.
Fuck he was so pretty, cheeks flushed, lips pink and swollen from kissing you, and light silver hair mussed from where you had pulled during your makeout.
However the cutest part were the little light particles that were floating around him, betraying his true feelings even if he was still frowning at you.
So he was no longer mad huh.
“Say it again.” He demands, and you giggle.
“You can’t fool me, I know my pretty boy is no longer mad, he is glowing like the brightest of stars right now.” You giggle and he pouts, burying his face in your neck.
“Shen Xinghui will always be my favorite. No one could ever replace him.” You say, kissing the top of his head.
When he looks up you think you fall in love with him all over again, the most happy hopeful look has taken over the features of your lover and you wonder. Would a spring wedding be better or an autumn one?
Aight folks, first time posting on tumblr, kinda need more xavier fics
Starting a little drabble game to get into the habit of writing more and stressing less about engagement! Restricting myself to 250 words per drabble-- got a random word generator (and made a random generator for the LIs) so should get a good mix! :D
You drag a finger down the frosted glass of the claw machine, gazing longingly at the sheep plush trapped on the other side. The whole machine looks like a morbid snow globe. Half the plushies are buried in snow, or impaled on spikes of ice— a warning to the one you want, who smirks at you from a corner the claw couldn’t quite reach.
Stupid little sheep. So cute. So round. So stubborn.
Zayne is arguing with the arcade owner. No, not arguing; he wouldn’t like you calling it that. He’s calmly and collectedly making his case: insisting, yes, he will pay for the damages, and yes, yes, he’s very sorry, of course. Evols play up sometimes. Spontaneously? Yes, that’s right. He’s a doctor, you see, so he knows about these things.
The owner’s having none of it. He’s never seen something like this before, he’s saying. He’s even throwing around words like ‘unprecedented’, and— ooh… ‘uncivilised’.
Zayne? Your Zayne? Uncivilised?
You can tell the doctor is losing his patience. His jaw is tightening up, and the ice on the claw machine is inching higher again. When he comes back over to you, he’s got his game face on. Wanderer-slaying. Patient-saving.
Sheep-herding, you hope. “Got any other ideas?” you ask, palm resting on the chilled glass.
Zayne gives a curt, almost military nod. “Six,” he states evenly.
“Civilised?”
The sheep is still smirking at you, and the corner of Zayne’s lips lift a fraction. “No.”
If you remember this post from me, I have been waiting this to be voiced, ah finally 🥹I'll upload the entire thing to @rafsvoicelines once I record the other half of this, but I had to share this now 😭🥰
Meditation quality time anyone? I would so need that 😭
Felt like doing a simple Sylus fanart before Aprilus ends. A little aftermath after celebrating his bday (I'm just obsessed with the plushie man)
Anyway, I like to think that after being gifted the plushie on his birthday, Sylus likes to buy mini versions of the outfits in his wardrobe so his plushie could match with him at all times.
