Day 1 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation 2024 hosted by @xxsycamore
Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Sylus x f!reader
Tags: mdni, nsfw, smut, anonymous sex, vaginal sex, creampie, pwp, light aftercare
Prompts: Anonymous Sex | “We can go, or we can stay here and fuck.”
ao3 link here.
You noticed him the moment you walked in. It was hard not to, he was tall, muscular, and while his face was hidden, you could tell underneath the mask he was wearing that he had striking features. He commanded attention, evident by every gaze, both male and female, following him as he moved throughout the room.
You took a sip of your drink, a tonic water with lime, from a corner of the lavishly decorated ballroom observing the crowd of party attendees all wearing masks of their own. The Hunter’s Association had received a tip earlier that week that the leader of Onychinus would be in attendance at a masquerade ball, and you had been tasked with running reconnaissance in order to identify the potential leader. Other than the lead, the leader would be in attendance, The Hunter’s Association knew nothing about the crime boss of the N109 Zone, not their gender, their age, nor their appearance. You knew absolutely nothing.
Your eyes flickered from person to person, scrutinizing their mannerisms and associates for any clues as to their identity, but you found your eyes glancing back at the tall silver-haired stranger every so often only to forcibly tear them away to focus on your mission before they drifted back again. It was just so damn hard to keep your eyes off of him. He looked absolutely delicious in his black suit with red lightning bolt accents, his eyes flashing with an irresistible charisma that drew you in wanting to know more.
He moved through the room gracefully, stopping to converse with various groups of party goers as if he’d know them for years, though it was hard to tell if he did truly know them or not. While the masks didn’t completely cover one’s face, they covered a good portion making it difficult to identify the person in question though the mouth was left visible to make it convenient for attendees to eat and drink in merriment.
You prowled the perimeter of the room, preferring to observe the crowd in solitude without any — or mostly any — distractions. A breeze ran through your legs causing you to involuntarily press your thighs together. A long slit ran up the side of your dress practically exposing you to your panty line. Another couple inches higher, and the world would be able to see the black, lacy thong you were wearing as part of your undercover attire.
You snuck another glance, but frowned when you realized the man in question was nowhere to be seen where he had just been a moment ago. You swept your eyes left and right searching for a sign of this mysterious man without any success. The man in question stood at over six feet tall with broad shoulders, there was no possible way you would miss him in a crowd of any size.
“Looking for someone?”
You jumped at the deep, silky drawl in your ear, their breath tickling your neck. You spun around only to find yourself face to face with the very same man you were looking for.
He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement, his face uncomfortably close to yours. “Sorry, sweetie, did I startle you?”
“N-no.” Your voice cracked, entranced by his hypnotizing crimson eyes. “Not at all.”
He arched an eyebrow, indicating he didn’t believe you, but he pulled back. You exhaled in relief. Somewhere in between his captivating gaze and his face being so close to yours you could practically kiss him, you had forgotten to breathe. Your face felt hot, though that wasn’t the only place where you felt the heat. A sweet flush spread throughout your core, the building of your arousal causing you to involuntarily clamp your thighs together for the second time that evening.
The man hummed. His eyes bore into yours with such a knowing gleam you wondered if he knew just how turned on you were by his mere presence. You took a sip of your drink to wet your parched mouth, the cool liquid running down your throat doing nothing to quench the lust burning inside you.
“So, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to this evening?”
“Alice.” You offered your alias for the evening, a small arms dealer new to the N109 Zone. “You?”
“Sylus.”
Something about his name stirred a faint memory, but you couldn’t recall what it might be with how muddled your head had become. You couldn’t even recall why you were originally here in this plush ballroom wearing a sleek dress and a mask that covered most of your face.
“Pleasure to meet you,” you breathed out.
Sylus leaned in again, his cologne bathing you in a cloud of some sort of spice you couldn’t identify, the scent of which mixing with his own natural scent was sending you into a state of dizzy heat. He brought his mouth right by your ear, so close his lips brushed against you in an electrifying jolt, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips.
“Am I wrong to assume that you’re incredibly taken by my presence?” He all but purred into your ear. He placed his hand onto the small of your back pulling you in closer. “Because if I’m being honest, I must admit I’m quite taken with you.”
You gulped. Audibly. You suddenly wished you weren’t wearing a thong at how wet you felt yourself growing in response to the pheromones permeating off of this man.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean,” you stammered, doing a poor job of hiding how turned on you were.
“Kitten, I think we both know what I mean.” Sylus ran his hand up your thigh slipping under the skirt and lightly brushing along the soaked crotch of your underwear.
You quivered at his touch, all pretense of composure thrown out the window, a tiny mewl escaping you. Your mind clouded over in a lustful haze. All you could think about was how hungry you were for this man, how desperate you were for his lips to be on yours, his hands to tease you relentlessly, and for him to fill you to your absolute core, your mission be damned.
“I— Nngh!” Your body jerked when Sylus pressed his finger firmly against your clit.
“Kitten, we can go, or we can stay here and fuck. Which would you prefer?” His finger firmly stroked you over your thong.
You licked your lips, now bone dry, knowing that you were only growing slicker from his caress. “Stay here and fuck,” you whispered, your body involuntarily bucking against him.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Fuck— Fuck me, please,” you pleaded, tears beginning to form in your eyes at how much you wanted him to take you. “Please.”
“As you wish,” Sylus murmured.
He whisked you away to a bathroom in a quiet hallway just as lavish as the venue, dimly lit with plush, red velvet seats and gold accents. As soon as the door locked behind you, he brought his lips to yours in a searing, bruising kiss, hungry and demanding. The intensity of his kiss caused your knees to buckle, but Sylus caught you before you dropped to the ground, picking you up easily and seating you on the cold marble of the vanity. He spread your legs open at your knees with his broad hands until they straddled his waist, the slit of your dress exposing your lacy, black thong for him to view.
“Hm?” Sylus quirked an eyebrow at the sight. “Didn’t see you as the lacy thong type.” His hands slid up your thighs, his firm grip giving away just how affected he was by the fabric barely containing your desire. He took in how your sweet nectar leaked out the sides glistening on your upper thighs, his eyes darkening at the sight.
“I’m full of surprises,” you breathed out, shivering at the primal need overtaking him.
His lips crashed onto yours again, in a series of mind-numbing, toe-curling kisses, each kiss pushing you further into a disoriented haze of pleasure. You softly moaned into his mouth feeling him tense with each erotic moan you let out.
“Fuck, I want to taste you.”
Sylus roughly yanked you off the vanity, spinning you around until you were bent over at the waist with both palms flat on the marble surface. He roughly pushed the crotch of your thong to the side with one hand running his finger in your arousal while his other hand undid his belt and pulled his slacks down just enough to free himself. Sylus trailed kisses along your neck while he slid his length along your sex coating himself in your sweet honey. The tip brushed against your throbbing clit, each brush releasing a guttural groan from deep within your belly.
You could feel Sylus’s breath quicken on your skin, his fingernails digging into the sides of your hips to the point of leaving crescent shaped bruises. He slipped in the tip, the sudden stretching of your opening snapping your head back against his chest along with a sharp exhale, walls clenching around him.
“Hah.. you’re taking me so well,” Sylus growled, sinking in further, stretching you with his dick.
You closed your eyes, arching your back into him. Sylus buried his head into the crook of your neck, wrapping a firm arm around your chest to hold you flush against him, fully burying himself in your warmth. His mask felt cold on your skin, the chill in contrast to the fever overtaking you adding to the pleasure you felt.
“God, you feel so good,” he grunted, rubbing his nose into your neck, thrusting into you with an animalistic fervor.
He pushed into you deeply, hitting your cervix with each thrust, each deep thrust sending a wave of pleasure throughout your core, moans tumbling from you so quickly he could barely keep up.
“Harder,” you panted, bucking your hips back to take him in deeper. “Take me harder.”
“Heh…” Sylus smirked, snapping his hips into you so sharply, you saw stars when he drove into your cervix.
“Oh, fuck.” You clenched around him, eliciting a hiss from Sylus behind you.
“Kitten, if you— clench like that— I can’t— I can’t hold on.”
You felt your consciousness slipping from his deep assault, the ecstasy building deep within your core ready to explode, but you still felt a spark of glee at knowing that this mysterious man you knew nothing about was also barely holding on to his sanity. The glee lasted only for a minute because you finally exploded, a strangled, mewling cry erupting from you in a passionate release. “Sylus!” On impulse you added, begging, “Cum— cum inside— Nngh, inside me.”
Sylus responded with deep, guttural grunts in sync with his feverish rutting, pounding your hips into his. “God, kitten, you feel— you feel amazing.” He allowed himself to let go, slamming himself into you down to the hilt, erupting in spurts, which you could feel shooting inside you and dribbling down the inside of your thighs.
He didn’t pull out immediately, keeping you plugged while he softened from the expenditure, panting into your hair. You allowed yourself to relax into his embrace, his arms wrapped around you in a cozy cuddle, your eyes closed, basking in his arms. You felt him press his lips to your temple.
“Well, that was lovely,” you heard him murmur.
You laughed, a twinkle of a smile. “Yes, it was.” You suddenly felt self-conscious of your current state, with your skirt bunched around your waist, a thin layer of sweat on your brow, eyeliner and mascara smudged into panda eyes, and this man’s seed and your juices running down your thighs. “I look like a mess.” You lowered your head, not wanting him to see you clearly in this state.
Sylus stirred behind you, his hand raising your head to the side so that you could see him from the corner of your eye. “No, kitten. You look beautiful,” he rumbled. “Now let’s get you cleaned up so you can rejoin the party, hm?”
He extricated himself from you, all of you, and you felt the loss of his body heat, shivering from the sudden loneliness enveloping you. Sylus gently turned you around, using the hand towels — actual towels because this venue was fancy — to wipe the big mess he made, so big the flimsy scrap of fabric you called underwear was unable to contain it all. He straightened your skirt, ensuring his hands grazed your skin as he did so, and then with a new dampened towel, tenderly wiped away where your makeup had smudged around your eyes and lips.
“There, like nothing happened.” Sylus placed his hand against your cheek, using his thumb to stroke you. “You still look lovely.”
“Thank you?” You replied in a quiet voice, not quite sure how to respond to fucking an absolute stranger — a gorgeous stranger, but a stranger nonetheless — whose face you hadn’t properly seen in the bathroom of a ballroom venue, especially one who was not only sexy, but also tenderly sweet.
Sylus kissed you, chaste enough that it was clearly a good-bye, but just racy enough that you felt another stir deep within your belly. “It was a pleasure…” he paused, an amused smirk gracing his lips, “Alice. Do tell The Hunter’s Association I say hello.” Sylus winked at you and strolled out of the bathroom.
Your eyes widened in surprise . How was it that he knew about your association with The Hunter’s Association? Or that your name wasn’t Alice?
Then it hit you like a ton of bricks crashing onto you from a great height above. The man you had just fucked… the man who oozed charisma and sex appeal… the man who turned you into a gooey mess of ecstasy… Sylus was the leader of Onychinus.
You buried your face into your hands, groaning miserably into the empty room.
You had just fucked the leader of Onychinus.
And you wanted nothing more than for the infamous crime boss of the N109 Zone to fuck you again.
Xavier's Favorite Thing To Do! [Pussy Eater!Xavier x Fem!Reader 18+]
Summary:
Xavier's favorite thing to do is eating pussies.
WC: 334 Words
Pussy Eater!Xav, is exactly as in the title says. He loves eating pussy. It's his favorite past time. In fact, some might say that he pavlov-ed himself into cumming in his own boxers everytime he eats pussy. He just finds it so fascinating - he loves it so much, almost on par with how much he loves sleeping.
Pussy Eater!Xav wouldn't settle for one round, no, he would go for however long he could, however many rounds he could. When you squirm from overstimulation, he just hooks his arms underneath your legs and keeps your legs over his shoulders, thighs on each side of his head.
Pussy Eater!Xav would start off from kissing and making hickies on the inside of your thighs; nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh and placing light and "innocent" kisses to your pussy as as his way of saying "hello" since he's a gentleman ofc. He'd advance with lightly tracing circles all around the outside of your pussy, just to get you a little wet, just as a little warmup, then he'd flatten out his tongue and as he licks up, he would tense up tongue to make it pointed to put more pressure on your clit. Sometimes he would be a bully and start licking, kissing, and sucking on your clit relentlessly just to feel you gripping his hair, whining and moaning for him. It was like a reward for Pussy Eater!Xav because he was the one making you like this. He was the one making you wet. He was the one making your pussy pulse and cum around his tongue, and not some other man. He was the one pleasuring you like this.
Pussy Eater! Xav's face could be completely drenched by 2 A.M, but it wasn't enough for him. He'd would find some way to go another round by licking you up even more under the excuse of "i'm just cleaning you up", but instead he's just trying to make you cum again.
A/N: Not proofread. Just thoughts on a Xav.
If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.
Click here to Join Linkon Lounge!
♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?
♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -
meet up with your friend
shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets
doctor’s appointment
You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.
But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.
Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.
The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.
You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.
Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list
get some dessert for Zayne
And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.
☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊
“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.
It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.
You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.
“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.
Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.
“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”
You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.
With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.
Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...
“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.
Busted!
For like a hundredth time.
You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”
He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”
You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.
You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!
In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.
Zayne's voice fades into focus.
"Is everything okay?"
“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"
"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.
You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.
You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”
It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.
When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”
Right, the heat.
You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.
Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?
You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’
Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.
You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.
Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”
He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.
Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.
He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’
You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.
“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.
Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.
Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”
You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.
“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”
The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.
He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.
He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."
You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.
His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.
"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.
Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."
Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.
Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.
"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.
The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.
Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"
He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.
Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.
Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.
Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’
You shrug ‘Just pull out.’
‘That’s not very respo – ‘
‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.
He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.
Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.
‘Yes… I need you.’
With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.
His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.
'Zaynee-' you whine.
He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.
But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.
His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.
As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.
He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.
“Zayne - I'm close”
“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.
'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'
You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.
You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.
You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.
‘I’m gonna come soon –‘
You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’
His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.
His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.
His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.
After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”
You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”
How to Give Zayne a Blowjob! [Zayne x Fem!Reader 18+]
Summary: You give Zayne the best blowjob of his life.
WC: 2.5k Tags: Mentions of Riding and Creampie, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroat, Intimate and Passionate Sex, Sensitive Zayne, Cum Swallowing, Hair pulling, Gentle Dom Zayne, Body Worship.
Contrary to popular belief, Zayne was a sensitive man ー that is, his entire body, cock included. It was an accumulation of years being in the medical field, constantly being busy and never having time to get laid or even to jack off was why he was always sensitive to your touch. You discovered that Zayne didn't last long in bed during the first time you and him made love together in missionary. The moment that he was buried into your sweet pussy to the hilt, Zayne almost came right then and there inside of you ーoverwhelmed by how good you felt around him.
It was a miracle that Zayne even lasted 7 minutes and 45 seconds, where Zayne was lost in a haze of ecstasy. Every squeeze of your tight pussy sends shocks of pleasure though his body ー feeling every ridge, every cushiony place inside of you, his cock mapping out your entire pussy, memorising it by touch and feeling alone. Zayne himself wasn't the type of man to moan, but he let out a choked gasp of pleasure when he came deep inside of you, letting out shuttered breaths right by your ear.
Ever since then, missionary was not his go-to position since he has a new one. Now, Zayne craves the sight of you on top of him. His breath would catch everytime you sink down on his hard cock, marvelling at how perfect you and your pussy was for him. Zayne found it utterly mesmerising by the way that your thighs would quiver against his hips, the subtle flex of your lower abs as you moved back and forth, lost in your pleasure. Whenever he would see the light hitting your chest, making your chest glow as you rid him, he would always have to resist the urge to sit up and give you hickies all over your chest; it was safe to say that each time, he would always lose to that temptation. That temptation, being you. Zayne's hands would roam all around your body, alternating between feather-like touches, to full on gripping onto you to ground himself to reality. Every gasp, every moan that you made was just so euphoric to him.
Though he rarely voiced it, Zayne loved it when you used him for your pleasure. He was a gentle service dom, doing whatever it takes to make you feel good. He found profound satisfaction in your pleasure, he'd get off to you grinding your pussy on him just to chase your orgasm. Zayne would always look at you with a mix of desire and pure utter adoration. He would always think about how beautiful you looked like this ー all broken and stupid you were because of him, how desperate he made you for him, how lucky he is to have you, and how he wanted to make you feel this good forever.
You wanted to give back to him this time, this time, you wanted to draw out the pleasure for him. You wanted him to savour that feeling of ecstasy. You moved Zayne on your shared bed, arranging him so that he was propped up, a pillow behind his lower back with his upper back leaning against the headboard. You had Zayne's legs spread wide open on each side of you. Zayne's pale skin was flushed with arousal, a light sheen of sweat made him glow underneath the soft light. You glanced down between his muscular thighs, your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock ー a whole 8 inch cock with a 1.6 inch diameter, slightly curved upward with a large vein running down from the tip of his cock to the bottom with a glistening tip ー Zayne's cock was always so pretty to you.
As you lowered your head down between Zayne's spread thighs, your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock, a bead of pre-cum glistened on top of his pink tip. He twitched under your gaze, seeing that sent you into a small power trip because you did this to him without even touching him. Your fingers trailed lightly along his inner thighs, you felt how his muscles quivered beneath your touch. You glanced up at Zayne though your lashes, a coy smile played on your lips. Cute. Zayne was so so cute. Zayne's ears betrayed himself as it turned a deep shade of red, his own body betraying his stoic exterior for pleasure ー the pleasure you gave him.
As much as you craved the feeling of Zayne’s cock in your mouth, you were determined to savour every moment of this experience, every moment of this experience; starting from his knees, you began a torturously slow journey upwards, your lips trailing over his inner thighs. Each kiss was a whispered promise — a reverent worship of his body. You took your time, memorising every centimetre of his skin with your mouth.
Zayne’s body had responded so beautifully to your teasing; every shudder, every twitch of a muscle beneath your lips was a victory — a map of his most sensitive spots. You could feel the tension coiling within him, his sensitivity being the cause of the downfall of his self composure. Zayne’s voice was breathless and strained; a thrill was sent through you, fueling your desire to push him further. You nipped at his inner thigh, alternating pressure and intensity, leaving a trail of small hickeys in your wake. These marks were your claim on him — reminder of this moment that would linger for days.
The sound of fabric scrunching had filled the air as Zayne’s fingers clenched and unclenched in the sheets; you ran your tongue along each line of his defined muscles, tracing the prominent veins with the tip of your tongue. The taste and scent of his skin, a heady mix of musk and a hint of bergamot from his cologne, was intoxicating.
Zayne’s usual eloquence had deserted him, reduced to gasps with his hips bucking up, wanting your mouth on his aching length. He needed you so badly, it was like an itch in his soul that only you could soothe. You glanced up at Zayne, taking in the sight of the usually composed Chief of surgery coming undone beneath your touch, how he looked absolutely ravished without you even touching his cock. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, a light sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the soft light. In that moment, Zayne had thought you were the loveliest woman he had ever seen — and the cruelest for drawing out his sweet torture.
Your hand grasped Zayne’s thick cock — you couldn’t touch your thumb and middle fingers together around its impressive girth; the velvety skin felt like fire against your palm, pulsing with his rapid heartbeat. You placed a gentle kiss on Zayne’s flushed and leaking tip, his precum coating your lips with a tantalising warmth. As you pull back slightly, a strand of his cum stretched between your lips and his sensitive cockhead. The sight of your lips connected to him in such a lewd way made your pussy throb with need. Zayne’s breath caught sharply in his throat, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control and not take you right then and there as you made a deal with him to let you pleasure him however you liked tonight. You saw the struggle play out across Zayne’s features — his brows furrowed slightly, the muscles in his neck tightened as he swallowed hard as he desperately held back a whimper that threatened to escape; his eyelids fluttered its shadows onto his flushed cheeks. Zayne looked ethereal when he was getting lost in pleasure.
You trailed kisses up and down the underside of Zayne’s cock, tracing each vein with your tongue. When you finally wrapped your lips around the lips around the tip of Zayne’s cock, he let out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back against the headboard, exposing more of his throat. Zayne’s Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth.
A quiet moan escaped you as you sank your head down, taking Zayne deeper into the wet heat of your mouth; the vibrations travelled down his shaft, drawing a miniscule shudder from Zayne that you felt more than saw. The weight of his heavy cock on your tongue, the stretch of your lips around his girth, and his scent was utterly intoxicating. You breathed steadily through your nose as you focused on relaxing your throat as his tip hit the back of your mouth — you wanted to take him even deeper — no, you needed to.
Zayne’s lips parted, releasing soft and quiet, needy breaths that sent your heart racing. Even now, Zayne fought to keep his voice down, but you could hear the strain in each exhale and feel the tension in his body. His hand found its way to the back of your head, his long fingers tangled in your hair; the grip was firm yet gentle. Zayne’s legs widened slightly, unconsciously giving you more access, his body’s eagerness betrayed his mind’s attempt to maintain control.
Your left hand gripped Zyne’s inner thigh, keeping his legs spread wide; the warmth of his skin against your palm was intoxicating, and you could feel the subtle tremors of his muscles beneath your touch. Your right hand moved to cup his balls, gently rolling and massaging them as you continued to work his cock with your mouth. The dual stimulation drew another sharp intake of air from Zayne, his hips jerking involuntarily before he settled down a bit. His fingers tightened in your hair, not quite pulling but holding on as if you were his only anchor to sanity. A bead of sweat trailed down his temple and you saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more laboured. The usually stoic doctor was coming undone from your touch, his carefully maintained composure was cracking with each passing moment. A low, inaudible groan escaped him, quickly bitten back but not before you heard it — a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
That sound that Zayne made was your motivation, you needed to hear more of it. You increased the speed of your head bobbing, making sure to relax your throat when you were taking his entire length into your mouth and down your throat, and ensuring that you sucked when you were pulling your head off of Zayne’s cock. You were careful to never pull Zayne out of your mouth too much, always keeping the tip of his cock in your mouth. It was getting messy — real messy — just how you liked it. You could feel his pre-cum hitting the back of your throat as saliva pooled in your mouth, making Zayne’s cock, balls, and thighs glisten in the dim light.
Zayne’s left eye cracked open slightly between soft groans; his touch was gentle as you gave him what you hoped was the best blow job in his entire existance. His fingers trembled slightly as he pushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ears so that he could see your gorgeous eyes. His gaze was half-lidded as he treasured how beautiful you looked in the soft lighting — hair dishevelled, face flushed, your hand playing with his balls, your teary eyes looking up at him, and your nose right up against his trimmed pubes with his cock buried deep in your throat.
The intimacy of the moment was palpable; even though this was an incredibly crude scene, what Zayne focused on instead of the pleasure that he was feeling, but you. The way you were with him, so eager for him, how you felt so much love for him that you’d take time out of your life to make him feel so good, and how you were just unequivocally you. Your heart raced as you saw that glimpse of vulnerability in Zayne’s eyes. His chest heaved with each laboured breath, and you could feel the tension in his thighs as he fought to keep his hips still.
You could sense the building tension in Zayne’s body, his breathing grew more ragged, punctuated by soft, barely audible groans and grunts that came out of his lips. You perked up even more when you saw Zayne’s abs clench — a clear indicator that he was going to cum soon, and that made you really excited as you redoubled your efforts. You hollowed your cheeks and increased the suction as you bobbed your head; your tongue traced patterns along his shaft. Your right hand, still cupping his balls, began a gentle massaging motion — adding to the onslaught of stimulation.
Zayne’s breathing became increasingly erratic, his chest heaved with each laboured breath. His hips began to twitch involuntarily; small, short thrusts that betrayed his waning control. The hand in your hair tightened its grip with a particular sense of urgency to cue you that he was going to cum soon. His cock seemed to swell even further in your mouth, pulsing with his rapid heartbeat; pre-cum flowed more freely now, coating your tongue with its salty and slightly bitter taste. Zayne’s usual composure was long gone, replaced by a man consumed by pleasure. Soft, breathy whimpers, grunts, and groans escaped him. his head was thrown back against the headboard, exposing the long line of his throat; Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard with his lips parted as he panted. Zayne’s face and ears were flushed in a beautiful shade of red.
Suddenly, Zayne’s body went rigid. A strangled grunt escaped him as his orgasm hit; his cock pulsed forcibly in your mouth, spilling his hot cum in your throat in thick spurts. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste of him as wave after wave of pleasure wracked his body. One thing you loved about Zayne’s cum was that there was a lot of it.
Zayne’s fingers tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel the tremors running through him; hear the quiet, broken grunts and whimpers that he couldn’t quite suppress. You took pleasure in the knowledge that you could only make him feel this way.
As the intensity of his orgasm began to ebb, Zayne’s grip on your hair loosened. His body relaxed, sinking into the bed as his body went limp. You slowly and gently pulled off his softening cock, placing a final, tender kiss on the tip before looking up at him.
Zayne’s eyes were half-lidded and glazed with post-orgasic bliss. A light sheen of sweat covered his flushed skin, making him glisten in the dim light; his chest rose and fell with deep, satisfied breaths. The sight of him being so thoroughly relaxed in pleasure sent a fresh wave of arousal though you that you pushed aside, prioritising Zayne’s needs first.
With gentle hands, Zayne pulled you up into his arms, readjusting both of your positions so that you laid on top of him, still in bed. His thumb brushed across your lower lip as he wiped away a bead of his cum that had escaped. Then, with infinite tenderness, Zayne leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips — a silent thank you, filled with warmth and affection.
A/N: No thoughts, just pure horniness. I just want to pamper Zayne :(( he deserves it the most. The things I'd do for this man if he was real---
If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.
Chris groaned and put his head into his hands. He stared at the the screen in front of him.
8:28
He had decided to make today an early morning so he could call it an early night, but he wasn't even able to work on what he had actually intended to do because a trainee's mistake. Although he was heated in the moment he had apologized when he had run into the frightened guy in the canteen. It was an honest mistake when laptops looked exactly the same.
He had also realized that he was heated in the moment when you had come to visit him.
His fingers itched to text you an apology but he knew this was something that he needed to apologize for in person. So he shut his laptop and tucked it into his bag and decided to head home rather than starting a new project.
It was eating at his consciousness, the way he brushed you off so easily earlier just because of stress that had nothing to do with you. He reached over the couch in his studio to flick off the light.
A soft ruffling of fabric startled him slightly and he looked down to see your black coat draped over the couch of the same color.
"Its freezing." He mumbled grabbing it and quickly heading out of the building.
I was such a dick. She was so distraught she walked home in this weather without a coat.
Chris drove over to your apartment and parked haphazardly on the street. It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and a small part of him was worried about having something happen to his car, but he couldn't focus on that when he needed to focus on fixing things with you.
He pulled out his keys and found the small silver spare to your apartment.
"Baby?" Chris called out. He slipped off his shoes and he walked from the foyer into your kitchen, his black socks slipping a little on your freshly swept floors.
"Y/N?" Chris called out, flipping the light on in the kitchen. The box of trash bags was sitting on the counter and he placed them back under the sink. "Baby?"
Something was off. Chris felt it in his bones. He tried to steady his heart. Maybe you were asleep? If it wasn't to him, you tended to turn to your bed for comfort when you were sad.
He reached for your door handle out of habit of strolling into the guys room but paused to knock.
"Love?" He called out. He knocked for another minute or two, before turning the handle softly in case you were sleeping. "Baby, I don't know if your asleep but I'm coming in okay?"
Your room was empty, and the fairy lights you always kept on were off.
He flipped on the light and he felt his heart sink to his feet.
He immediately rushed out of your room and started looking through the cabinets and drawers and nooks and crannys of every other space.
Your apartment was bare minus the essentials.
In your guest room you had boxes neatly stacked in various places.
Chris felt tears crawl at his throat.
"Baby?" He tried calling out again. "Y/N this isn't funny! Say something!" He cried out.
He fumbled to grab his phone from his pocket.
His fingers shook as he called you.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
"No," He mumbled.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
"No," Chris mumbled. "No," He said again.
He felt his heart jump through his throat and he couldn't breathe.
His hands were shaking as he dialed up another number.
"Oi, Chris you coming home soon-"
"Fe-Felix." He choked out. He couldn't even continue without hyperventilating. "Fe-Felix I-I can't breathe. I-I can't-"
"I'm coming to you alright? I have your location I'll be there okay? Okay just try and calm down okay? I'll be there soon." Chris could hear the jingling of keys and the slamming of the door and Minho's voice in the background as Felix panted running to the car. "Stay on the phone Channie-hyung okay, I'll be right there."
"I-I can't breathe." He cried out.
"It'll be okay, I'll be right there hyung." Felix slammed his fist down on his car horn and yelled a string of profanities as another car blared their horn in the distance as well.
By the time Felix had arrived at your house Chris was an absolute mess.
Felix was instantly able to tell what was wrong with Chan when he saw the boxes and Chan desperately trying to unpack them.
"Hey-hey Chris calm down." Felix said as he grabbed onto his hyung's shoulders.
"S-She's leaving me." He cried out. "Felix, she's leaving me. She can't leave me. My heart -my heart can't take it. I don't want-want her to leave m-me."
Felix didn't know what to do as he watched his best friend completely shatter in front of him.
"Hyung I'm sure she is-"
"I-I called her clingy. I told her to leave me alone. I don't want to be alone." He whimpered. "I didn't mean it Felix. I didn't m-mean it." He whimpered his voice cracking. "I-I was stressed and-and I yelled- I called her ob-obsess- Felix, she can't leave me. I don't want to be alone."
Felix pulled out his phone and dialed your number. "Hyung calm down I'm sure she's just angry at the moment, it'll blow over. It'll blow over." He repeated as if convincing himself as well. He chewed on the edge of his thumbnail as your phone rang. Chris was collapsed on his and Felix pet his hair.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
Felix looked at the broken man in front of him and swallowed.
"It'll be fine. Y/N wouldn't break up with you over something like that, right?"
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
MINHO|
"Do you really think it was necessary to yell at her?" Changbin asked as the guys were walking through the market. You had opted not to join and rather hang out with some of the girls from TWICE who were also in Paris for the same event the Kids had came for. The only problem was you had opted to do that for the entire week. You all were flying home tomorrow and Minho hadn't seen more than a glimpse of you other than a few pictures the girls had posted on their fake accounts, and the few pictures you had posted on your private account.
"Why would it not be necessary?" Minho asked.
"Because you're pissed at something that wasn't even her fault." The shorter male said and he picked up a random little trinket to look at, it was a little heavy so he used it as a makeshift dumbell for a second.
"Ya, she quite literally ruined my entire plan."
Changbin looked at Minho like he had grown a second head. "How the hell was she supposed to know you were trying to propose to her?!"
Minho pursed his lips and turned away and started walking.
Changbin moved his tiny legs to catch up with the cat eyed member.
Felix crossed paths with them and joined the conversation.
"Minho-Hyung you've been miserable all week. Just swallow your pride and apologize."
"I have nothing to apologize fo-"
"Ya! No offense Hyung but you're being a fucking idiot!" Felix said. The two Hyungs of Felix recoiled and looked at the sunshiny Aussie. "Sorry for my tone Hyung but it's true. All she wanted to do was spend time with you because she loves you. And to her it seems like you got upset because you didn't to spend time with you. And you got upset with her because you planned a super elaborate and flamboyant proposal because you love her and you weren't able to execute it. So basically, you are both pissed at each other because you love each other more than anything in this world. So tell me how that makes sense at all?"
Changbin nodded. "He's not wrong at all you're kind of an idiot."
Minho sighed and pouted.
"Which means you need to be the one to apologize because Y/N-ie actually has reason to be mad."
Minho's pout became even more noticeable.
Ugh...apologizing.
Felix seemed to read his elder's mind.
"Its either apologize or ruin your relationship. While it is super easy to replan a propsal, it sure as hell won't be able to replan your future if she walks out on you."
Minho felt that hit his heart hard, but still wanted to be stubborn. "What do you mean easy to replan a proposal? I spent months planning the one I intended to do."
Changbin rolled his eyes. "Ya! Y/N might be your girlfriend but you seem to forget she was all of our friend first. And I sure as hell know she would not care how you proposed to her. Even if you just did it the traditional and plain way of getting down on one knee and saying 'Y/N...will you marry me?" Changbin said mimicking Minho's voice.
Felix shook his head. "No it'd be more like 'Y/N marry me. You have no choice."
"No- 'Y/N, my cats need a mom. You are now their mom.'"
"'Y/N, our wedding is next Friday. Don't be late. Wear white." The happy boy mimicked with a deadpan face.
Changbin and Felix's antics were the thing that made Minho laugh all week. And the levity he felt now was what he felt with you always. And that made the absence of you hit him even harder.
"Can we go back to the hotel? I want- no I need to apologize." He said suddenly.
Changbin sputtered. "Never thought I'd hear that come out of your mouth ever."
Minho playfully shoved Changbin into Felix as they headed back in the direction of the hotel.
"So how do you think you'll propos-"
"Minho-ssi!" The guys stopped and they noticed Chaeyoung running towards them.
Minho felt his heart dip for a second. "What is it?"
"I-I went to get Y/N-ie for a girls night out but she wasn't in her room so I figured maybe she just stepped out to the convenience store with Tzuyu or Momo but she wasn't with them when they came back and Tzuyu said the last time she saw her was this morning after we had brunch." Chaeyoung tried to steady her voice. "And I called her but my calls aren't going throu-"
Minho didn't give Chaeyoung time to finish before he started running.
He didn't know where he was going, he didn't even really know where to find you.
All he knew is that he had to.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
CHANGBIN|
"Y/N." Changbin said. "Jagiya!" You ignored Changbin as you walked into your apartment.
He followed ensuite and was pouting. "Jagiya please talk to me. It's been three weeks."
"Mmmm. Nah. I don't feel like being clingy today." You said as you set your purse down and headed towards your bedroom.
"C'mon please? It was a stupid argument. I'm sorry. I was just upset."
"Hmm. And I'm upset right now too." You said as you started digging through your closest. You pulled out a cute yet sleek dress.
The same dress you had worn on your first date with Changbin oh so long ago.
"Babe?" Changbin asked as he saw you rummage through things on your vanity.
"Red or Pink?" You asked allowed. "Or I guess the question is should I do a matte red or a glossy red?" You turned to Changbin and gave an innocent look at him. "I don't know which one makes me look better."
"Stop that! Thats not funny. At all." Changbin said as he followed you into the bathroom. He stayed planted in the same spot even as you changed, shutting his eyes respectfully until you finished changing.
"Where are you going? Why are you getting dressed up."
You pulled your hair out of the braided updo you had it in and let it fall over your shoulders in a beautiful mix of loose curls and evem looser waves.
Changbin couldn't help but admire just how beautiful you looked right now. Matter of fact you always looked beautiful, but Changbin couldn't help but stare. Since this was the longest he had seen you in the past three weeks.
And seeing you get ready and dolled up worried him. It sparked a jealousy in him that he found himself all too familiar with these past few weeks. It was partly the reason he had snapped at you in the first place.
He had thought it was just a stupid argument but right now it seemed like it was so much more than that.
And it was slowly killing him. Had he really hurt you that bad?
"Jagiya where are you going?"
You ignored Changbin as you touched up your makeup slightly, wiping off the clear gloss you had and favoring a glossy red lip instead. You grabbed your favorite perfume - and Changbin's favorite on you - and sprayed it delicately over yourself.
You looked at your watch and looked up at Changbin. "I have to go I'm meeting someone at five."
You grabbed your purse and Changbin grabbed your wrist.
"W-What do you mean you're meeting someone?" You snatched your wrist away from him gently and made your way towards your car.
"W-Wait Y/N it's not a date is it? You're not going on a date? Wait please tell me you aren't."
"Changbin I have to go. It would be a bad first impression if I was late."
"Can you please at least tell me where you are going?"
You huffed. "I'm going to that one coffee shop next to the karaoke bar? The one we always used to go to when you had first asked me out." You said as you were strapping on a pair of heels.
Changbin felt like his world was collapsing.
"No. We aren't breaking up you're not allowed to do that."
You looked at Changbin with a confused - what the fuck are you on - type look.
"Changbin you realize people have the free will to do whatever they want right? Thats like me telling you you're not allowed to go to the gym anymore."
"You're not breaking up with me Y/N." He said his voice starting to waver. "You can't."
"Yup, Bin." You said as you opened the door and walked to your car. "Lock the door behind you, would ya?" You called out over your shoulder.
The muscular man quickly locked your door and came to the drivers side.
"Y/N," He said tapping on your window.
"Changbin can you make this quick? Like I said being late is a bad first impression."
"Who cares about first impressions! Y/N you can't date someone else!" He cries. "It was an argument! Are you really breaking up with me over this-"
"Damn Changbin I'm no-" Your phones started to ring and you answered it.
Changbin pouted at you as you spoke. Trying his best to listen to the conversation.
"Hello..." Why'd she say hello like that? So nicely... "Yes, I'm on my way right now just leaving my house..." She's already on the stage of letting him know her whereabouts? "Haha no no of course not...yeah....haha!" What could he possibly be saying to make her laugh that much? Only I can make her laugh like that...well I guess Jisung too but mainly me! "Uh I'll just get an iced vanilla latte with all my modifications- just ask Jiwon she'll know...." They have mutuals? "Yeah I'll be there soon....Yep! Can't wait to meet you either...mkay bye!"
Changbin felt his heart constrict as he watched you hang up and start your car.
You gave Changbin a small wave and pulled off, your tires screeching a little as you drove.
He quickly went to follow you. You wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't let you. Because you meant the world to him.
And without his world he would be nothing.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
HYUNJIN|
It had been a few days since Hyunjin had felt like he had spent time with you.
Because while you had been in his presence physically he felt like you had something on your mind.
You weren't all up on him like you usually were. And he missed that. He also missed you asking him if he liked your outfits. He missed the little twirl you would do asking if you looked okay; he missed being able to look at you lovingly while you did so; he missed being able to wait a little bit before he could comment how striking you looked; that little pause in time just to assure that he would be the one who could see you in that specific outfit longer than anyone else you would run into or hang out with, even if it was mere seconds more.
The way every part of you took up every aspect of his life was something he was so used to that he longed for it when he couldn't have it.
And for the past eleven days he longed for it.
So bad.
He missed you.
"Do you think I did something wrong?" Hyunjin asked Jisung as they sat down enjoying a cup of coffee together.
"I'm assuming so because she's treating me just fine. We actually just went to the movies the other day. Some random guy tried to hit on her and she made a comment about his hairline and how it showed his age and that shut him down real quick. It was actually fucking hilarious the way-"
"Did she say anything about me upsetting her?" Hyunjin asked, interuppting Jisung's tangent about his trip with the most loved girl of the band.
"Mm...now that I think about it, she made a comment about some other idol. I forget who she was talking about but I remembered her saying you were talking to them because she was just standing there waiting for you to finish and thats why she decided to drink that one drink. Because she didn't want to...how did she put it...look pathetic? Yeah, I think thats what she said. And she said it was no use because she looked pathetic throwing up all over Bangchan." He took a sip of his coffee. "I actually thought it was funny because Chan was saying he was trying to find an excuse to not have to wear that one suit jacket anymore because it was-"
"Jisung you're getting off topic." Hyunjin sighed. "Did she seem upset when she said that?"
Jisung shook his head. "I wouldn't say she seemed upset when she was talking about finding a use for her hands. I think she looked...off afterwards though. Especially whenever your name came up in ocnversation." He looked at Hyunjin pointedly. "But that wasn't that often. She may be your girlfriend but she is my soulmate so we have our own issues to discuss." He said taking another sip of his coffee. "Like all the drama in Hybe right now. Did you see- wait I'm getting off topic."
Hyunjin frowned. "So it was something I did..." He mumbled.
Jisung sniffed once. "Yeah probably." He said scratching his ear. "I can ask her if you'd like me to."
"No I thinks it okay, I'll find time to talk to her."
"Well they say there is no better time than the present because look who just walked in." The chubby cheeked boy nodded his head somewhere behind Hyunjin.
He turned around and saw you walking in with Felix. You walked up to the counter but didn't notice Hyunjin or Jisung sitting there.
Felix greeted the barista and ordered himself a drink while you looked at the menu.
Hyunjin felt the tiniest - the most miniscule pang of jealousy but it was quickly washed away because he knew that you only had eyes for him. You guys hadn't celebrated your first anniversary yet - it was in four days -but he knew just how much you loved him and he loved you.
And just that - he knew how in love you were with each other.
And thats why it hurt him so much to think he had hurt you.
Felix finished ordering and turned to you. Hyunjin had expected you to tell him your order and for Felix to relay it back to the barista but instead you spoke in Korean - hesitantly - but still with an immense amount of effort and obvious intermediate skill.
Felix corrected you on a couple of words, but after a few motivational words from the barista - words you obviously understood - you shined a bright smile and laughed.
"Y/N doesn't speak Korean." Hyunjin turned to Jisung, and the small quokka like boy pouted slightly. "Jisung."
"I walked in on Y/N-ie and Felix-" He blurted out. "God, I've been keeping that secret so long." He let out a breath and looked at Hyunjin's shocked face.
"Walked...in...?"
Jisung put a hand to his forehead. "Sorry I didn't finish my thought. I meant that I like...walked in on them while he was giving her secret korean lessons." He said wiggling his eyebrows.
"Jisung you're not helping my paranoia."
"I was wiggling my eyebrows because of the reason. She said she wanted to learn Korean so when it came time to meet your family she would be able to communicate well with them. It seems like she's actually pretty damn good at it too. Shes a fast learner according to Felix."
Hyunjin groaned. "She's so fucking cute but of all people in our groups she decided to get lessons from Lix? Did she never watch the survival show." He chuckled.
"Yeah...I guess that means I can tell you the actual reason she's upset with you now right?" Jisung said.
Hyunjin's head shot up and he looked at the younger boy expectantly.
"She overheard you calling her clingy. With the idol and his girlfriend..." He looked down and his voice dropped a little. "Its been eating at her a lot. Especially the girl's comment about foreigners and stuff. She was a total bitch for saying that because now it's been making her rethink everything. Because she seems to be convinced that it would be best for your reputation and your future if she ended things with you."
Hyunjin felt his throat constrict slightly. "S-she didn't mean that. She doesn't mean that. She can't."
Jisung hmmed in acknowledgment. "Hyung...she has it rough you know? The pedestal people in our industry put you on - and even in other industries and other countries -is the pedestal you're put on by the same people she consistently is surrounded by when accompanying you. The same people who write all those hateful comments about her on your posts and send even more hateful comments to her private account."
Hyunjin's eyes widened, and his fingers twitched slightly. "What comments? She hasn't told me about any...hate...comments..."
Jisung sighed. "She doesn't want to worry you. And I think she believes those comments too...she can't think of anything else to believe."
Hyunjin felt a knot place itself in his throat to stay as he walked you watch out the coffee shop with Felix trailing you. The thought of your insecurities bothered him immensely. The thought of you thinking you weren't worthy of him when it was the complete opposite; when it was him who wasn't worthy of you. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.
And he wished you believed him when he said all the things said.
Believe me when I call you beautiful. When I say I love you...
When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line
Warnings: Cursing
Pt2, Pt3
Maknaeline
(X)
BANGCHAN |
You walked into Chan’s studio, quietly shutting the door behind you, as to not startle him.
“Hey Chris, can we talk for a second?”
You watched as your boyfriend of a year and a half continued to type away, not acknowledging your question.
“Chris? Did you hear me?”
“Yes I heard you. I just didn't answer."
"Well, it would be nice for a little acknowledgment, I asked if we could talk." You state politely. You understood that Chan was stressed, but you believed it was basic courtesy to at least acknowledge someone - let alone your significant other - when they asked you a question.
"Well, I'm kind of busy at the moment."
"I understand it will only take two minutes ba-"
“Dammit Y/N! I'm busy right now can't you see?" He snaps. Turning towards you and showing you the screen of his laptop.
You open your mouth to speak and tell him just why you needed to talk to him at this very second but he interrupted you.
"When we first started dating, I get that you told me you were clingy. I also get that I told you I liked clingy. But my god, Y/N you're not just clingy you're fucking obsessive. And always at the wrong times! You want space when I actually have time. Yet you decide to stroll in here trying to start a damn conversation when you can clearly see I'm trying to play damage control from a fucking dumbass trainee thinking it was funny to mess with my tracks. I'm already stressed as fuck about that, yet I have you breathing down my neck like some obsessive stalker. Like for five minutes just leave me alone!"
You stiffened at Chan’s tone. It was very rare that Chan would ever raise his voice. He managed his frustrations very well and was aware of how sensitive you were so he was always careful about confrontation.
He turned around and had his back hunched over his laptop as he typed and clicked away furiously, unaware of the tears that were quickly springing to your eyes. You were frozen in place, your heart beating uncontrollably.
It took a minute before you were even able to take a breath.
You stood there long enough for Felix to come bursting through the door to come update Chan about something unimportant to the task at hand. The same task that he had snapped at you for interrupting.
And you think that what hurt most. The way the frown on his face was lessened when talking to the younger male and his cute chuckle even popped out once or twice.
You finally were able to pull yourself out of the studio, leaving behind the coat you had absentmindedly placed down out of habit when you had come in and opted to take your purse.
The air was brisk and had that dry smell it always gained before it snowed.
Your apartment was close to the studio, a 25-minute walk at most so you always opted to take a stroll when visiting Chan, but you were on a tight schedule so within a minute you were in a taxi heading home.
And just as quickly you were back in a taxi heading to the airport.
You knew it was petty of you to mute Chris's notifications. But the fact that he snapped at you was just the tip of the iceberg. You knew that once he calmed down, he would immediately be filled with guilt. And you would rather not have your phone being blown up by multiple people at once.
Are you headed to the airport?
You responded to your brother's message with a thumbs up and turned on your DND before the screen darkened with a click.
You glanced at your watch and sighed.
You'd be on a plane heading home in less than an hour and weren't even able to kiss Chris goodbye.
"You're clingy as hell." Minho mumbled under his breath, thinking you wouldn't hear. But oh did you hear.
"Lee Minho what did you just say?"
He let out a sharp breath and looked up from his phone. "I called you clingy." He stated boldly, his voice even yet loud enough to be heard by Hyunjin and Han who quickly scurried away to the other half of the suite.
"And what about me is so clingy?"
Minho chuckled sarcastically. "Oh I don't Y/N, do you want me to recap the entire day for you?"
You had joined the kids on their trip to Paris. While they had been here numerous times, this was your first time traveling here and due to the anxiety of being in a new place, you attached yourself to Minho's hip since it was your first day here.
You didn't intend to be overbearing, nor did you intend to be up his ass for the entire week and a half long trip, but you wanted to get used to the surroundings and you felt most comfortable doing that with your boyfriend. Yesterday being your first day you spent the entirety of it with Minho. You had noticed quickly how his excitement had turned into unease and straight up irritation after a while. It was a weird phase of emotions considering how happy he had been but you had amounted it to you accidentally taking a wrong turn and missing a fireworks show Minho had been talking about all day. You had come into his room early this morning to apologize, but instead were meant by an overly irritable boyfriend.
"It's because I've never been here before! Did you expect me to not to ask you to show me around?"
"Y/N there is a difference between a tour guide and a fucking babysitter. You pulled me along to everywhere you wanted to go. I had plans yesterday! Certain things that I was hoping to do. I made an entire schedule and everything, but just because you wouldn't agree to be toured around the city by Chan you ruined all of that. Then you spent the entire day just pulling me along. If you wanted someone to give you an overly extensive run down of everything and keep you company, why don't you ask someone closer to your personality like Jisung or Jeongin? I'm sure they'd love talking of the ears of all the local with you. Shit, you'd probably become some street show you three."
You sucked in your cheeks and took a breath.
"That was uncalled for, you have no need to bring anyone else into this discussion."
Minho chuckled sarcastically.
"Discussion? What is there to discuss? The amount of time I want you to leave me alone? Hell, why not the entire fucking trip?" He spat out.
"You're an ass Minho."
"Yeah well at least I'm not a pain in someone else's."
You felt your bottom lip start to tremble and your chin shake.
Don't cry. You'll just be a crybaby.
"And here come the water works." He groans as if he read your mind, getting up from his bed and heading towards the room where the rest of the guys were probably trying to keep occupied as to not hear your arguing.
"So what? You're just gonna walk away?" You call out.
"YOU'RE PROVING MY FUCKING POINT!" He shouted, finally at his breaking point. "It was a mistake asking you to come on this trip." He said turning around one final time and opening the door to the other side of the suite. "I never should have asked."
"Well you know what, maybe this trip isn't the only thing you should have never asked about. And I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not the only thing I never should have said yes to." You spit out turning on your heel and slamming the door.
You furiously wiped at the tears that were sticking to your face and threw your hood up over your head as you headed to your room to contemplate what would become of you two now.
It was irritating to you the way Changbin was interacting with the female barista. And the irritation must have shown on your face because when he handed you your iced latte, he raised an eyebrow.
"Is everything okay jagiya?"
You sighed as you guys stepped out the shop and started making your way back towards the studio. Changbin had been really busy the last couple of weeks with preparing for a special release and collabing with a few other groups, so you hadn't been able to be around your boyfriend as often as you'd like. So you had agreed on meeting during his lunch every other day, even if the times varied.
"You just seemed really flirty with that barista." You mumbled. "It was obvious she was into you too. I mean who wouldn't you're the Seo Changbin." You giggled elbowing him playfully. You pulled out your phone to make sure there was enough time for you to walk Changbin back or if you would have to take an Uber. You nodded at the time and swiped away a few notifications from Minho.
You expected Changbin to laugh or reassure you like he usually did when you brought up his flirty habits. Instead he snorted into his cup as he took a sip of the dark liquid.
"Jealous much?"
You laughed a little. "Why would I be jealous? She isn't the one who has been dating you for three years." You said hip bumping him, but he stepped away from you rather brashly.
"Well it seems like you are because you have to bring up me and my so called flirting ever single time I talk to anyone of the female species."
"Bin it was just a joke-"
"Well I'm not joking when I say you're acting clingy as fuck." His tone was way off and he seemed to realize the shit he was setting himself up to be put in because he stopped mid stride and turned around to you with an agitated sigh.
"Do you...I don't know want to run that by me again?" You ask, firming your stance.
"God, Y/N, don't make this a big thing. Its just been a day-"
"No, no. You don't get to use that excuse Changbin. We're supposed to talk through these things. You don't just get to say something like that and then act like you didn't."
You guys stood at an impasse for a moment until he spoke up rolling his eyes.
"Fine. I think you're being clingy." He said simple. "Jealousy falls under clinginess and I think you're being jealous so therefore you are being clingy."
"Changbin it was a fucking joke! You've never reacted this way before so I don't know why you're acting this way now!"
Changbin just rolled his eyes and continued in the direction of the studio.
"Seo Changbin, where are you going?"
"To work Y/N. You know, maybe if you actually picked up a more stable job then you wouldn't have as much time to be up my ass and exaggerating about things that aren't things you should be butt hurt about."
You stiffened at Changbin's low blow and took a breath.
"We need to fix this before it gets out of hand." You grit out.
"Well maybe I don't want to fix this." He looked at his watch. "I'm late now so why don't you just drink your latte and go home to cool off."
The condescending voice Changbin was using sent you over the edge. You were angry to the point of tears.
You chucked your nearly full iced latte at him. It hit his chest with a thud, and the coffee made a rather pretty pattern on his pristine white shirt.
"Maybe that'll help you cool yourself off. Fuck you Changbin." You pushed past him and waved down the closest taxi.
Your phone was buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out.
"Hey, are you and Changbin on your way back? I need to go over some choreography and we're filming tiktoks right when he gets back."
You did the best you could to keep your voice level when responding to Minho.
"He's on his way back now. But you need to get him a new shirt because being the dumbass he is he likes to make a mess of perfectly good things."
You were never very happy having to attend events with Hyunjin. It wasn't that you didn't like spending time with him, or in turn spending time with the guys events.
It was just you felt insecure being the plus one of someone like Hyunjin.
It was no secret to anyone how those who knew and perceived Hwang Hyunjin's existence thought of him.
He had a beauty that rivaled any masterpiece that had ever been painted. The elegance of a tiger lily with the face of an angel.
You knew of many people who would jump at the opportunity to be with Hyunjin. For the past 11 months you had been with him you had your fair share of run ins with crazy fans or pop stars of the like.
Once your relationship had gone public a month ago you found yourself being compared to the female idols in the industry even more than you has expected.
It seemed to be the general consensus that not many people viewed you as "beautiful enough" to be with someone like Hyunjin.
You didn't take it to heart because you decided to have the outlook of nobody being beautiful enough for Hyunjin - let alone the people writing those hateful comments considering they were most likely delusional pre-teens who made the most out of pocket edits and were in desperate need of some grass groping.
But after a month it was starting to get to you slightly. Especially as you had come across one of those edits, since you had been tagged in it after someone found your personal account.
The amount of hate messages were starting to get to change your perception on things. Because the more you were hearing it the more you were seeing and believeing it.
"Jinnie do you think that my shoulders look weird in this dress?" You walked into your living room where Hyunjin was sitting. He looked up and a bright smile showed on his face.
"I think you look beautiful jagiya!" He said standing up. He looked other worldly in his tuxedo.
"And my hair?"
"Perfect." He said placing a kiss on your forehead. "We have to leave now if we want to make it on time. Or else I would look at you all night."
By the time you had been at the event for thirty minutes you already wanted to go home. You felt like the ugliest person there, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of many people on you.
Ever couple of minutes you found yourself looking for Hyunjin's reassurance.
"Does my stomach look bloated?"
"Is my makeup fine?"
"Can you see the pimple on my chin?"
"Are my nails okay?"
"Do I look ugly?"
"Should I make my hair look like hers next time?
Hyunjin was reassuring you, but after the third or fourth questioning of the night his answers became generic.
When he was talking to an idol and his significant other you couldn't help but start comparing yourself to her. She was so pretty.
"Hyunjin should I run home and change?" You asked quietly in English. You were doing your best to learn Korean so it would be easier to communicate with Hyunjin's parents when the time came that your families were to get closer. You wanted it to be a surprise when the time came, because you knew how much Hyunjin wanted you to get along with his family, when when the time came to meet them - he wanted to get along with your family.
"You're girlfriend is pretty clingy isn't she?" The other idol asked in his native language, assuming you didn't speak korean because of your fluency in english.
"Yeah she is extremely clingy." Hyunjin replied. "Might be the clingiest girl I've ever met."
You looked at the other idols girlfriend and she made a face, and then laughed.
"You can tell she is a foreigner by the way she acts. No one is ever as clingy as foreign partners." She joked and all three of them were laughing.
Well there is the hundredth insecurity to list.
You looked at them and tried to control your facial expressions.
"We were just telling him that you are so adorable." The girl told you.
You chuckled uncomfortably and looked over at Hyunjin. He smiled and blinked cutely at you.
You smiled back as Hyunjin turned towards the couple again to continue his conversation.
And all you could do was smile back as you pretended to not understand the words Hyunjin didn’t even realize hurt you.
genre/warnings: smut, pwp, big dick!sylus, size training, size kink, dear god sylus and his fat cock, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, dacryphilia, it’s just sylus brain rot ❤️
w/c: 2K
a/n: I’m on Love & Deepspace fic tumblr! 😮 hope I’ll be welcomed nicely here haha. As a peace offering, this is my present to everyone (and especially the Sylus girlies)!
You shift your body slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable, on top of taking slow breaths, your heart fluttering at Sylus's soft voice coaxing you.
"That's it. Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. But you don't see the way he's shutting his eyes and biting his inner cheek every time you squeeze around him. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good.
You whine softly against his bare chest, his heat radiating off you, his slender fingers stroking your hair slowly, and his other hand drawing soothing circles on your thighs.
You don’t remember how it started, but your thoughts start to drift, recalling the times your mind would float whenever Sylus had his lips on yours with you straddling on his thick thighs. He would devour you, painfully slowly because he knows that’s what riles you up, and he definitely enjoys listening to your whimpers, your non-verbal pleas for him to do more to you. He’d make sure your lips are wet and messy once he’s done with you, his touches teasing and light against your skin. Sylus secretly wants you to beg for it, because he knows that he’d give in to you in a heartbeat. His fingers would cup yours that were on his chest, and the look he would give you reset all the butterflies in your stomach. You would feel his thick erection, hidden under the thin silk black bathrobe he’d always wear against your clothed pussy, and dear god, he’s so fucking big. But before you could ask, Sylus would trail his fingers to tease your wet clit and pussy, soaking in your adorable reactions he swears is enough to get him off, erasing the question of wanting him to fuck you off your brain when the pleasure from his fingers tingles through your body.
Sylus doesn’t pride himself as a generous being, but he thinks he’s always generous enough for you. He realises he enjoys having his face in between your legs, making you squirm, listening to you sob when he overstimulates you with his tongue, making sure his tongue presses and grazes fully on your clit while he listens to you fall apart, his crimson eyes locked onto you while he holds you down to take whatever he’s giving you.
He’s good at distracting you like that whenever you want to bring up the question of fucking.
This time though? Through your wet lashes from the overstimulation and hazy thoughts, all you were craving for was just to be fucked stupid by Sylus. Your hand reached out and pushed against his head. Sylus pulled back slightly, confused for a moment.
“What is it, sweetie?” He paused, his hands trailing up and down your thighs.
Your mind slowly clears, but your pussy is still pulsing from him tongue fucking you.
“Need you to fuck me, Sylus. Please. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”
Sylus is momentarily taken aback by your demand, but he realises he can’t keep holding it off, mostly because there’s only so much longer he’s able to hold back, especially when you’re begging for him like that.
“I don’t think-“
“I can take it”, you muttered stubbornly, yanking your partner towards you. You shift yourself above him, straddling his thighs, just shy of his appendage.
As much as your determination is endearing, Sylus knows your comfort should come first. And he knows very well that his cock isn’t gonna fit into you in one go, so he decides to let you gauge it for yourself—putting your hands into the string of his robe, gesturing you to loosen it.
And you do, your gaze flickering from his cool expression to his silk robe sliding off his body when you untie the string.
You swallow hard when his cock comes into view—thick, long and heavy, the tip red with a wet sheen of precum. Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna fit in you in one go. You and him solely being just wet enough wasn’t going to cut it.
Nonetheless, you’re still determined. Your eyes meet his gaze and an idea pops into his head.
He intertwines his fingers with yours.
“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fit into you slowly. Doesn’t matter how much you can take, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re doing so.”
“But-“
He presses his lips on the back of your hand.
“I’ll be fine. You trust me, right?”
You nod, watching the way his eyes soften before you.
So there you are, lying on your side, facing Sylus, your cunt trying to adjust to his cock as he stretches you open. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been size training with your partner. It started off with getting his cockhead in, and that was already making you hitch your breath. Then inch by inch he sinks into you from then. He’d let you cock warm him like that and it never failed to leave you so full one session after the next.
It’d been seven days, and you barely pushed through three-quarters of his girth. Initially, Sylus still could tease you while you tried to take his cock, but as he sunk deeper into you after each session, it started getting harder for him to maintain his composure—every twitch, every squeeze—had him digging his fingers into his palm, clenching against his silk pillow and breathing a little harder.
He huffs once more when he feels you clench around his cock.
“If you’re gonna keep clenching around me like that, Kitten, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”
You glance up, watching the way Sylus’s platinum hair becoming a tousled mess against the pillow. His crimson eyes cast to meet yours, his lips pulled into a slight frown.
“I can’t help it”, you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
You hear Sylus hiss slightly once more when he twitches inside you.
“Do you think you could fit another inch in?” It almost comes off as a beg.
You inhale shakily, shifting yourself further downwards, taking another inch of his cock. The both of you gasp at the sensation.
You freeze at the thickness. How far down are you already?
“You’re almost all the way in, Kitten”, Sylus whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. It’s dangling over him like his favourite prey.
His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure on top of pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.
Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Sylus’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his body soap that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Sylus inches his cock into you, the more he’s pressing onto your g-spot, and the more it’s starting to make you see stars whenever you blink. You’re growing so sensitive that you’re feeling every throb Sylus’s cock is giving you.
Your hand is on his arm, trying to ground yourself from the slight soreness. Another strained whimper when Sylus pushes him deeper into your pussy. Slick leaks from your pussy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylus.
Another kiss to your temple, another circle drawing session on your thigh.
“Do you want me to go all the way in?”
Your toes curl.
“I can take it.”
So Sylus inches his cock right to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.
Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, but oh god you do feel so good.
“How are you feeling, sweetie?”
You hiccup softly. “So full.”
He chuckles. “Such a good girl.” The vibrations of his light laughter only press his tip further onto your g-spot, and it’s making your thighs shake from the impending orgasm.
“D-don’t move so much, Sylus. You’re gonna make me—“ you try to bury your head into his chest but he stops you with his fingers in your chin.
“Make you what?”
He intentionally shifts, and his cockhead hits your sensitive spots again, sending fireworks into your eyelids, and a strained moan. Sylus seems to enjoy your reactions, because then he flips you to your back, his large frame looming over you, forcing you to look up at him with your legs folded, and still with his cock in you.
Oh no.
Sylus looks down at you with the faintest glint of softness in his eyes before it completely disappears, now just hunger seeping through the red.
“Sylus!-“ you gasp, his fullness penetrating into you again, this time easily, considering the wet and sopping mess you’ve made around his cock.
He only hums in reply, then pulling out slightly before he pushes into you again. He’s found your sweet spots, and he’s not letting it go that easily.
The knot in your stomach pulls tight, and it’s making you tear up in sheer pleasure. You’re barely able to meet Sylus’s eyes, not when he’s fucking into you and has your head thrown back while you’re fighting to keep your eyelids open.
It builds and builds. Sylus probably realises it from how much you’re just pulsing on his cock. His thumb rests at the corner of your lips and you let him slip in, your glazed out eyes meeting his. It makes his heart flutter when you’re completely undone like this for him, but he’ll never admit it, at least, not yet.
“Gonna cum. Fuck, it’s so much, Sylus-“ you whimper before your mind completely melts away.
“Release all you want on me, sweetie. That’s my good girl.”
That’s enough to send you over the edge—your orgasm hitting you like waves, tingling through your body like electricity, the pleasure eating you up over and over again. Sylus watches affectionately while you fall apart on his cock—the way you’re writhing and squirming, the way his name leaves your lips after every moan, the way your pussy creams so much on his cock. He thinks he’s doomed because he never gonna get enough.
“Looks like a little kitten made a mess”, Sylus teases. He watches the way cream pools at the base of his cock when he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back into you again. His eyes flutter shut at the tight warmth eating him up, groans replacing his words.
“Now, can I make a mess in you?”
Your watery eyes meet his, and he’s equally about to lose all composure. You cup his cheeks, taking him by surprise, before giving him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, and then you nod. Said corner of his lips lift in satisfaction at your approval.
He’s just ready to ruin you.
His strokes become more heavy, the overstimulation shutting your brain off. Nothing but pleasure is surging through your nerves now. You’re even holding up your legs so Sylus can fuck you deeper.
“Now be a good girl and take all of it”, he mutters huskily, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his eyes snapped shut and his eyebrows furrowed.
Despite the fact that you don’t get to see the way Sylus’s face contorts in pleasure when his orgasm hits him, his groans right in your ears serve you satisfied for now while thick white spurts into your abused pussy, filling you up all the way, some seeping past your plugged hole.
You don’t realise how much you’ve clawed down Sylus’s back while he was emptying himself into you.
Well, he doesn’t need to know anyway.
Sylus stays above you for a moment, the both of you catching your breaths. He still has the energy to plant more bites on your neck while you stroke his hair.
He pulls back to look at your face properly, and all you can think of is how fucking good he looks post-fuck—messy, sweaty, and so fucking delicious-looking. His fingers brush away your strands of hair, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip.
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | xav's version
━ ✧.˖ A/N: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.
next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.
He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.
Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.
God, you drove him utterly insane.
Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.
“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.
Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.
He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.
Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.
The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.
You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.
“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.
He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.
“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.
This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.
“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.
Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes
He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”
His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.
“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.
Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.
His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.
You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.
Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.
You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.
You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.
“Z-Zayne, wait I —”
He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”
You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.
You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”
Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.
His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.
“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”
Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.
“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”
His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”
You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”
The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.
“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.
His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”
You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.
He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.
“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.
“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.
“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”
Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.
“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,
His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.
At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.
“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.
“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.
You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.
You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.
You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.
Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”
His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.
“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”
You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.
Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.
The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.
“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.
Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.
“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.
Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.
So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.
Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.
You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.
Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.
“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.
“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”
A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.
It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”
Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.
“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.
Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.
“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.
You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.
It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.
His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.
Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.
Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.
Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”
You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”
Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.
“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.
“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”
His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”
The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.
Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn
A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.
You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.
And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.
But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no.
“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.” Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne.
Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.
But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”
Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”
“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you.
“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder.
“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”
“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”
You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.
“Yes?”
“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.
“I am aware of it, yes.”
“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.”
Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”
“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.
“There appears to be a problem.”
“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.
“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.”
It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”
There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.
“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself.
“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”
A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you.
“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”
With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence.
And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.
The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session.
“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy.
“Yes.”
“Preference for the doggystyle position still?”
Your face burns. “Yes.”
“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”
You nod your head.
“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy.
“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.
“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go.
“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”
You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office.
Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit.
The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air.
His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”
“The sensors are-”
“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”
His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks.
Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic.
Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”
“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.
The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words.
“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”
Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled.
“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.
“Good girl. Take a breath.”
You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”
“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it.
“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur.
Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.
“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body.
With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion.
“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting.
“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”
He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.
“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading.
So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.
“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”
“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal.
“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”
You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”
“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”
“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”
Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected.
“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”
“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat.
“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.
“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”
One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?”
Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin.
“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”
Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out.
“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.
“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him.
“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment.
“I just had to be sure.”
Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.
You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat.
Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again.
“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.”
The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision.
Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well.
The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity.
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.
“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom.
“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation.
He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream.
Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips.
“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”
Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke.
“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”
The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm.
A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups.
Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.
“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation.
“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly.
“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body.
“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff.
“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.
“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes.
“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss.
“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies.
“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.”
support banner by @/ cafekitsune
@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan
when sylus, the strongest warrior of the grasslands, chooses you as his mate, you're forced to consummate your union in front of the entire clan.
━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little plot, porn with feelings
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.4k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, public sex, voyeurism, outdoor sex, people watching you have sex, missionary, cumming inside, medieval bedding ceremony vibes, NOT continuation off grassland romance (though inspired by it), NOT based off any real world clan, completely made up clan & traditions, implied virgin mc, implied first time sex, use of y/n, dom!sylus, dirty talking sylus, talks of marriage, mating, and some political play.
━ ✧.˖ A/N: hello! short fic since i was so heavily inspired by the new sylus memory. this is NOT a continuation of ‘grassland romance’ though it is heavily inspired by the overall theme of the memory. i began furiously writing this when they released the trailer oof i was so hooked. inspired by @/yuchanpaws_ quote tweet linked above!
please note that the clan and traditions mentioned in this fic are completely fictional. however the tradition is based loosely off of the “bedding ceremony” that medieval europe used to partake in!
i will NOT be writing fics for the new xavier or raf memories! i may write for zayne but that is up in the air. i only wrote for this one because i was super inspired by the memory and the fan discourse about it on twitter and tumblr <3
this was actually so fun to write. i might find myself writing more bite sized fics like this, that inspire me rather than feel like me forcing myself to finish them :’) unfortunately that probably means less xavier and raf from now on and only zayne & sylus…
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”
You can hardly hear Sylus through the deafening chants and cheers of the people around you. Never in a million years did you think you’d be caught in this situation. The Mating Rite.
Actually, it was customary for the most esteemed members of your clan to partake in the Mating Rite, those of the Elder Tribunal, the high ranking commanders of the various military societies, really any of the most respected members of the community had to participate in the Rite. To prove their bond with their chosen to the rest of the clan, committing themselves not only to each other, but to the clan.
But you didn’t fall into any of those criteria. While you were under the strict and often suffocating protection of the clan’s most skilled warriors, for reasons they’d refused to share with you, you weren’t someone of the necessary stature needed to be required to partake in the Rite.
But Sylus was.
The youngest warrior to be sworn into the clan’s most elite and ruthless military society. The youngest to be considered for a commanding position in the militia, a position he turned down many times. He was the most formidable and respected gladiator of your entire clan, and even that of the opposing clans of the Grasslands.
There wasn’t a soul in all the Grasslands that didn’t know his name. You either envied him, feared him, or wanted to share a bed with him. Maybe all of the above.
You knew the day would come when Sylus would have to choose a suitable partner, and the thought of it inexplicably sent painful pangs down your very soul. The fear of losing him, when you didn’t even have him, was so utterly heartbreaking, you didn’t know how you’d bear it when the time came.
And yet…Sylus wanted you. He chose you.
You’d never forget the way he sought you out after returning from a mission he told you little of, under the massive acacia you’d often lain under, with the silver haired man in question holding you dearly. How you’d flown into his arms upon seeing his distinct form approaching you, his strong hands gripping your waist as he spun you around, whispering into your ear about how he’d missed you in his time away.
Or when he threw you over his shoulder, his fingers gripping the underside of your rear, a clear mission in his mind as he traversed the Grasslands to the Elder Tribunal’s square.
“I need to show them I already have a lover.”
The Elder Tribunal had been pushing Sylus’s hand for years now, wanting to see their most esteemed warrior mated, securing his future progeny to that of the clan. He’d been able to hold them off for as long as possible, his responsibility as a warrior and as your key protector keeping him far too busy to find a suitable mate.
You weren’t exactly sure what changed, what exactly had caused Sylus’s hand to be forced. What had caused him to finally give in, choosing a partner to share the rest of his life with.
In any case, you found yourself under Sylus’s very naked body, his thick erection nestled firmly inside your quivering walls. He was naked from the waist down, but still wore the traditional garb of the warrior ensemble’s chest harness, the bone embellishments rattling against the coarse leather. There were countless eyes around you, watching the way Sylus slid in and out of you, his eyes never leaving yours.
Sylus did his best to use his much larger body to shield yours from the hungry stares surrounding you, wanting to take away even the tiniest bit of your obvious discomfort. You were entirely naked, as was required of women partaking in the Rite, bare and vulnerable before the many spectators. And while the thought of showing off your magnificent naked body off to others excited Sylus, as he knew that it was a sight others could behold but never have like he could, he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible.
The warm air breezed against your naked body, only a canvas ceiling protecting you from the elements. It was a tent of sorts, without any walls, to give the crowd the best view of the Mating Rite. Of you and Sylus.
Even though the air is warm, the, almost muggy, Grassland breeze against your bare skin makes you shiver.
“I’m sorry,” he grits, his jaw slack as you sucked him in so tightly, trying to focus on comforting you and not the way you nearly choked the orgasm out of him, “I’m sorry. I never wanted our first time…to be like this.”
His words make your mind sober up, your eyes focusing on his and not those around you. He used his thick thumb to rub the tears out of the corner of your eyes.
“It’s’okay Sylus,” you gasp, the pain of his thick cock making it difficult to speak, “I-I’m’okay.”
Sylus grimaces, hearing the choke of discomfort in your soft voice. The way your cunt felt around him was so completely and wholly blissful, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel.
“Just focus on me, alright my dove?” he murmurs, his voice gruff with desire. As he continues to rock into you, unbearably gently and loving, he leans down until his lips are a mere inch from yours.
“Let me take the pain away, hm?”
He presses his lips to yours, inhaling your gasp as he kisses you for the first time. You’d daydreamed about the way his lips would feel on yours, when you watched him train with his fellow warriors, when you’d wash fresh fruit in the brook by the clearing, when he’d watch over you, protecting you from a danger that everyone refused to tell you the truth of.
But your silly little daydreams paled in comparison to the real thing. Nothing could have prepared you for how warm and commanding his lips would be when they took yours. How his tongue, gentle yet insistent as they traced the opening of your mouth, would slip into your mouth, exploring you like he owned you.
You never could have imagined the way he’d literally take your breath away, kissing you like he’d been waiting just as long to taste you, to have you.
It’s so wonderfully dizzying that you don’t even notice the pain of his member inside you ebbing into a burning pleasure. You don’t notice the way people holler when Sylus kisses you, the way they cheer at the scene unfolding before them.
You squeak, a mix of a moan and a squeal when Sylus pushes so deeply into you that you briefly see warm white stars clouding your vision. Sylus groans, ripping his lips from yours to breathe out a throaty moan of pained pleasure.
“Not so tight,” he all but seethes at you. You wince at his harsh tone, doing your best to relax your squirming muscles and obey his words. Sylus instantly softens at your reaction, his hand coming up to caress your cheek.
“You’re so tight down here, sweetheart,” he grits, fingers coming down to press on your bare tummy, “It’s making it difficult for me to…control myself.”
“I-Is that…” you whimper, confused by the way he’s making your body burn with an unfamiliar pleasure, “Ngh – bad?”
Sylus chuckles, despite the tortured plea that shines in his carmine eyes, “Bad? Far from it…You feel unbelievable.”
Your heart clenches at his praises, cheeks heating at the sounds his body makes against yours. Flushed at the way people are watching Sylus claim every inch of you, your virtue.
He continues, stroking your cheek gently, pleadingly, “But it would be embarrassing if you made me…end the Rite so quickly. In front of all these people.”
The implications of his words dawn on you and your eyes widen in a mix of surprise and disbelief. He doesn’t stop his movements even as he explains himself to you, your nails digging into his thick biceps that cage you, blocking your modesty from the spectators.
“I have an image to uphold, after all,” he smirks only half-joking, a well deserved arrogant confidence playing behind his beautiful features, “Only you would make it so difficult for me, little bird.”
“M’not trying to Sy –” you choke out, looking down and trying to focus on the way his impossible girth splits you open, and not the jeering of the crowd. You’re briefly hypnotized by the shiny ring of something filthy that encircles his base, the way his abdomen clenches with every movement he makes.
You’re snapped out of your trance at the distinct and familiar voices, some distance behind your head. You’re acutely reminded of just how exposed you are, your thighs trying to clench shut on instinct. But Sylus’s body holds them open, his fingers gripping your chin to bring your face back to his.
“Don’t worry about them.”
“I-I just –” you whine, not even knowing what you want to say, unable to stop your eyes from darting around. You squirm when you make eye contact with the hungry eyes around you, recoiling into yourself.
“I can tell you exactly what each and every one of them are thinking,” Sylus purrs into your ear as he leans down to press his weight deliciously onto you, which only earns more hooping and hollering from the crowd, “They’re thinking about what it would be like…to be in my place.”
Sylus smirks when you shiver at his lewd words, his filthy whisperings making you inexplicably and embarrassingly excited. His voice is impossibly heated, a dangerous ferality behind them, “Thinking about what it would be like to be the one inside of you right now.”
You whine at his words, hitting his shoulder weakly, “Sylus d-don’t say that. I only want to think about you.”
Sylus groans, a beautifully deep and erotic moan of satisfaction, “Damn right. You are mine.”
He continues on, so lost in the feeling of your tight wet walls that he begins to ramble uncharacteristically, “I’m sorry, my love. I will make it up to you.”
Before you can even ask for what, Sylus is driving right back into your deepest parts, making your toes curl as you squeal unabashedly, not even registering how people cheer at the way you he fucks you.
He whispers, not paying any mind to the way people applaud the way Sylus makes your body keen, encouraging him to take you harder, “After this, little bird, I’ll show you just how good I can make you feel. Just you and me. I promise.”
As inexperienced as you were, you knew the way Sylus fucked you was otherwordly. His thrusts, both dominating and tender, his hands gentle as they squeeze your breasts, his lips as they caress yours. The way he so quickly blurred the pain to a blinding pleasure, you knew Sylus knew exactly how to use his body.
Beyond that, you knew Sylus was well acquainted with the female body. The way he fucked you was unreal, quite literally making magic with your joined bodies. The pain had faded away, replaced with an ecstasy that nearly blocked everything else out.
Nearly.
As the whooping gets louder, Sylus only fucks you harder, trying to distract you from the crowd around you, “It’s just you and me, sweeheart.”
Despite Sylus’s comforting words, he himself was still profoundly aware of the eyes on your joined bodies. But it only served to excite him, make him harder. The way all eyes were on you, the beautiful woman he’d chosen for himself, his mate. Something they could stare at but never indulge in. It drove him insane.
You nod, losing yourself as Sylus’s rhythmic pounding makes your nerves burn with pleasure, in a way that makes you confused and alarmed. You felt lightheaded, the pressure in your stomach overwhelming. It felt like you were losing control of your body, like you might have an accident all over him.
“Sy-Sylus, I think something’s – nghn – happening!” you wail, “I think maybe we should – ahngh – stop.”
Sylus groans, acutely aware, even if you aren’t, that you’re nearing your very first orgasm. You squeeze him so tightly that he can’t help but meet you at the peak of that blinding pleasure.
“Let it happen, Y/N,” he soothes, trying to mask the fact that he’s about to lose his own mind from how perfectly you’re clamping down on his cock, “You’re close aren’t you?”
Your eyes widen at the realization of what this sensation is, having heard stories from the other women in the clan, almost scared of how explosive you know it’s going to be. Your fingers furiously grapple at the thick ropes of muscles on his back, scratching deep red welts into him.
“Cum for me in front of all these people, my dove,” he coos, almost condescendingly, “Let’s show them exactly who you belong to now, hm?”
His words drip with absolute filth and it only makes the tension grow tauter, almost like a balloon being stretched to its limits before it pops. You don’t even notice when Sylus’s large hands find the area where your bodies meet.
Your eyes, screwed shut at the new sensations of mind and bodily bliss, fly open when he touches your most sensitive parts, rubbing furiously at the crest of your lips. The feeling is so overwhelming your back arches off the thick mat of straw and blankets that you rest on, chasing the sharp pleasure that his fingers bring onto your intimate regions.
“So responsive,” Sylus murmurs gruffly, “Just like that, my heart. Let yourself feel it, hm? For me.”
You’re honestly at a loss at how Sylus can speak to you coherently right now, if he feels even a fraction of the ecstasy he’s bestowing upon your body.
As your eyes roll back, your mouth parted in a symphony of the most beautiful moans and whimpers, Sylus feels himself being pushed to release. The sharp claps of applause are muted as his ears ring with the overwhelming pressure of how badly his cock wants to release inside you.
For the first time, Sylus stutters, “I-I need to cum inside you. I’m sorry, my love.”
The Mating Rite required the participating parties to unify in the most intimate ways possible, and that included the sharing of essences. And the idea of that…as new as you were to the pleasures of skinship, drove you to madness.
The thought of him filling you so deeply with him, all of him. You couldn’t explain it but you wanted it more than anything you’d ever wished for.
You can’t stop yourself from begging pathetically, “I-I want it. I want you Sy. Please.”
Your voice is practically drowned out by the intensifying cheers of the crowd, but Sylus hears your pleas loud and clear. In fact it’s the only thing he can hear, his brain drowning out anything that wasn’t you.
“Do you?” Sylus smirks, trying to maintain control despite how royally fucked your words rendered him, “So filthy for such an innocent little bird.”
“Then you’d better take it all, my love.”
With frenzied fingers, Sylus sends you careening down the unfamiliar ledge of orgasmic bliss. His thrusts grow increasingly frantic, your cunt convulsing so violently that Sylus nearly wants to black out. You were so unbearably tight that his climax was forced out of him, the warm splash of milky hot seed coating every centimeter of your perfect little hole.
As he spews into you, he feverishly takes your lips into his, desperate to taste you as his body gave you every ounce of himself. His tongue furiously finds yours, a fierce gnashing of teeth, flesh, and raw unadulterated passion. Your entire body vibrates as he moans into you, his body rocking both of you through a transcendent euphoria that will undoubtedly change your life forever.
Neither of you can even hear the screams or the toast of applause that erupts all around you, clan members quite literally celebrating at the union of their most prized warrior.
Sylus doesn’t still, biting the inside of his mouth as he ruts himself into a painful overstimulation. Yet, he can’t get enough of you, not wanting to pull out and be without your warmth, without you.
“The rite has been completed!”
As your body begins to come down from its dizzying heights, your senses start to return, your consciousness becoming vaguely aware of people crowding closer.
One of the clan elders saunters over, wanting to congratulate Sylus, parade him around like a prize the clan had secured for themselves. Sylus’s body blocks his as he approaches, his head snapping back forcefully when he feels an unwanted presence encroaching on your space, intruding on his brief moment of bliss with you.
“Sy?” you murmur wearily, your body drained of every last drop of energy, replacing your body with a heavy contentment that weighed you down.
Sylus doesn’t respond, snapping something at the clan elder, and the other important clan members that had begun to slowly approach. Though you couldn’t hear what he said, you can make out his snarky and forceful tone, a tone you’d never heard him take, especially not with you. It was filled with an authority that would normally never be taken with those of the Elder Tribunal.
But of course, he was Sylus.
Just like that, everyone is clearing out of the small meadow in which the Rite had taken place, heading back to the central square of the Grassland. The serenity left behind blankets you and Sylus, as he returns his attention back to you.
His manhood is still snug inside you, thick and throbbing again despite the copious amounts of slick dripping from where he still plugs you. Your legs are lazily clung to his sides, his thick body slotted between your shaking thighs.
“Hey…” he murmurs, brushing your sweaty hair out of your face.
Your eyes flutter open, twinkling when they catch the way Sylus drinks you in. His lips are quirked in a smirk, a classic display of Sylus-esque arrogance, but his crimson eyes are so tender, the sharp lines of his face softened.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your clammy forehead, wrapping his arms behind your back and cradling you in his arms. He hoists you onto his lap, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, his erection still nestled into your sore walls.
“For what?” you whisper, resting your head on his chest, trying to control the shivers that rack your body involuntarily.
“For doing this. For me.”
You glance up at him, unsure of what to say. You hardly felt like you did him a favor, between the indescribable pleasure he’d just given you and the feelings for him you’d buried deep down.
“You don’t need to thank me,” you whisper, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever, even though the two of you finally had some privacy.
Sylus doesn’t speak, holding you dearly as he gazes off into the flat plains of the Grassland, a few large acacia trees littered in the open fields.
“It was…incredible,” you admit, “You’re incredible.”
Sylus looks down at you, the usual cockiness and arrogance faded, letting you really see into the soft and warm soul of the Grassland’s most revered warrior.
He bends down to kiss you, his lips impossibly soft and patient as opposed to the violent way he’d kissed you earlier. Every touch is a caress, every second precious and fleeting.
Sylus bites back his groan as he feels himself stirring back to life inside you. He tries to focus instead on how it feels to hold you, to have you.
He fully intended to make good on his earlier promise, showing you just how thoroughly he could love you. But for now, he just wanted to feel your lips on his, your skin against his. The way he’d always wanted. The way he’d always intended.
A warm gust of wind sweeps through the meadow, making the foliage dance lazily. For over two decades, you’d lived between these very same blades of grass. Yet as you kissed Sylus, the Grassland had never felt quite so alive.
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
• it wasn’t any surprise to him that you used it so suddenly,he was already noticing how your breathing was becoming inconsistent and how your body was trembling involuntarily
• he likes to push you to your limits,not necessarily for his amusement but because he likes to push you to your mental limits,he knows you’re much stronger than you think you are
• of course he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a little aroused from seeing you in such a weakened state but most importantly he loves you and wouldn’t want to ever hurt you,you’re like his toy after all so why would he want his toy to be damaged
• as soon as your safe word escaped your lips “vanilla” he stopped the vibrator that was on your clit but his cock was still inside of you,he didnt move anymore and stayed still staring at you,analyzing your facial expression’s and seeing you in such a state,he was admiring his work
• “oh? don’t tell me this kitten just lost another life” he raised his eyebrows but seeing you didn’t immediately make a sassy remark he knew you were completely done
• he slowly took his cock out of you and began cleaning you up with some towels nearby,he picked you up bridal style and took you to the shower so you he could give you a proper bath “poor kitten I’ve practically killed all your nine lives just now all at once didn’t I?” He looked at you pitifully but he couldn’t help but feel some type of satisfaction
Sylus was always a bit clingy. Even before you two officially started dating he had always been more than enthusiastic to have you by his side. But now that you were official, his need to have you by his side was constant.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
You were sitting at your desk finishing some work when your phone buzzed. Checking the caller ID you saw that it was none other than your boyfriend, Sylus.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep right now? It’s too early for you to be getting into trouble.” You teased.
“You always seem to think I’m up to no good kitten. Have you ever thought that I might be calling because I miss you?” He taunts back.
“Still, you’re usually in bed by now. Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be missing me?” You say while putting away some folders.
“I could say the same about you. I thought we agreed on fixing your sleep schedule, no more work or coffee after 8 pm. And if I’m guessing I’d have to say you’ve broken both those rules by now. ”
You eye the empty mug on your desk then hop up out of your seat to look out the window.
“Have you been sending Mephisto to spy on me again? And don’t turn this around on me, we were talking about you!”
Sylus chuckles, “Don’t worry sweetie, I haven’t been spying much, I just know you too well.”
You roll your eyes silently. “Anyway back to what I was saying, why are you awake?”
Silence fills the room for a moment before Sylus quietly mumbles, “I can’t sleep… without you.”
You softened at his words, but quickly regained composure as you knew where this was heading. “Sy, you know I cant-“
“Please come over kitten, I miss you.” He pleaded into the phone.
“I have work tomorrow! I can’t miss it and you know that.” You scolded.
“Come on sweetie, just tonight? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” You could practically see the smirk he had on his face.
While the thought of having Sylus hold and caress you in all sorts of place excited you, you had a special mission tomorrow and Captain Jenna would surely have your head if you called off work again.
“I’m sorry Sy, you know I’d love to but this mission is really important and-“
“How much?”
Confused you questioned, “What?”
“How much kitten? I’ll pay anything to get over here and by my side tonight.” He was on the edge now. “We don’t have to do anything, all I want is to hold you close next to me and I’ll pay any amount of money to make that happen.”
“You know I’m not some thing you can rent whenever you please right? I have my own schedule too!” You reproached, slightly offended at his offer to “buy” your time.
He sighed, “I’m sorry Sweetie, I only meant that I’d do absolutely anything to hold you in my arms for a few hours.”
Feeling guilty for your small outburst you apologized, “Of course, I’m sorry. But I just can’t make it tonight Sy…”
“Not even if I won you all those plushies you wanted from the claw machine?”
“Not even if you won me all those plushies” you laughed
Another defeated sigh could be heard through the other side. “Alright alright. Could you at least grant me the pleasure of staying on the phone until I fall asleep though?”
In which MC reorganizes their house over time and Sylus, because of an offhand comment from the twins, thinks she's nesting.
Sylus x fem!MC fluff
Pregnancy thoughts and talk.
-0-
It started with the little things.
Tiny potted plants sat prettily on his shelves, the many side and coffee tables in the manor, their little pops of green and brightly colored petals brightening what once was a corner of shadow.
It wasn't like Sylus didn't keep plants in the house, no. It was just he didn't pay them any mind besides making sure the staff was taking care of them.
So it really came as a surprise when he suddenly found himself watching you and the twins hauling boxes into the house, chattering about plant growth and such as you took out several lamps.
"Kitten," he said from his position by the doorway, strong arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the frame. "With that much light, you're going to start to photosynthesize."
You turned, smiled at him as you tilted your head up to nuzzle into his chin when he strode towards you. You held up two different types of lamps for him to see. "They're lamps."
"I can see that."
You chuckled, leaned against him when he reached over to fiddle with the lamp in your hand. "I didn't know if I needed sun lamps or grow lamps for the plants so I got a lot of both."
"Mm." Sound logic enough, he thought. He patted her head. "Let's set them up, then."
And so they did.
(Even though both of you did bicker about adding a grow lamp - not the sun lamp - in his office for that tiny desk succulents you graciously added to his massive workspace.)
(He conceded, of course.)
But it didn't stop there. Not that he expected it to stop, knowing you.
It was a rough day. A negotiation that Sylus needed to get done didn't pull through as the moron representing the offending faction decided to get flustered and pulled out a gun at him, voiding the deal and thus resulting in a gun fight.
The situation was dealt with easily enough, but the cleanup needed his attention particularly because they had several protocores that he was aiming to acquire and wasn't going to leave without them. Alas, as they refused to make it easier for everyone involved, they had to waste not just his time but his ammo as well as his perfectly cut suit.
Sylus landed on the couch with a groan, relief finally flooding his bones as the tension in his body started to dissipate. He wasn't bleeding any longer, but the aches remained, a dull thrum consistently buzzing so much that it prevented him to experience the relief of sleep.
While the fog enveloped the N109 Zone to obscure it from the wrath of the sun, the instinctual yearn for daylight annoyed him. The mere ghostly memory of the sun on his skin made him purse his lips, the mere thought of it sapping his already drifting energy.
He turned his head, buried it into the pillow-
He blinked, propped himself on his good arm as he stared at the pillows. Gone were the hard blocks of stone that posed for a pillow that he just never bothered to replace, seeing as he was in pain often enough that the uncomfortableness of them barely registered to him anymore. What sat under and beside his head were soft, the slight fur on the covers lightly tickling his cheek as it cradled his head, rapidly easing his throbbing headache.
Long fingers flexed, his brows furrowing when softness once again surrounded his senses.
There was a thick blanket beneath him, separating his battered body from the worn and cold leather of the couch.
Now, Sylus is a perceptive man. Being observant of his surroundings and having the ability to react accordingly is part of his job description, his lifestyle. One misstep, a single moment of carelessness, and he could end up dead.
He was sure these pillows and blanket were not here before he left the house no less than eleven hours earlier.
"Sylus."
He turned, alert eyes softening at the sight of you, drinking up the image of you in one of his long-sleeved button-ups that hung over your significantly smaller frame, your hair mussed in multiple directions.
A lazy, crooked smile adorned your face as you hummed his name, your eyes still drooped with sleep. The adorable crow plushie was cradled lovingly in your arms.
You took your time to cross the room, loved the way he settled back onto the couch as he watched you, those wonderful scarlet eyes not once leaving you. You accepted his outstretched hand, your laugh softly lilting in the air when he pulled you into his embrace.
"Hi," you purred, your body molding perfectly into his.
"Good morning." There was a tenderness in the room, blanketing the both of you as you cuddled on the couch. You cherished moments like this. It's not so often that Sylus would get home when you wake, and while you know that your beloved wasn't all too fond of the mornings, you also know that the man made sure to make time for little moments like this despite his busy schedule.
"You changed the pillows," he muttered, his deep voice rumbling as he nuzzled into your hair.
"Did I?" You kissed his exposed clavicle, trying to hide your smile.
"You did."
"Maybe the twins did it."
He snorted, his fingers digging into your hips before massaging it as his other hand fiddled with the leather that held your knife strapped to your thigh. "They would've have bought a vibrating couch before they get to the pillows."
You laughed. "That's true."
A beat of silence. Just two lovers laying on a couch, sharing whispers and secret laughter as the sun rose far beyond the N109 Zone.
It was peace.
Oh, if only that peace lasted.
It's been a few weeks since that little moment on the couch, and Sylus couldn't fathom how they went from there to where you were at this moment.
He sat on a stool on the kitchen, watching you clean what seemed like the eighth room in the manor and you didn't have any indication of stopping soon.
None of them knew why you were in such a frenzy to clean, but you knew it was important do it Right Now. He offered to help you, of course, after having a quick round with him arguing that you should just leave all the cleaning to the staff, seeing as that's one of the primary reasons why he hired them in the first place.
"Sweetie," he said, exasperation leaking into his usual smooth voice. "If you keep at it any longer, I'm gonna have to clean you up from the floor."
You scoffed, hissed when he tried to grab the mop from you. "You better sit your ass down before I dismantle all of your guns again."
"Oh?" His voice, sickly sweet, as he trailed the tip of his fingers up your neck, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Will you, now?"
Your eyes glinted, lips curling into a menacing smile as you passed the mop to your other hand, completely dodging his attempt to take it from you as you pressed your body sensually to his. Deft fingers from your now free hand lightly tapping playfully against his chest. You crooned. "You know I will."
A stare down. Something not too uncommon between the two of you. A pair of strong, stubborn people unwilling to yield.
Most of the time.
"Alright," he conceded. Sylus knew, even without peering into your desires, that you will not budge on this matter. So he sat, admitting full well that this isn't an issue that's worth having an argument over.
It only took one look from him to shut the twins' guffaw from the other side of the door. He could ignore the snickering, however.
"This is like the third time she cleaned this room," Kieran whispered to his brother.
"Fourth," supplied Luke as he enjoyed the way their boss was sulking at the counter. He didn't look like he was sulking, Luke knew that full well, but he just had that feeling. "You were too busy buying detergent when she cleaned this last Monday."
"Ah."
"Hm."
"Maybe she's nesting or whatever."
Luke hummed, shrugged. "Maybe."
Sylus was a man of composure. Not even the most lethal of situations are able to get a rise out of him, and even if it did, no one would be able to tell from his perfected poker face.
That was the only reason why he didn't fall out of his stool.
Could you be pregnant? But you two have been so careful, so sure that the both of you have done the necessary things to have safe sex. But it wasn't impossible, he knew. It was also possible for non-pregnant women to exhibit nesting behavior. Surely, you'd tell him immediately if something was amiss or... if you were experiencing some symptoms.
Children, huh? He didn't think he'd be a great father. If anything, he'd be a horrible one considering the simple fact that he brought danger with him anywhere he went.
He was hard lines and violence, bloodshed and death. The sins that he's committed - and will commit - was unfit for a father. A good father.
But... he supposed it would be nice to have children running across the house. His and your kids. A physical manifestation of your love.
It's not that he needed to have a mini version of himself. As far as he knew, he never had any inclination of even desiring to have them. That avenue of conversation hasn't opened up between you too, either. He didn't know if you even wanted to have children.
Children with him.
And he wouldn't mind it if you didn't want them. They were a commitment, not just some playthings to be discarded once the novelty wore off. It would take a lifetime.
Yet... It's a nice thought.
"Darling?" It was well into the night. You and Sylus were already snuggled up in bed but you knew something was off. Ever since your little event in the kitchen, Sylus has been drifting, sometimes zoning out into space. It was very uncharacteristic of him.
So you waited. He'd tell you eventually.
Yet you have to admit to yourself that you can be impatient.
Those eyes of his, momentarily dazed, focused on you. The room was dark, the steady thrum of the air conditioner droning in the background. And still you felt his eyes on you, focusing, focusing, his arms pulling you in closer to his body.
"Yes?"
"What's wrong?"
Of course you'd see it. Not that Sylus even attempted to hide it, seeing as you'd peer through him eventually. You waited for him to speak, frowned when you felt the spiking of his evol. "Sy?"
"Are you pregnant?"
You sputtered, pushed up from your position on the bed. Your hand quickly tapping the button for the lights.
Warmth illuminated the room as you stared into his eyes. You thought he was joking, thought he was pulling your leg, but the emotion that stormed his eyes moved you, surprised you.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Sy." There was distress in his voice, something that you thought you'd never hear. "My period finished a few days ago."
He closed his eyes as he let that information sink in, nodded. Released a breath. "Okay."
"Sylus." You nudged him, urged him to open his eyes. "Sweetheart, what brought this on?"
Sylus sighed, feeling as though the energy was tapped from him. Well, there was no reason to beat around the bush on this. "Kieran mentioned you might be nesting."
For all the time you've spent with Sylus, you knew that man rarely blushed. But the pink that dusted his cheeks and ears endeared you, the heartbeat that you loved listening to spiking.
"I'm sure, Sy."
"Right."
He didn't know if it was relief he felt as he held you, fingers kneading into the dip between your hips. He sighed. Gave you the smile that was only reserved for you.
"Why did you change the pillows?"
You tilted your head, smiled back, leaned down to kiss his nose. So it came back to the pillows.
"I wanted you to be comfortable whenever you collapse on the couch."
"The plants?"
"This place is stuffy without them."
"And the cleaning?"
"I don't like the way the staff cleaned our house."
He stared at you, those gorgeous garnet eyes of his looking at you with a mix of adoration and complete and utter confusion. He blew a breath.
"I was overthinking, then."
"You think so much all the time, I'm surprised it's taken you this long to short circuit."
"I didn't short circuit."
"You don't have access to seeing your expressions, darling."
You laughed when he pinched your sides before your hands slip up and cupped his face. "I love you, you know that?"
"I know." His voice dropped down an octave as he trailed open mouthed kisses from your shoulder to your neck. "I guess that's why you're making me insane."
You snorted. "You never needed my help with that, dumbass."
He nipped your neck, nuzzled. "I love you, too."
"Mm." But you took his hand, pressed it to your stomach, stared deep into his eyes. "Do you want to have children with me, Sy?"
Your eyes were impossibly deep that he couldn't look away. Couldn't even think of attempting it.
"Yes."
Straightforward as ever, Sylus is. You blew a breath.
Swung your legs over him and straddled him in one swift move.
"Maybe we can start trying now, then?"
-0-
this has been running in my brain for days and i just had to write it asfsdg
━ .ᐟ✧ GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, mentions of alcohol, recreational drinking (characters and mc), jealousy (guys + mc), drunk characters (guys + mc), use of Y/N, pet names, unprotected sex, never pulling out, fluff/crack/banter, individual content warnings below with their respective fics
━ ✧.˖ LINKS: original inspo | ao3
A/N: SURPRISE ITS HERE EARLY! oof another fic for all four guys? who is she? but actually after this i likely won’t be writing for all four guys like this again, or at least for a while. if i can somehow get better at writing fics that are 1-2k then ill start doing scenarios with all four again! i tried to keep this one short and they’re still all 3-4.3k per guy…this scenario was originally based off the one video of the drunk asian guy! see the clip above under ‘links.’
enjoy guys!! i’ll be taking a much needed break but may write slowly in my own time :) just depends how i feel, how much inspiration i have! i’ll still be on tumblr but will mostly be on my twitter <3 until next time bbs!
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 4.3k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, sylus refers to reader genitalia as ‘she,’ public sex, sex in an alley, standing/against the wall sex, finger sucking, choking, outdoor sex, voyeurism, needy sylus, drunk sylus, jealous sylus, use of pet names, mentions of guns, tiny bit of violence, cumming in coochie, panties over cummies
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: original inspo | video (how sylus kisses you in this)
Luke and Kieran watch the way Sylus’s eyes track you under the strobing lights of the nightclub. It wasn’t out of the norm for their dear boss to be obsessed with knowing a certain Hunter’s whereabouts. But this was excessive, even for him.
The way he’d already shattered two glasses with the force of his fingers, his eyes scarily unblinking as they trailed your every movement. The club manager didn’t dare kick Sylus out, apologizing to him as he’d cleaned up the glass from Sylus’s feet. But Sylus was too distracted to even notice.
The pair of troublemakers supposed it had to do with the fact that some sleezy drunk had his hands all over your bare thighs. They knew if Sylus had his way, that very man would be unconscious on the floor in half a second flat. But of course, when it came to you, Sylus was helpless as he was whipped, giving into your every desire, even if it physically pained him to do so.
And you had ordered Sylus not to intervene, not when you were undercover, trying to get classified information from the powerful men that frequented this very nightclub in the N109 zone. So he was left at the bar, quite literally fending thirsty women off left and right, watching the way you pretended to laugh amongst the unsuspecting targets. He tried to distract himself from the men who so clearly were thinking of ten different ways to fuck you.
A privilege reserved only for him.
So the twins, who had so enthusiastically begged to tag along, devised a plan to help Sylus take his mind off planning literal murder.
Really, they were trying to help!
But maybe they should’ve stopped after the fifth drink. When Sylus’s cheeks flushed the same shade of red as his eyes, ebbing all the way up to the tips of his ears.
And they definitely should’ve stopped after the tenth drink. When Sylus’s body started to move on its own accord, his Evol practically parting the crowd of drunk and sweaty clubbers to get to you.
But at that point there was no stopping the formidable man from taking what he wanted. And what he wanted, what he needed, was you.
Honestly, you nearly breathe a sigh of relief when you feel Sylus’s familiar Evol wrapping around your wrist, yanking you backward and away from the disgusting man trying to feel you up. You’re so happy to feel his strong arms around you that you don’t notice how atypically clumsy his Evol feels, like grasping for something when blindfolded.
“We’re leaving.”
Sylus’s words are dominating and commanding, ‘no’ not even a fathomable possibility. But there’s a slight waver in his gruff voice that makes you raise your eyebrow at him in question.
The idiotic man before you wraps his clammy hands around your waist, pulling you back, “Hey man. We’re in the middle of something.”
You look up to see Sylus’s crimson eyes, trained on the way the man’s fingers dig into your bare skin, burning with something dangerous, the air around him crackling with an erratic and sinister energy, and you know you have to defuse the situation as quickly as you can.
You bring your elbow to the man’s groin, digging hard. He groans pathetically, wilting to his knees. Truthfully, you didn’t have to elbow him that hard, but you’d become nauseated with how disgustingly he’d been looking at you, touching you, for the past thirty minutes.
“No, we’re really not.”
With that, you slip into Sylus’s side, his large arm wrapping possessively around your naked shoulders, your hand resting on his abdomen. Sylus’s lips quirk up, deeply satisfied with the way you can bring men twice your size to their knees before they can even blink. His girl.
As the two of you make your way out of the crowd, you start to notice the way Sylus’s movements are unusually sluggish, his feet trudging one after the other. Considering Sylus was always poised and elegant, you instantly knew something was amiss. When Luke and Kieran fall into step behind you, you turn to the two masked men.
“What happened?!” you hissed at them, “What happened to ‘Watch Sylus? Easy peasy lemon squeezy?!’” Your fingers are raised in air-quotes as you recall their confident words and uncontrollable giggles when you’d tasked them with keeping Sylus in line, knowing he’d have a hard time watching you faux flirt with other men, no matter how self assured he was.
Kieran is the first to speak, clearing his throat as the four of you exit the nightclub, the night air ruffling through your hair, “Well, you see –”
But he’s cut off when Sylus roughly grabs your chin, pulling your eyes up to his.
“Hey. Look at me.”
Your eyes flicker to his, surprised by his demanding, yet needy, words. Sylus smiles when you look up at him, his eyes, as unfocused as they were, beaming down at you.
His rough fingers caress your cheek, burying his face into your hair, inhaling your intoxicating scent, “Beautiful.”
The scent of alcohol on his breath is so strong you nearly wince. Luke and Kieran seem to notice your realization at the same time, their eyes widening as you start to yell in disbelief.
“Is he drunk?!” you demand, your arms wrapping tighter around his waist, Sylus in a world of his own as he mutters incoherent mumblings into your hair, shifting his weight onto you.
The twins grin at you sheepishly, raising their hands in surrender. Luke speaks, “Well, in our defense, boss never gets drunk –”
“Yeah! Boss is such a heavyweight –”
“So we thought, a few drinks might loosen him up –”
“You should’ve seen him! He was thiiiiiis close to commiting a crime –”
“So really, you should be thanking us!”
The twins finish rattling off, looking at you with puppy eyes.
You sigh, unable to feign anger at them, “How many drinks did you give him?”
“Umm…what was it Kieran…like…eight?” Your eyes widen as they scratch their chins.
“No…no, it was definitely closer to…like twelve?”
“Well we also gave him those cute little drinks with the umbrellas, he seemed to really like those!”
“Yeah and they had little chunks of fruit in them! Maybe that cancels out the alcohol?”
“Yeah! And the one with the olives too! Plus, boss always drinks like a bottle of wine a night!
“So we thought…a few mixed drinks…couldn’t hurt anyone!”
Your head spins as you try to keep up with their conversation, digging through your purse to find the unopened half bottle of water you’d brought. You quickly unscrew it, bringing it up to Sylus’s lips.
Sylus looks surprised when the cool plastic touches his lips, but once his hazy eyes focus on you again, he visibly relaxes. The sharp vermillion hues in his irises melt at the reflection of you, softening into the most beautiful carmine pools of red wine.
His hands come over to cup yours, holding your fingers affectionately in his as you tilt the water back so he can drink. You have to tip toe upward so you can follow his grip, his gulps greedy and eyelids shut in relief, the sensation of your hand cupping his jaw feeling like his own personal heaven.
With the plastic at his moistened lips, his eyes flutter open to look at you, his lids heavy with intoxication. Even though his eyes swim with a murky tiredness, they glow when they watch you, glimmering with a star-struck adoration. His intensity stares you down, a knowing heat piercing right through you. The very same heat that has seen both your naked body and soul.
The moment feels hot and strangely intimate. It definitely felt illegal to have Sylus looking at you like that while Luke and Kieran stood behind you.
He’s so distracted by you, eyes never leaving yours, that nearly a third of the water splashes onto his chest and the pavement floor. He drinks so enthusiastically that you almost want to giggle at how submissive he looks, drinking so obediently from your hands, eyes following your every move. Fortunately the pair of whispers behind you remind you that, even if Sylus stares at you like he’s ready to mount you right then and there, you are not alone.
When the bottle drains, he crumples it in one hand, tossing it to the nearest waste bin.
As it hits the metal trash can, you tear your eyes away from the way Sylus heatedly watches you, turning back to Luke and Kieran, “Are you two insane?!”
The twins look positively offended.
“How did you even convince him to drink so much?”
“Well, he was so distracted watching you that he just downed anything we put into his hands...”
You bite your lip, realizing how difficult it must’ve been for Sylus to sit back and just watch. But he did it, for you.
“Y/N.”
You try to ignore the way Sylus is stroking the bare skin of your shoulders, fingers coming dangerously close to your neck. His ruby eyes beg for your attention.
“Sylus might drink a lot, but he drinks wine –”
“Y/N.”
“Not hard alcohol! Look at how red he is! You guys, this was recklessly irresponsible!”
“Y/N.”
Sylus pulls you forcefully back into his arms, his head dipping into the crook of your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. Through the darkness of the night, you pray Luke and Kieran can’t see the way Sylus whispers into your ear.
“I need you.”
You fight the shiver that threatens to unleash through your unsuspecting body, his hot breath washing against your skin, the contrast of the brisk night air making you all the more sensitive. His fingers hold you in place, his hard body pressed into your own.
You sigh, trying to brush the arousal away, “Let’s get you home, yeah? We can –”
He nips at your earlobe, eliciting a squeak from your lips as he gruffly demands, “Now.”
Before you can protest further, Sylus’s eyes direct to the twins in front of you, the pair of them snickering to themselves knowingly as he dismisses them, “We’ll meet you at home.”
–
You didn’t even make it to your car.
Far from it, you found yourself pressed into the cold brickwall of a nearby alleyway, not fifteen feet from where Luke and Kieran had left the two of you. Sylus’s lips are latched onto yours in a furiously passionate embrace, his hands alternating between grabbing torridly at your waist and threading into the back of your neck, weaving into your sweat-dampened hair.
Your arms are wrapped around his neck for support against his torridly forceful kiss, his head tilted to the side to give him full access to your mouth, your lips, your tongue.
He doesn’t even stop to breathe, opting to inhale your breath as his own. His tongue forcefully explores every inch of your open and willing mouth, and you struggle to keep up with his excitement. His fingers massage your neck, grabbing eagerly at every part of you he can reach.
Sylus has always been passionate, but this was something else. It felt as if the alcohol in his blood amplified everything tenfold, leaving his cock thicker than ever against your shivering abdomen. His hands roam down your naked back, pulling at your waist again, pressing your body harder against his erection that leaks against his underwear.
Sylus’s head tilts to the other side, your face moving opposite his to instinctively receive his unbridled passion. He cups the back of your head again, shielding you head from hitting the wall, the force of his kiss pushing you against it violently.
He pulls away briefly, panting into you, his canines grazing into the soft skin of your ear, “You’re going to be the death of me, little dove.”
You want to question him, but his lips are back on yours in an instant, consuming you once more. His fingers grip your jaw so tightly, funneling all the emotions he’d held back, while watching you on the dancefloor with other men, into the way he holds you against the wall. Into the way he devours you.
He gives you a brief second of reprieve, pressing his lips into your neck, voice coming out husky and sulky, “I don’t enjoy seeing you with other men.”
You gasp as he pushes you impossibly deeper into the wall, teeth simultaneously digging into the curve of your neck. Your fingers thread up into his hair, tugging to ground yourself as Sylus sucks your soft skin.
“M-sooorry,” you slur, as if you’re the one who’s drunk, “B-But I got the information I – nnghn – needed.”
Sylus growls into your skin, “I knew you would. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”
His thumb presses against your bottom lip, eyes glazed over with a drunken hunger, “And you always have me at your mercy.”
It isn’t long before he has your back arched into his abdomen, the front of your sweat slicked body pressed into the cold alley wall, his cock buried in your wet gummy walls. Your panties are pushed messily to the side, your skirt hiked up to your waist.
Sylus’s fingers are shoved into your mouth, claiming to try and minimize your sounds so passerbys don't hear the filthy things he was doing to you. In reality, he was just addicted to your sweet mouth wrapped around him.
His other hand holds both of your wrists, locking them against the small of your back, leaving you absolutely at the mercy of his thick cock ramming in and out of you.
“S-so damn beautiful,” Sylus is almost slurring, having gotten more drunk the longer the alcohol sat in his stomach. The acoustics of the dark alley made his body pounding against yours all the louder and more sinful.
His thrusts are sloppy, the alcohol making it harder for him to maintain control. But that only serves to arouse you more, the sight of Sylus’s hazy eyes when you crane your neck back to see him, the sweat sticking to his flushed skin.
You can only moan, the pads of his fingers pressing down into your tongue. The loud drunken giggles of people passing by make your eyes widen, but Sylus doesn’t stop, only going faster.
“Never gonna let another man touch you, ever again,” he moans into your ear, as he ruts angrily into your g spot, his fingers pressing tiny bruises into the fat of your hips. He’s ten times handsier when he’s drunk, almost as if the alcohol makes his muscles itch, your body his fixation..
He spins you around suddenly, nearly making you lose your balance, his cock entering you just as quickly as it had slipped out. Sylus is desperate to see your beautifully hooded eyes, the faces you make when you come undone for him.
You grip the thick muscles of his neck, admiring his damp and exposed chest. The buttons of his shirt had been yanked open in the drunken shuffle, leaving little to imagination.
“H-Hey,” Sylus mutters, the faintest hint of a whine beneath his words, “Look at me.” His thrusts, sloppier than ever, never stopping.
You grin, despite how blissed out your mind is becoming, at his adorably needy behavior. As you let your eyes lose themselves in his, you stroke his jaw lovingly.
“Tell me,” he pants, his cock twitching as it presses insistently into your walls.
“Nngh — T-Tell you what Sy?” you coo breathlessly, nails digging into his sweaty skin, trying to distract yourself from the no doubt filthy brick wall pressing into your exposed back.
“Tell me how I make you feel,” Sylus’s jaw tightens dangerously.
He thrusts especially hard and deep when you don’t respond, capturing your wrist and pressing it into the wall above your head, effectively trapping you against the wall, “Tell me.”
You squeal, biting your lips, “Sylus! F-Feels s’good. N-No one else can — hng — make me feel like this!”
Sylus’s glossy ruby red eyes flicker, his fingers finding your clit pressed against his pelvis, “Yeah? You love my cock, don’t you sweetheart?”
You want to smile at how adorably needy his words are, the alcohol fueling him with the rare desire to be validated. Instead you just nod vehemently as he plays with your clit, “I dooo!”
Sylus grunts, struggling to breathe as you tighten around him. He grabs your cheeks in between his fingers, squeezing them firmly until your moans are muffled, “Shhh, we wouldn’t want someone to find us, would we little bird?”
You nod obediently, but your body responds instinctively to his words, your abdomen fluttering in excitement at the thought of being caught in such a compromising position, with the revered leader of Onychinus no less.
Sylus chuckles darkly, his every nerve receptive to your tiniest micromovements, and especially the excited way your pussy clamps down on his erection. His lips come down to kiss your jaw sweetly, contrary to the mean way he bullies himself into your cunt.
When he reaches the space beneath your ear he presses a tender kiss there, whispering huskily, “I can feel the way you’re tightening around me. Do you like the idea of someone watching us?”
Your eyes widen at him, and that’s all the answer he needs.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I would love to give them a show. Especially that man who had his hands all over you, hm? What was his name?”
“I-I d-don’t – hah – remember,” you wheeze, holding on as he bounces you into the wall, the sound of drunk bar patrons growing louder.
Sylus smiles darkly, his red eyes glowing in satisfaction, “Good girl. This pussy belongs t’me, hm?” His words come out in a purr, slightly sluggish with intoxication.
You can’t speak, opting to nod as eagerly as you can, your brain muddling against the pleasure of your joined bodies. Sylus chuckles at your wordless agreement.
“My precious dove…can’t even speak?” he coos, fingers still splayed out against your poor quivering clit, the wet sounds of his furious ministrations echoing throughout the dark alley. He leans in close to your ear.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. She’s so loud she might as well be answering for you,” he grins, clearly talking about your soaked and squelching pussy against his demanding thrusts.
You’re about to retort when you hear another group of people passing by the alley. Your hands fly up to your mouth, forcing your uncontrollable moans away. Your eyes squeeze shut as the patter of feet gets closer and closer, fear and excitement taking over.
“Ah-ah,” Sylus tuts, “You know better than to hide your beautiful sounds from me.” Your eyes widen when his words sink in.
Your hands fly to Sylus’s broad shoulders, but it’s too late to push him back. His hands find the globes of your ass, lifting you off the floor, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. At this angle Sylus can fully bounce you on his cock, using you however he wants. At this angle, the swollen tip brushes right into your cervix. At this angle, it’s physically impossible for you to muffle your cries.
Your nails dig into the ropes of his shoulder muscles as you squeal. Sylus only grins as the sound of feet falter, right in front of the alley.
You try your best to whisper, “Sy-Sylus, please. Th-they’ll hear.” But it was pointless. Even if you could hold back your whimpers, the echo of his arousal dampened pelvis slapping against the space where your thighs met your ass bounced off the walls of the alley like a resounding bell.
“You say that…” he murmurs, fingers coming back down to your clit, balancing you in just one arm, “But why is she getting so tight?”
He’s right, and there’s no denying it. Sylus is well acquainted with your body, knowing exactly what excites you, what you don’t like, what you love.
The heavy footsteps gradually fade, likely too drunk to hear anything than the pounding of distant EDM music. Sylus hears you sigh in relief, releasing a bated breath, but your cunt stays as tight as ever around him. It drives him insane.
Nearly getting caught has only pushed both of you to the cusp of your orgasms.
“Close, dove?” Sylus whispers into your ear, one hand pressed into the wall, the other bouncing you on his quivering cock.
Your head is thrown back as you nod, gasping for your next breath, “Y-Yes! So cloooose Sy!” At this point you don’t even care who could possibly hear you, only able to focus on the angry way Sylus’s cock twitching inside you, stroking your g-spot, begging to paint you white.
“M-Me too, Y/N,” Sylus’s uncharacteristic stutter, driven to madness by the alcohol and you, makes you clench down, hard.
He hisses, hips stuttering, teeth clamping down on your shoulder, tongue subsequently coming out to lap at the space where he bit down, soothing your skin.
The push of pain, the pull of pleasure, it’s just enough to tip you over, careening down the cliff of your orgasm. Your head falls back, eyes rolling with them, body fully preparing to show Sylus just how much you loved him.
But Sylus has other plans, squeezing your cheeks in between his fingers, directing you to look at him.
“Hey. Look at me, please.”
His commanding words remind you that he’s very much still intoxicated, making him adorably needy for your attention.
When your eyes level with his, his red eyes sparkle happily, like a puppy getting its ears scratched, “Hello, my love. Show me, hm?” The duality of his lovable desperation and his downright malevolent plunges into your cervix blurs the lines between pleasure and reality, sanity and madness.
You nod eagerly, holding his intense eye contact, while you burst at the seams, spraying all over his still clothed abdomen. Sparks of white hot electricity travel through every one of your nerve endings while you cum on him.
Sylus gulps, in awe of the way you sing for him, shame thrown to the wind. If anyone were to walk by, they’d hear the way you screamed for his cock. Hear the way your body made him gasp for his next breath. How he grunts with each rope of cum that he dumps into your waiting hole, each sloppy pump filling his vision with bleary stars.
As he cums, he whispers brokenly into your ear, “C-Can never get enough. I love you, sweetheart.” One of his big hands comes up to clamp around your throat, his fingers pressing down forcefully as he erupts inside of you.
“Ngh…I love you Sylus,” you murmur against the pleasure of your constricted air flow, clinging to him, truly like an injured bird.
Sylus kisses your lips tenderly as you both come down from your highs, his fingers carefully laying your panties back in place. When he sets you on the ground, you nearly collapse, your legs quivering from the way they’d been locked around his waist. His arms are back around you in an instant, holding you steady. His cum flows out of you like literal tears, but you can only clamp your thighs shut and pray your pathetic soiled panties can catch the streams of his milky seed.
He guides you carefully out of the alley, pressing affectionate kisses into the crown of your head as he holds your waist protectively. You’re so dazed you hardly notice that your skirt is still ridden up, until Sylus gently pulls it back down, smoothing the rumpled fabric with his large hands.
The sounds of two far too familiar voices greet you when you emerge from the backstreet.
“Are you guys finally done?”
“Do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting?!”
Sylus groans, running his hand down his face, “Didn’t I tell you two to go back to base?”
And though you’re thoroughly mortified at the idea of the twins having walked into your…situation, you can’t help but smile at the way Sylus handles Luke and Kieran. Like a father reprimanding his children.
“Well we did —”
“But then you guys didn’t come back for a while —”
“So we thought maybe something happened!”
You shake your head at their frenzied explanation, the smile stretching on your lips as you watch the twins move their hands animatedly in their defense, “You guys are impossible.”
Luke gasps in exaggerated earnest, “How can you say that after what you’ve put us through?”
Kieran nods in agreement, shuddering dramatically, “Yeah! I feel like I just walked in on my parents…”
“You two better watch yourselves before I confiscate your guns again,” Sylus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. But you can see the corner of his lips fighting an amused smile.
Luke and Kieran simultaneously gasp, their reaction making it seem like Sylus was a father grounding his children, taking away their toys. You burst out into giggles, hugging Sylus’s side to keep warm as you watch the comical situation unfold.
“There’s no need for you to do that, Sy,” you murmur, looking up at him, admiring the way the moonlight frames his face. Sylus peers down at you, his face softening, before nodding curtly.
The twins snicker. Luke uses his hand as a shield in front of his mouth to whisper to Kieran, pointing to Sylus behind it, “Whipped.”
You shoot them a smile, a deceptively innocent and sweet grin, “I’ll gladly confiscate them for you.”
There’s nearly a cartoon puff of smoke left behind when the twins scurry off, desperately clutching their holsters and begging for mercy.
Sylus chuckles as he watches them run off, his arm slung over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side as he presses a kiss into your forehead.
“Truly a force to be reckoned with.”
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.8k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, drunk mc and xavier, pre-established relationship (but not first time), public sex/voyeurism, sex on the dance floor, standing sex, fingering, dancing without leaving room for jesus, grinding, jealous!mc, not a content warning but xavier is wearing tight black shirt and jeans…….MMMMMM, unprotected sex, handjob through clothes
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: original inspo | pics (how xavier and you make out in this)
The thumping beat of club music pounds in your ears, making it difficult to hear even your own thoughts. But you really didn’t care, too intoxicated and having too much fun dancing with Tara in a throng of sweaty club goers.
The both of you had requested today off, wanting to see an up and coming DJ at the Linkon Lounge. You’d started the night off at your apartment, getting dolled up in your wispiest lashes and outfits that made you feel strong, confident, and beautiful. You’d shared a couple shots of tequila before slipping on your heels and scrambling out of your apartment, in a fit of tipsy and hushed giggles.
Coincidentally enough, you ran into Xavier on your way out. Your blonde-haired partner was in the apartment lobby, grabbing his mail, when you and Tara bumped into him, literally. If it weren’t for Xavier’s quick reflexes, his forearm darting out to wrap around your waist, you definitely would’ve ended the night before it began, with an ice pack in your hand rather than a fruity drink.
And that’s when Tara had invited Xavier out with you. Truthfully, you were sure Xavier would say no. The club definitely wasn’t his scene, and he undoubtedly had plans to have a cozy night in. But you were pleasantly surprised when he blurted out ‘yes’ before Tara could even get the words completely out. Tara knew Xavier wanted to come to keep an eye on you, and she was all too happy to play matchmaker.
You hadn’t seen Xavier for what felt like at least fifteen minutes. You assumed he went off to the bathroom, or maybe to order some more drinks. Before long, you started to worry.
“I’m gonna go look for Xavier! Will you be okay?” you practically scream over the music, pulling the side of Tara’s face to your mouth so she can hear you better.
“I’ll be here!” she yells, pointing at her phone, “Text me if you can’t find me!” You nod, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
You push your way out of the crowd, apologizing profusely as you’re met with the displeased looks and groans of drunk patrons.
Eventually you make your way to the edge of the dancefloor, scouring the area for Xavier. You had a difficult time focussing your eyes, stumbling about, but did your best to look for the enigmatic Hunter.
You quickly check the line at the bar before deciding to check the bathroom. It’s then you catch the glint of familiar platinum blonde hair, Xavier’s body leaned up against the wall near the public water fountains.
You gulp at the sight of him, his head leaned back to rest against the wall, his hands folded across his chest. The musky sweat of the enclosed space made his black fitted t-shirt cling to his biceps, his skin glistening with sweat under the pulsing LED lights.
Even from this far away, it’s clear Xavier is drunk. His eyes are hooded with intoxication, his throat bobbing with shallow breaths.
You’re about to approach him when the groups of people in front of you shift, and you see a girl latched onto Xavier’s bicep. The two look far too cozy, Xavier not doing anything to push her off as she speaks animatedly up at him, her eyelashes batting seductively.
It’s not like you and Xavier were dating…but it was clear there was something deeply intertwined about the two of you. That, and the fact that you’d been intimate several times. But you had to admit, you’d never made things exclusive.
You turn on your heel, thoroughly perturbed at the sight of Xavier with someone else, making your way back to where you’d left Tara.
You’d just broken into the crowd when a firm hand catches your wrist, stopping you from pushing further. You turn back sharply, ready to throw your fist back, only to be met with the sight of Xavier, in all his flushed and handsome glory.
“Where are you going?”
You fight the urge to smack him, jealousy a true green-eyed monster, instead just feigning ignorance, “What? I can’t hear you!” You gesture wildly with your hands to emphasize your point. You turn away from him, starting to tug your wrist away again when he pulls you back, hard.
He twirls you effortlessly into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you, secure and unrelenting. You look up at him in question. He leans down, and your breath catches as his lips come an inch away from yours. But he doesn’t kiss you, instead whispering into your ear.
“I asked where you were going. Didn’t you see me?” his breath is warm against your ear, the smell of alcohol invading your senses over the pounding music.
“You looked busy. I didn’t want to intrude,” you try to keep your voice level, but you can tell it comes out petty. You hope through the deafening music, Xavier can’t hear how sulky your voice is.
Xavier looks confused in his drunken state, but shouts into your ear, his tone genuine and endearing even amidst the music, “You’re never intruding.”
You sigh at his sweet words, tiptoeing up to speak to him and trying to be nice, “Who was your friend?”
Xavier looks even more bewildered for a second, before realizing the implications of your words, a lazy smile painting his features. He holds you close, one hand on the small of your back, the other coming up to touch your cheek.
“Not my friend. She couldn’t find her friends and wanted to wait with me.”
You roll your eyes. Xavier was too sweet and unassuming for his own good.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Xavier chuckles, “You don’t have to be jealous, I only have eyes for you.”
Your cheeks flare amidst the flush of alcohol on your cheeks at his words, and before you can speak Xavier is leaning down to kiss you. You squeak in surprise, but respond to his lips, kissing him back.
Xavier kisses you slowly, gently, and tenderly. You can barely even hear the music around you, the musky people bumping into the pair of you. All you can feel is Xavier, lips on yours, his hands stroking your bare skin, his hardening erection against your stomach.
He pulls away for air, his lips swollen and wet from your passionate kiss. Your ears pound in excitement at the way Xavier looks down at you, hungry and wanting more. You hook your arms around Xavier’s neck, pulling him down until your foreheads brush against each other.
“Dance with me,” you whisper loudly against the music. Xavier’s eyes shine with excitement, and he nods, his hands gripping your waist as you start to sway to the music.
You turn around so you can watch the flashing lights, the alcohol making them look like a light show. You feel much bolder with the liquid courage running through your veins, so you grind back into Xavier, your rear molding perfectly against his crotch.
Xavier hardens so quickly against your movements, your body feeling so perfect against his. The alcohol makes everything feel much more fluid and raw, his body responding excitedly.
He too is fueled by the courage of intoxication, his hands roaming from your hips to your stomach, just above the fat of your cunt. He can feel the way you shiver at his touch, and he decides to dare further.
His strong hands wander up, until they cup your breasts through your sheer dress. He rests his chin on your shoulder, whispering into your ear.
“Is this alright?”
You crane your neck backwards to nod at him, eyes flickering to his lips. Xavier leans in to kiss you again, one hand still playing with your nipple, the other reaching up to hold your throat against him gently. The two of you kiss so passionately, so messily, that you hardly notice the crowd of equally drunk and horny people around you.
As you kiss him, your hand comes backward to cup the back of Xavier’s head, grabbing at his soft blonde locks. Your body continues to rock sensually into him, relishing in the way his hard erection sits between the slit of your ass.
Looking up at him through your wet eyelashes, you whisper, “M-More. I want more.”
Xavier groans, looking around, trying to find the quickest way out of the crowd. But you can’t wait, too aroused by the way Xavier’s shirt clings to his muscles, the way his cock fights against his jeans, straining to be with you.
The alcohol dares you to be bolder than you normally would ever be. You grab his wrist, bringing it down to the hem of your minidress, guiding his fingers to slip under it.
You can feel Xavier stiffen behind you, eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching. But he quickly realizes quite literally no one cares about the two of you, too focussed on the music, too focussed on their own partners, to even spare you a glance.
So he follows your lead, his hands roaming under your dress, digging into your soft thighs. You moan into his ear, your head laid back on his shoulder.
With his palm so close to your cunt, you grind right into his open hand, wanting more friction, more of him. Xavier groans at your enthusiasm, quickly forgetting about the people that are packed around you like sardines. He feels something damp against his fingers, making him all the more desperate to have you.
“You’re wet,” Xavier whispers sluggishly into your ear, “Is this all for me?”
You groan at his words, your muscles twitching with anticipation. You try and look at him, the back of your head still resting on his thick shoulder. Your hand grasps at the back of his neck, forcing his eyes to drift down to you, the azure blues flickering to your lips before they come back to your gaze.
“Touch me, please.”
Even under the strobing lights of the club you can see Xavier’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening. His eyes flutter shut as he leans down to kiss you.
At the same time, his finger gingerly dips into your folds, moving your panties to the side. At first he just rubs up and down with his middle finger, enjoying the way you moan into his mouth. But it becomes far too unbearable, not being inside you.
He slowly dips his middle finger inside of you, hissing when your little hole sucks him in tightly.
“Is this okay?” Xavier asks, wanting to make sure you’re alright. Your eyes dart around lazily, making sure no one can see Xavier’s hands underneath your dress.
You nod, your eyelashes fluttering shut as Xavier starts to pump in and out of you. The energetic music makes everything feel more surreal, only the occasional jostling of people bumping into the pair of you reminding you of exactly where you are.
Xavier’s index finger finds its way inside you, his thumb rubbing at your slippery clit. He alternates his free arm between shielding you from people pushing as they pass by, and cupping your breast through your dress. In all your writhing, your ass continues to grind against Xavier’s cock. Under his jeans, he’s leaking so profusely that your body rubs around the slick, creating a sticky mess.
Xavier pumps inside you, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him, the feeling of risk and wrong.
“Please – Please don’t stop,” you pant, looking up at him with starry eyes.
The look of complete and utter bliss on your gorgeously flushed face makes Xavier bite his lip, “I’ll never stop, angel.”
You clench down hard on his fingers at the endearing pet name, one he so rarely called you. It makes you writhe against his hot and hard body, pressed firmly into you, like a puzzle piece.
With your back still turned to him, you reach your hand back to where his bulge presses into you. With careful hands, you cup the massive swell of his manhood, biting your lip when he moans into your ear, teeth grazing against your earlobe.
You rub him enthusiastically through his jeans, enjoying the way he writhes under your touch, his cock straining through the tight restraint of his pants.
“You’re evil,” Xavier groans, pressing kisses into your neck, trying to contain the moans he wants to make for you.
You lean your head back, staring at him through hooded eyes, “Should I stop?”
Xavier holds you tight, almost crushing you, to keep you from stopping.
“No. Never.”
You giggle, turning back to the club stage, watching the DJ perform, hands finding their way back to Xavier’s crotch. His pants are heavy and breathy by your ear, fingers scissoring in and out of you furiously.
Soon enough, the feeling of just your plush body against his isn’t enough anymore. He needs more.
With his fingers never pausing, he asks, his voice smooth and sultry, “I need to be inside of you, is that okay?”
“Please,” you whisper huskily, grinding against his fingers, “I want you.”
You can feel Xavier shifting behind you, pulling out his cock. He feverishly pulls your panties down just slightly, so that they rest under your cheeks. He lifts your dress, enough to give him access but making sure you’re still covered. He would rather die than let anyone see your precious body.
As the music comes to a peak, the beat building alongside your release, Xavier slips his erection into you. You’re thankful for the heavy bass of the drop because you quite literally cannot hold back the scream that rips from your lips as he pushes himself into the hilt.
One of his hands travels from your waist to under the front of your dress. When he finds your clit, he pinches down hard.
“You’re so cute,” Xavier hisses into your ear, picking up his pace, “Were you jealous earlier?”
“N-No! Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” you whimper, your fingers gripping the arm he has buried between your legs.
“Mmm,” Xavier hums, clearly not convinced, “That’s alright, Y/N. You have nothing to be jealous of, ever.”
“I-I’m not – I wasn’t!” you gasp, forcing the words together as Xavier’s cock nearly finds its way into your throat. But at this point you knew he could see right through you.
“Would travel through time and space for you,” he murmurs, words full of a boundless affection, “I only see you.”
He puts all that same adoration and passion into the way he fucks up into you, holding you protectively in place, making sure no one so much as brushes against you.
Your moans are strangled when his cockhead angles into your g-spot, cutting off the drunken confessions on the tip of your tongue. Xavier’s girth was always something you had a hard time getting used to, and taking him standing was infinitely harder. Your inner thighs burned with the strain of how fully he stretches you out.
Xavier’s hand comes over to cover your mouth, his smile pressed against your throat. The alcohol makes Xavier irregularly chatty, his inhibitions lowered completely, “You’re so loud. Does it feel that good?”
Your eyes are rolled back mesmerized by the flashing lights, unable to discern what comes from the nightclub’s light show and what comes from the pleasure of Xavier’s poignant thrusts. You do your best to nod, your teeth sinking into Xavier’s palm to keep yourself conscious.
You’re nearly doubled over now, your jelly legs unable to hold you up, with only the support of Xavier’s strong hand against your cunt and his other arm wrapped around your chest. He holds you up as securely as he can, his own intoxication growing having not drank any water since you’d arrived at the club.
“Are you okay?”
Xavier’s head snaps up to see a club patron in front of you, a concerned look on his face as he kneels down to be eye-level with you. Xavier squick readjusts to make sure you’re covered.
Your eyes widen, trying to straighten up, “F-Fine!” You nearly scream as Xavier continues to thrust into you, his movement much more conspicuous but somehow more intense.
“Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”
You want to be kind, but you can really only focus on the way Xavier continues to fuck you, not even caring that the good Samaritan in front of you was this close to realizing what was happening. The fact that you were still very much drunk did not help.
“N-No, I’m fine,” you squeak, eyes rolling back when Xavier hits your g-spot. You can’t see him but you just know he’s enjoying the position he has you in. He smirks in satisfaction, grinding into your ass, his thick length nestling into your every nerve.
The man looks skeptical, especially at your unfocused hooded eyes, “Do you want some water?”
He’s about to reach out to touch you, when Xavier yanks you back, both arms wrapped protectively around you, “She’s fine.”
At Xavier’s harsh tone, the man recoils, looking up, almost as if he’s just noticing Xavier. He nods awkwardly before disappearing into the crowd.
Xavier resumes his vigor, kissing your neck and whispering, “Mine.”
“Now look who’s jealous,” you giggle languidly, gasping when Xavier drives into you harder.
“Not jealous. It’s just the truth,” he murmurs, tilting your head back to kiss you, fingers back on your clit.
His tongue explores your mouth excitedly, your pleasures quickly reaching a peak after coming close to being caught. Your body convulses around him, wanting him to push you into the oblivion of ecstasy.
“Always so tight,” Xavier groans, “I-I won’t last long like this…”
You squeal, your sounds drowned out by the vibrating music, “Ngh – me too Xavier.”
“G-Gonna cum,” Xavier gasps as your cunt strangles him, ripping away from your lips and panting for air.
You crane your neck back to look at him, your eyes wide with wonder and desperation. The blissed out look on your beautiful face makes Xavier groan, his hips stuttering into his climax.
“Cum for me, Xavier,” you beg, impossibly close as well, “Want to feel you.”
Xavier shuts his eyes, his body following your every command. His cock explodes inside you, filling you with a hot warmth that spreads all the way to your fingertips and toes. Xavier doesn’t speak as he cums, only suckling hungrily at your neck, moaning and whimpering into your bruised skin.
He keeps thrusting into you, even as his cum starts to leak out of your hole, wanting you to come undone too. Even when the overstimulation starts to border on pain, he refuses to stop.
His cum makes it so there’s zero resistance, only the pure pleasure of his cock against your throbbing gummy walls. Soon, you’re cumming too, screaming into the pulsating music, your climax crescendoing with the drop of the song. The symphony of it all, the alcohol, the threat of being caught by any one of the dozens of people around you, makes it one of your most intense orgasms yet.
Your body instinctively clenches down as you release, making you cream all over Xavier, a mix of both your arousals. Xavier watches in awe at the beautiful way you cum, for him. It’s enough to make him pump a few more ropes into you, even as his dick throbs sharply in protest.
Xavier hugs you to his chest tightly, holding onto you for support as his cock quivers inside you. You can feel his chest heaving against your back, shifting as he slips out of you and redoes his zipper. Xavier puts your panties back into place, pressing a faint trail of kisses along your shoulders.
Suddenly, the crowd feels suffocating and icky and you desperately want to be somewhere quieter with Xavier. You pull him out of the crowd, nudging throngs of drunk and horny patrons out of the way as you make your way to the bar. Xavier follows you sluggishly, his fingers barely closing over yours as you guide him out..
When you reach the bar, you order a water and turn to Xavier worriedly, cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“Xavier,” you urged, “Are you okay?”
Xavier’s eyes flutter open, his eyes slightly rolled back, “M’okay. Just sleepy.” You giggle, patting his face gently, realizing the haze in his eyes is a mix of intoxication and post-sex bliss.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re always so sleepy. Especially after…”
Despite Xavier’s eyes remaining closed, he smiles and mumbles as he leans against the wall next to the bar, “Can’t help it. You drain me.”
You blush furiously, despite it being loud enough where no one can hear you two. The bartender hands you a glass of water, and you bring it up to Xavier’s lips. Xavier’s eyelids flicker open, his long eyelashes fluttering as he takes in his surroundings again, like he’s so intoxicated off the alcohol and you that he can’t make sense of his bearings.
You take his chin into your palm, tilting him up gently so the water doesn’t spill. Xavier drinks obediently, not letting a single drop go to waste. His position against the wall makes it so that you tower a few inches over him, so he has to look up at you through his eyelashes. With each gulp of the icy water he never breaks eye contact with you, staring at you with all the awe and devotion in the world.
His hands gently grip your wrists, nuzzling into your hand. The way he watches you makes you want to squirm, his eyes glimmering under the flashing lights. His azure eyes feel like they hold the weight of an entire galaxy, but in reality it’s the reflection of you that makes his eyes sparkle with the brilliance of the stars.
“Hey! There you two are!”
You whip your head around to see Tara excitedly hurrying over to you as Xavier finishes the last of the water.
You turn to her, “Tara! I’m sorry, I found Xavier but then we got…caught up.”
She smiles and shakes her head. There’s a knowing mischief in her eyes, as if she doesn’t believe you, “It’s alright! I made some friends.”
She looks at Xavier. Even though you no longer hold up the empty glass to his lips, he still stares at you with the same starstruck look, a post-orgasm mist over his entire face.
“Why does he look like that?”
Your cheeks burn and you scramble to find an excuse, “Oh, he’s fine! He’s just drunk. And sleepy. Very sleepy.”
Tara grabs your chin, tilting it up in a squint, inspecting you. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, if maybe your false eyelashes came off, but when you look down at your shoulder you see exactly what she’s looking at.
A bright red, purpling bruise. In the exact shape of Xavier’s lips.
“Oh, I bet he’s sleepy.”
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.7k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, drunk zayne, needy zayne, jealous zayne, couch sex, booby sucking, pretty vanilla tbh, slightly sub zayne, zayne begs a lot, prone bone, doggy, choking, making out, cumming in coochie, mentions of birth control usage, zayne is a lightweight
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: original inspo | video | art (credit to @roschea-arts)
You stumble into your apartment, nearly tripping over the threshold as Zayne’s heavy arm slumps over your shoulder for support. You kick your heels off, briefly bending down to slip Zayne’s shoes off, before you lead him to sit on your couch.
“Sit here while I get some water for you, okay?” you whisper worriedly against Zayne’s nearly unconscious face, pressing a kiss to his heated and clammy temple. Zayne doesn’t respond, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a shallow breath, nodding gently.
Well, this was definitely not how you’d expected tonight to go.
When you’d invited Zayne as your date to the annual UNICORN hosted Hunters’ Association Banquet, you expected it to be a relatively uneventful night. You never expected your raven-haired surgeon boyfriend to get drunk. In fact, you’d never seen him so much as tipsy since you’d known him.
And that was something Zayne intentionally made sure of; alcohol was not something he indulged in, ever.
Except when you’re so busy socializing all night that he gets unbearably bored, curious, and desperate for your attention.
So that’s how he ended up absolutely plastered off two cocktails. In his defense they were deceptively fruity and sweet, the rims coated in thick crystals of sugar. Truly his kryptonite.
So when Zayne grabs your wrist while you’re talking to a fellow Hunter, spinning you gently to his hard chest, you’re completely taken aback.
“Apologies. Can I steal my girlfriend for a moment?”
Your colleague, standing before the both of you, looks flustered at Zayne’s commanding voice, nodding fervently before he turns to leave. His face is pale, not realizing you’d brought a guest to the banquet, much less a guest that looked as handsome and imposing as Zayne. You whip around, eyebrows raised, to face the surgeon in question.
His face is uncharacteristically red, the tips of his ears burning so adorably bright. The first few buttons of his shirt had been undone, the collar disheveled, like he’d pulled at it until the enclosures gave way. What’s more, the tension that colored his words, alarming and unusual.
“Zayne? What’s wrong?” you reach up to touch his cheek worriedly, gasping at how warm his normally chilly skin was, “Are you not feeling well?”
Zayne releases your wrist, instead capturing your hand on his jaw with his own palm, pressing you deeper into his cheek. He practically purrs into your touch, nuzzling into your hand warmly.
“You feel nice.” His voice is low, almost a rough whisper against the cheerful laughter of the night.
It was very unlike Zayne to be so blatant with his affections, especially in front of either of your colleagues. In this case, the packed banquet hall of UNICORN’s annual Hunter’s banquet, filled with curious and nosy onlookers, peering at the two of you embracing in the middle of the party.
Perhaps the bustling activity became too overwhelming for Zayne, especially given that you had been pulled every which way to discuss your recent mission successes. You’d hardly had a chance to make sure he was doing okay.
“Did you want to leave? I can —”
Zayne pulls you closer to him until your bodies are pressed together tightly, his slender fingers holding your waist in place. You squeak in surprise, blushing as you try to ignore the prying eyes of your colleagues as Zayne strokes your cheek, fingers playing with your loose strands of hair.
“Who was that?” Zayne’s voice is deceptively calm against the top of your head as he breathes in your familiar scent, masking the demand and restraint lurking just below the surface. Your pheromones calm him down slightly, making him feel much more at ease.
“Who was who?”
Zayne bends down to reach your ear, his normally calm and stoic voice much more shaky than usual, “That man, who was making you laugh. He seemed friendly.”
Zayne’s words tickle your ear, making you shiver. It’s then you can smell the alcohol on him, as he leans down to whisper in your ear, the bitter scent of vodka mixing with the faint smell of his cologne. Suddenly the questions of his irregular behavior clicked.
You lean back to look at him in shock, “Zayne?! Are you drunk?”
Zayne looks sheepish, his hazel eyes still intense, “No. I don’t – hic – don’t think so.”
You want to laugh at his incriminating hiccup, the surgeon undoubtedly intoxicated. That fact is only confirmed to you when you tip-toe up to peck his lips and taste the bittersweet trace of alcohol on him.
“You were so busy, I got curious and decided to...indulge. Just this once,” Zayne admits, his eyes never leaving yours as he holds you close.
You don’t speak, in shock at the way his words are slightly whiny and sulky all at once, something you never heard from Zayne. Zayne was never one to be jealous, and much less to actually show that jealousy.
Zayne’s eyes lower, glowing at you in a soft regret, “I’m sorry.”
You giggle, resting your head on his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. For that brief moment, you forget all about the watchful eyes around you, only able to focus on the man you loved before you.
“How many drinks did you have?”
He pauses, looking genuinely deep in thought as he tries to recall the night, “Two, no…maybe three.”
You grin wordlessly. Zayne never drank, so he was undoubtedly a lightweight, that was no surprise. But you would’ve thought it would take more than three drinks to knock the formidable man off his ass.
Zayne’s jaw clenched as he admires how beautiful you look tonight, his wandering alcohol-fueled desires pushing him to want to see much more, “Would it be alright if we called it a night?”
You nod, peering up at him, “Of course, are you not feeling well from the alcohol?”
Zayne averts his eyes, clearing his throat. His neck bobs against his undone collar, his tie hanging loosely around his chest.
“I’m alright. I just…want to be alone with you.”
By the time you arrived at your apartment, Zayne had gotten considerably more drunk, the alcohol being further absorbed into his bloodstream.
You hurriedly bring him a cool glass of water, standing in between his thighs, over his limp body. Zayne’s head is thrown back against the cushion of your couch, already having yanked off his suit jacket and tie, the articles of clothing strewn over the arm of the seat, his neck and collar exposed. His snowy pale skin is splotched red, practically radiating a wave of heat.
Your fingers cup his sharp jaw, tilting his chin up, shifting to hold his heavy head in the palm of your hand, stroking his cheek lovingly. Zayne’s eyes flicker up to yours as you tilt him up, his glasses slightly fogged up from the heated crimson flush on his cheeks. His eyes light up when they meet yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he fights to keep his eyes open. You bite your lip, trying to keep your wide smile at bay. He looked so utterly adorable like this, looking up so affectionately obedient like this.
You bring the glass gently up to his lips, encouraging him to drink. Zayne obeys, lips latching onto the edge of the cup as you tilt it forward, gently nudging his chin upwards with your other hand.
His eyes flutter open at the feeling of your touch, his golden emerald irises trained solely on you as he drinks, refusing to look away. He’s so focussed on you that dribbles of water stream down his chin as he gulps down the entire glass, falling onto his collar.
His eyes never leave yours as he chugs the entire glass of refreshing water, the whites of his eyes shining in the dim lighting of your apartment. If anyone else saw the way Zayne looked at you, they’d swear they could see hearts reflected in them as he drank from your hands. He looked at you as if his entire world spun around you, the center of his universe.
When you pull away, Zayne’s eyes still don’t leave yours. Instead, they appear to become more intense, more fiery.
“Zayne? Do you want more water?”
He doesn’t answer. You’re too distracted by the incensed pools of peridot when Zayne yanks you onto his lap, lips capturing yours hungrily.
–
“Ngh – Zayne!” you moan, pulling away from his demanding and bruising lips. Zayne grants you a brief break to breathe, but his fingers firmly hold your hips in place atop his erection that strains against his buckled pants, the two of you nestled deep into the couch cushion.
He gives you a second before he’s yanking your chin towards him again, soft mouth crushed against yours in an instant. Your lips are captured gently between his teeth, his hunger for you insatiable. The taste of alcohol is still faint on his tongue, and he wants nothing more than to overwhelm himself with the taste of you.
You’re completely engulfed by him, the ferocity of his mouth against yours, the warmth of his breath against your tongue. Zayne’s jaw alternates, side to side, trying to give himself the best access to you he can possibly get. The cool touch of metal grazes against your cheeks, his glasses pressing against you in the vigor of his embrace. He groans in frustration into your mouth, forcing himself to briefly pull away.
Before you can even question him, he’s yanking his misted up glasses off by the temples, tossing them onto your coffee table without a second glance, without a single care. His eyes are hooded with desire, his glasses no longer obstructing you from him. They shut sensually when he leans back in, lips parting as his glasses clatter louding against the table.
He says nothing, smashing his lips into yours once again. You can vaguely feel the distinct bump of his nose, pressing into your skin, when he grabs the back of your head, pulling you harder against his all consuming hunger.
His tongue is unbelievably tender against yours, despite how urgently and desperately he devours you. His fingers press into the divots of your arched back, his arms are completely wrapped around you, bringing you into an affectionate embrace as he continues to consume you whole. His fingers stroke up and down the half exposed expanse of your back, enjoying how soft you feel against his big hands.
You grind down onto his cock as you try and match his passion, your panties sticking to your soaked folds. Your thighs are spread so widely against his legs, that the dampness smears against his dress pants, your dress doing little to hold anything back.
Zayne hisses at the delicious pressure, lips leaving yours to gasp into your ear, his hot breath caressing the sensitive skin.
“D-Don’t,” he gulps deeply, alcohol and anticipation making him trip over his words, “Unless you're willing to take responsibility for the consequences.”
You shiver at his words, leaning in to kiss his reddened earlobe, “And if I am?”
And that’s how you find yourself naked, sweaty, and writhing on your back, under the pressure of Zayne’s half naked body on top of you, his cock ravaging every inch of your poor cunt.
Zayne is a mumbling and moaning mess above you, droplets of sweat beading on his bright red temples, his damp hair dangling below his forehead. His unbuttoned dress shirt flies wildly, his thick muscles twitching every time his lower half drives into you like a madman. If it weren’t for the sweat lining your back, you’d undoubtedly be pushed around the couch like a ragdoll under Zayne’s furious passion.
You can barely see Zayne’s eyes, his dangling bangs obscuring much of his frantic face. You do your best to sit up, your chin on your chest, watching the way Zayne’s glistening body jackhammers into you, his rhythm erratic and desperate.
Trying not to drool, you watch his abdominal muscles twitch, his briefs and dress pants hanging off his hips. He’d been so eager to bury himself inside of you that he didn’t even take off his clothing, instead pulling his cock out from under the top of the waistband of his briefs. It’s so heavy and thick with excitement that the restraint of his brief’s waistband is no match for it.
“M’sorry,” Zayne mumbles, so slurred you barely even hear it through the clinking of his undone belt, hanging off his waist.
“Wh-what?” you pant, tugging at the sweat-soaked shirt that clings to his back.
“Didn’t mean to get so intoxicated,” he pants breathlessly, almost sounding guilty, “I’m sorry.”
Your heart clenches at the vulnerability shining in his eyes. You know he’s not used to letting himself feel his emotions like this, to really give into his needs and desires.
“Zayne, don’t apologize,” you whimper through the pleasure, stroking his cheek, “You’re allowed to let go sometimes.”
Your words nearly make Zayne snarl, his pelvis slapping into your ass, his hands elevating hips, your thighs wrapped tightly into his sides.
“You’re so good to me,” he rasps, eyes rolling back as his praises make your body instinctively clench down, “I–I love you.”
“A-ahh nghn – love you s’much Zayne,” you squeal as he thrusts even deeper into you, his confession only increasing the passion he feels for you in the drunken moment.
You’re surprised when you feel his damp hair pressing against your forehead, his cool lips brushing a soft kiss onto it, deceptively gentle compared to the way he ravages your wet heat.
“M’always thinking about you,” Zayne moans, voice muffled as he kisses your forehead over and over, unable to keep his lips, his hands, off of you.
“I think about y’too Za–ayne,” you pant, trying to focus on forming coherent words through the shape of his erection being molded into your core. You knew just how vulnerable the fog of alcohol had made Zayne and wanted more than anything to reassure him.
But his cock stretching you out, nearly the width of a clenched fist, made that so difficult.
“You looked – you look ravishing tonight,” he slurs, kissing down your cheek and onto your neck, “Had a hard time tonight, watching you – hic – be the most beautiful girl in the room.”
Your chest flutters and you blush, clenching onto him, “H-Hardly.”
Zayne’s eyebrows furrow, giving you a pointed thrust, making your breasts jiggle at the force, “Look at what you do to me.”
His fingers cup your breast forcefully, squeezing down on your poor nipple, “You know I’m not one for jealousy…”
“But even I am not immune when you look like that, giving everyone but me your attention.”
“Sorry, my love,” you murmur, trying your best to speak through his frantic thrusts, “You know you’re the one I come home to at the end of the day.”
Zayne’s eyes darken with satisfaction, his fingers twirling your nipple in between them, “I suppose. But does that give you the right to let men flirt with you shamelessly all night?”
“Zayne, they weren’t —” But apparently protesting was a mistake, because Zayne only starts to hammer into you harder.
“They were,” he growls drunkenly, letting his emotions take control for a split second, “But I can’t really blame them, not when you look like this. Not when you feel this perfect around me.”
You whine at his words, his simultaneous threats and praises making it impossible for you to think straight.
“I-I’m soorry,” you find yourself apologizing, wanting to please Zayne, “Won’t do it again, I’ll b-be good!”
“No need to – hah – apologize, my love,” Zayne groans, “Not when I plan on reminding you exactly who you belong to tonight, all night.”
Your body convulses around him, knowing just how much stamina Zayne has, just how serious his slurred words are. Zayne’s hips falter, his body buckling into you.
“You’re s-oo tight,” he groans brokenly, letting his head fall down to your chest, “All for me, right?
“Allll f’you! Only you!” you cry, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt when his teeth close over your nipple, nibbling gently. You claw at his back, desperately wanting to be able to touch his bare skin, but his white dress shirt is in the way.
“That’s my girl,” he moans, words muffled by the way his tongue circles around your hardened peaks, suckling like he was trying to find the antidote to intoxication, “So good for me.”
As his thrusts grow sloppier, you know he’s coming close to his end. But you’re surprised when he pulls out suddenly, leaving you feeling empty.
“W-Why?” you demand, leaning up on your elbows in protest. Your eyes widen, almost salivating, when you see the way Zayne is gripping the base of his cock, the thick head red, angry, and ready to burst. He curses, forcing himself to take deep breaths, desperately trying to hold his orgasm back. He was learning that alcohol significantly decreased his normally endless supply of stamina.
“Don’t want to – ngh – finish yet,” he pants, hooking his arm under your back and flipping you over so that your back faces him, your hips arched slightly off the couch. He quickly takes off his pants that are pooled by his knees, his briefs still clinging to his muscled thighs.
You squeak in surprise when you feel the wet smack of Zayne’s cock against your ass, the surgeon hissing at the painful yet arousing sensation. The sting helps to keep him from exploding right onto your beautiful body.
“Ngh – Zaaayne!” you squeal when Zayne shoves himself back into you, parting your cheeks to give himself better access. You claw at your couch as he picks up his speed, rhythm still unsteady.
“I’m sorry,” Zayne apologizes, his words bordering on frenzied babbles as he pounds into you, his heavyset balls slapping against your clit, “M’sorry, love. Let me make it better.”
He leans down, pressing a trail of kisses down your spine, his pelvis rippling against your rear. His veiny forearms cage you into the couch, his foot lifting to step onto the cushion, right by your waist. With his leg raising as leverage, he can truly jackhammer into you.
Zayne goes absolutely feral in this position, his fingers coming up to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging gently as he bounces up and down on your ass. The sounds of skin against skin, drunken moans, and moist squelches resounds like a symphony in the early morning lighting of your apartment.
His grasp tightens in your hair, his other hand kneading the plush of your ass as it ripples against his thrusts. His voice lowers, throwing his head back with a moan, “Been waiting all night to have you like this.”
“Oh-oh God!” you cry when he thrusts into you, particularly hard and deep, making you see stars, “Zayne I-I can’t – I’m so close!”
Zayne hoists you onto all fours, gently lifting your upper body by your neck so that you’re pressed firmly against him with your knees holding you up. He kneels behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other secures your neck against his chest.
“Me too, angel,” Zayne pants into your ear, his breath hot and moist. You can feel the truth in his words, his thighs shaky against yours, his thrusts erratic.
“Please, let me cum in you,” Zayne rasps.
“When have I ever denied you?” you respond. Zayne came inside you nearly every time you two were intimate, ever since you’d started birth control.
“It’s a waste, if it’s not inside you,” Zayne slurs, “You’ll take it, right?”
When you don’t respond, too wrapped up in the bliss of it all, Zayne’s hand descends to pinch your nipple. The power of his thrusts, the tease of his hands, his aura. He commands authority,
“Tell me you’ll take it all, for me.”
“I will, I will! P-please Zayne, give it to me!”
Zayne groans, grip tightening against your body, hugging you for dear life, “That’s my girl, that’s it, just like that.
Zayne has always been vocal, but his drunken ramblings have taken it to another level. You clench down, ready to come undone to the sound of his filthy praises.
Zayne is close behind you, hands kneading your breasts, balls slapping against your clit, “It’s coming Y/N, take it. Take it for me, please.”
You scream in response, cunt spasming around the last of his messy ruts. Zayne’s own strangled groans mix with the sound of wet flesh slapping against each other. You can feel every beautiful ribbon of white hot cum painting your insides, coating every inch of your waiting womb.
Zayne’s skin often felt ice-cold, but his cum always came out so hot and heedy. And now, with the flush of alcohol still clouding his circulation, his milky ropes of seed nearly made you feverish.
Zayne slumps against you, his body spent, drained bone-dry. The weight of him against your quivering muscles is too much, and your thighs give out, sending you crashing into the couch. He catches you before you can slam face-first into the carpeted floor.
He sets your limp body gently into the couch, shrugging off his white button-up.
“Zayne,” you murmur groggily, savoring the image of his muscles peaking through his open shirt, “Come cuddle.”
The corner of his lip twitches, “I will, sweetheart. Let me clean you up first.”
Using the clean inside of his shirt, he carefully wipes off the slick that collects at your inner thighs, before it can pool onto the couch. Your legs are putty in his hands, Zayne cleaning you with the utmost care and tenderness.
When he’s done, he settles beside you on the couch, shifting you so that your neck rests on his forearm. He holds you close with one arm, the other drawing lazy circles into your stomach.
Zayne turns his head to the side, pressing a kiss into your temple, “Thank you. For taking care of me tonight.”
You can tell by Zayne’s calm and steady tone that he’s sobered up quite a bit from the orgasm, the control returning to his deep timbre.
You giggle, nuzzling deeper into his arm, the hairs of his underarm tickling your shoulder, “I hardly did anything.” In the comfortable silence, your eyes start to flutter closed.
“You did more than you know,” Zayne whispers, the tender smile in his voice unmistakeable. You simply nod, muttering incoherently as you fall into a deep and sated slumber.
“You are everything.”
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.9k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, car sex, publix sex/slight voyeurism, sex while pulled over in da passenger seat, bottom raf, riding, face sitting, rafayel is a MUNCH, oral f!receiving, jealous raf, drunk rafayel, protective rafayel, somewhat mentions of violence, unprotected sex, no pull out ever
The night road ahead of you is peacefully calm, the drive back to Rafayel’s house a peaceful and scenic trip. There's very few cars beside yours, well Rafayel’s, on the main roads back, likely because it was close to 2am.
You were honestly having way too much fun driving Rafayel’s car, thoroughly enjoying the purr of the beautiful Benz. You didn’t have the opportunity to drive many cars, let alone a Gran Turismo.
Your fingers tap gently along the rim of the steering wheel, admiring the elegant LED lights that kept you awake. Rafayel had the car’s interior lights set to a blushed lavender color, ever since you’d said it was your favorite setting. It reminded you of the pink in his cotton candy eyes.
Your eyes flicker to your right, briefly checking on Rafayel as he groans beside you in the passenger seat.
He sat with his arm propped up against the passenger side window, his head resting on his palm. His breathing was still shallow, his eyes closed in a restless and light sleep. The alcohol was no doubt making it difficult for him to rest.
You sigh to yourself, trying to think back to how the night had ended disastrously with him so damn drunk.
Rafayel had invited you as his date to one of his endless art exhibits, a few cities over from your home. Only this one was special.
When they’d unveiled his starring piece, a beautiful oil painting on a massive canvas that nearly reached the ceiling, you nearly fell to your knees.
Because Rafayel had painted the most exquisite portrait of you.
You, surrounded in ribbons of coral and seaweed, the most colorful globs of intricate paint surrounding you, a mosaic of sea glass. You, dancing in the endless sea of pastel turquoise. You, in Lemuria. His home.
Rafayel had painted you countless times before, you were his muse after all. Even if he never admitted that openly to you. But this was different, he’d never so openly shared you with this world before. Never wanted to open himself up like this, to anyone, to you.
It was beautiful as it was magnificent. It made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world, more gorgeous than you’d ever felt in your entire life. The way he’d put paint to canvas and created literal magic.
It appeared others thought so too. All the patrons attending the gala that night clamored around the oil canvas, press snapping photos, writers grabbing at Rafayel, trying to get anything for their tabloids.
It was nothing out of the norm. You’d become quite used to the glitz, glamor, and madness that came with being his girlfriend.
What was unexpected, was the attention you got, as the subject of the painting.
The people who wanted a piece of you, the stunning woman in Rafyel’s newest piece. Rafayel did his best to keep you comfortable, shooing away the throws of people trying to get even a morsel of anything from you.
“Rafayel. It’s okay. I can handle it,” you give him your best reassuring smile, “Go mingle with your guests, I’ll be fine.”
Rafayel looks reluctant, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, unwilling to let go. Eventually you convince him, with the promise of a reward later if he listened, to go speak to the serious sponsors and buyers that demanded his attention.
“Never should’ve painted that damn thing,” he muttered as he walked off, looking back at you as Thomas dragged him off. He should’ve known sharing you with the world would have driven him insane.
So you spent the rest of the night trying to be as sociable as possible, not wanting to upset any of Rafayel’s guests. After a few hours you finally found a free moment, finding yourself in front of the portrait once again. Most of the people had cleared out, giving you a chance to really admire the masterpiece.
Rafayel was undeniably talented, maybe the most gifted artist in the world, you’d always thought so. But the way he painted you here was more than just art.
It was his heart on a canvas. And his heart, his entire world, was you. Every fiber of his soul, woven together into a tapestry of lustrous colors, each one depicting a different memory.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
You turn your head to the stranger’s voice, coming face to face with a handsome man, clad head to toe in the most luxurious brands. He stands so uncomfortably close to you that you can smell the nauseating cologne wafting off of him. And yet it’s his aura that makes your skin crawl uncomfortably.
He fills in your awkward silence, eyes looking you up and down, “Definitely not as beautiful as the real thing.”
You really don’t know how to respond to the stranger’s boldness, in shock at how forward he’s being. Your relationship with Rafayel was no secret, the paparazzi having photographed the two of you publicly many times. And you’d walked into the gala on Rafayel’s arm.
“Thank you,” you say curtly, offering a small smile, trying to return your attention to the display.
“I’m going to buy it, you know. And then maybe after, I can buy you a drink?” when his hand lands on your bare shoulder you flinch back, ready to resort to your tactical training. The thought of this man buying a portrait of you makes you nauseous.
Before you can give him a piece of your mind, he’s falling backward with a surprised yelp.
“Hands off the art,” an all-too familiar voice snarls, as he stands between you and the man. You’re too shell shocked to realize Rafayel is clearly drunk, his charismatic voice drawling muddily.
“Don’t touch me,” the man snaps, “I bought this piece, I legally own it.” The way he says ‘piece’ makes your blood boil, the misogyny dripping off his words.
Rafayel, drunk as he might be, catches on too. Fire burns in his eyes, matching the heat of his Evol. Thomas isn’t far behind, looking at you with desperation on his face, begging you to help him defuse the situation. Rafayel was spontaneous enough as it was, there was no telling the lengths he’d go to when he was intoxicated, especially when you were involved.
You reach your hand out, grasping Rafayel’s fingers and gently pulling him back towards you.
“He’s not worth it,” you whisper when Rafayel’s head snaps to you, his eyes softening instantly when they land on you. Rafayel spares the man, rubbing his wrist with a grimace, a glance. You wrap your arm around Rafayel’s waist tugging him close to you and trying to lead him out of the nearly empty gala.
Rafayel takes a deep and shaky breath, before nodding slightly. As he turns to leave with you, he glances back to the man and Thomas, his chin raised.
“It’s not for sale.”
“B-But I already wrote the check,” the man blew up, face red with anger and disbelief.
Rafayel smiles, a fake and genuinely terrifying smile, “I don’t care how many checks you write. You’re never looking at her again.”
It’s enough to even send chills down your spine.
With those words, Rafayel exited the gallery with you on his arm, you rubbing soothing circles into his back. It was rare Rafayel got full blown drunk; you’d seen him tipsy numerous times, but he was always careful not to cross the line into completely losing control of his inhibitions.
As he slumped in the passenger seat of his car, he briefly explained just how he found himself so shit-faced.
“Everyone was taking your time,” he slurred, breathing heavily. The alcohol made him bluntly honest, much more so than he’d normally be about something like this.
“Oh, Rafayel…” you giggle, bending over to latch his seatbelt in, “I know, it’s usually you getting the attention, it must have been weird to share it. I’m sorry.”
Rafayel scoffs, his head resting on the window, “S’not why I was upset. I don’t like sharing you.”
You bite your lip to fight the smile that threatens to sneak its way onto your face, “Why didn’t you just come back?”
“Was trying to distract myself. Didn’t want to disappoint you,” he mutters, his eyes closed and his arms folded across his chest as you start the car, “I know you wanted me to talk to the annoying old farts.”
And then he promptly dozed off, like a precious little baby.
You were about 15 minutes from his place when Rafayel stirred awake from the mere feeling of your hand on his thigh. It was far too dark to see the tent growing in his pants, all from your fingers stroking his sensitive thighs, even when he was unconscious.
“Hey,” you murmur softly, giving him a smile when you see the movement in the corner of your eye, “You feeling okay? I have water in my bag.”
“P-Pull over,” Rafayel slurs, still clearly drunk. His eyes are glued to your palm on his leg. Not even he knows why the innocent touch has him so worked up and feral.
“What?!” you exclaim in a mix of disbelief and shock, “We’re so close to home –”
“Pull over,” he urges you again, the strain between his legs growing painful, “Please.”
His urgency makes you nervous, and you quickly find a secluded area you can pull over, turning your hazards on when you do so.
“Do you need to throw up?” you turn to him worriedly, grasping his thigh tighter in your fingers and rubbing soothingly, unsure of what to do.
Rafayel groans at your unknowingly innocent actions, rubbing his hand down his face, which only makes you worry more.
You undo your seatbelt so you can sit on your knees and face him, your hands still rubbing up and down his thighs, hoping to make him feel better.
Rafayel takes that opportunity to undo his own seatbelt, hoisting you out of your seat and onto his lap. You try to muffle your scream as he effortlessly carries you onto his lap, cramped between his body and the front dash. It always surprised you just how powerful Rafayel’s body was despite his toned and slender build.
“Rafayel!” you squeal as he sits you on his lap, “What are you doing?!”
He doesn’t speak, only looking up at you with big wet eyes. He spreads your thighs so that they cage his own legs, his hands resting on your sumptuous hips. Despite his strong and possessive hold, you’re still able to twist around to grab your tote bag, pulling out a plastic water bottle.
“Don’t need to throw up,” he mumbles, looking up at you through his long and dark eyelashes, “Jus’ need you.”
With his hand on your back he pushes you down until your chest is flush with his, capturing your lips in a feverish all-consuming kiss. The bitter and sharp taste of alcohol is still strong on his tongue, his lips impatiently messy and insistent. Rafayel rocks up into you as he loses himself into your embrace, his very clear and prominent erection begging for attention.
“R-Raf!” you pull away, even at his whiny refusal, hands still tugging at the clothing at your hips, “Did you really make me pull over for this?” Your eyes dart around nervously, making sure there’s no cars around you. But it wasn’t necessary, Rafayel’s windows were so tinted that even if you had your nose pressed to the glass you wouldn’t be able to see much.
“Come on, at least drink some water while we’re pulled over,” you untwist the cap of your reusable water bottle.
“No,” Rafayel pouts at you, the rose flecks in his eyes glow as he looks up pleadingly at you, “I don’ want water, wanna kiss you.”
You can’t help but laugh, despite the risky and precarious situation you find yourself in. That situation being Rafayel’s very excited crotch.
“Don’t laugh,” Rafayel broods, his bottom lip jutted out, shiny with a sheen of saliva, “I wanted to be with you all night, ‘specially when everyone was getting your attention.” He presses his chin onto your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your body wash and pressing wet kisses into your neck.
“Wan’ my reward now,” Rafayel slurs, his wandering fingers hooking under the thin strap of your evening dress, slipping it off your shoulders.
“You’re drunk Rafayel,” you reason firmly, even though your body is already betraying you. Your thighs squirm, widening instinctively for him, excitement pooling at the apex of your legs.
“Sooo?” Rafayel’s head fall backs onto the headrest, “Just give me a taste, please?”
You want to keep a level head, deny his insane request, but his hard body against your pliable one makes you desperate for more. Besides…the windows are almost completely blacked out and you were in a very secluded upper-end neighborhood, where all the homes had nearly miles of yard between them.
“Fine…” you concede, “But only if you drink some water.”
Rafayel’s eyes practically radiate, nodding eagerly and raising his lips to the cool bottle. His sudden willingness is comical, and you smile fondly at him as you help him to drink. Rafayel’s fingers squeeze against your waist, your soft skin making him grow thicker and hotter by the second.
His body unconsciously grinds against you as he drinks the water, eyes open wide with a faux innocence, staring right at your heated and flushed cheeks. He’s so focussed on admiring the irresistible look of desire on your face as he relentlessly rocks into you, that he doesn’t even feel the cold streams of water trickling down his shaky chin.
His fingers trace delicate and intricate shapes into your waist, eyes hooded at the feeling of your heat against his throbbing member. His eyes never leave yours as he finishes the last of the water, looking up at you through his thick purple eyelashes. His eyes shine brightly, the pinks in them accentuated by the LEDs of the car, watching you with a vast sea of desire.
Just as you remove the bottle from his lips, Rafayel lowers the angle of the passenger seat, as far down as it can possibly go.
You shriek in panic, clutching onto Rafayel as the chair dips suddenly, limbs flailing wildly. Rafayel takes that opportunity to lift your thighs, hoisting you nearly to the top of the passenger seat until you’re kneeling with his face in between your thighs.
“R-Rafayel!” you yelp, gripping onto the leather backseat for balance, thighs squirming at the feeling of his warm breath fanning against your exposed lips. The slick that had pooled in your panties makes you much more sensitive to his heated pants. Practically dripping onto his face.
“You promised a taste,” he mumbles, all consumed by the way you glisten against the dim indoor lights of his car. He doesn’t let you get another word in before he’s pulling your panties to the side and licking a fat strip up your slit, all the way to your clit.
“Ngh – Raf!” If it weren’t for his strong hands on your thighs you would’ve crushed him with the way your knees buckled and you nearly fell on top of him.
Rafayel doesn’t speak, only a filthy string of wet slurps and strung out moans audible, this tongue writhing against you, positively starved. The way he makes out with your cunt makes your muscles melt, your body nearly melding into the seats.
Rafayel can feel your shaky legs struggling to keep you up and he pulls your hips down, guiding you to sit on his face. In your surprise, you fall completely, a choked sob of bliss ripping from your mouth when Rafayel completely engulfs your weeping cunt into his mouth.
You're a babbling mess of the most lewd cries, your thighs clenching unbearably at the pleasure Rafayel’s tongue forces into you. You try not to put too much weight on Rafayel, but he only pushes you down, wanting you to crush his skull.
“Tastes so sweet,” Rafayel moans into you, the vibrations of his praises reverberating through every single one of your nerve endings. As he eats you with a relentless excitement, his eager nose strokes along your folds, gathering your arousal with every stroke.
“And it’s all for me,” he whines in the most pussy drunken voice you’ve ever heard from him, likely from the heavy intoxication, “No one else's, just mine.”
You can tell he’s still reeling from the encounter at the gala, with the man who’d wanted to buy the piece he’d painted for you. Just reassuring himself of things he already knew to be fact.
“And you’re mine,” you gasp through the sparks in your vision, wrought with pleasure. You do your best to keep your nails out of the expensive leather upholstery, tearing at Rafayel’s skin instead.
He grunts with the sting of your scratches, the pain fueling his excitement, which he funnels into the way he devours you, slurping up every single drop that pools down your lips.
With one hand on your thigh, he palms himself through his dress pants, jerking furiously.
It isn’t long before he yanks you away with a desperate gasp, carrying you back down onto his lap, “Need to be inside you now, ‘kay?”
The ears ring with the whiplash, the pleasure being yanked away suddenly, staring at Rafayel with dumbfounded wide eyes. You barely register when he takes his bare cock out, rubbing it up and down your absolutely drenched folds, your dress bunched to your waist.
He holds himself firm in his fingers by the base, squeezing down as he rubs up and down your glistening slit, peering up at your rosy cheeks.
“Baby?” he huffs, sounding faraway, “Can I?”
You barely even register your nod, your body moving on its own volition. Rafayel grins, lining himself up and not wasting another second before sinking himself into you, his favorite place in the entire world.
Your face is stuck in a perpetual oh as Rafayel sinks all the way into you, his veins especially prominent in his intoxication. You can almost feel them throbbing as they squeeze against your tight walls, his hips flattering when he feels himself hit the soft walls of your g-spot.
“Ngh – I love you, Y/N,” Rafayel moans, his arms coming up to wrap around your back, pulling you tightly against his torso.
You nuzzle your head into Rafayel’s chest, needing the support as he starts to rock into you, bouncing your body off his lap with the strength of his thighs.
“O-Oh God,” you whimper into his chest, letting him man handle you against himself, too overwhelmed by the way he’d made you feel with his tongue, and now his cock.
‘J-Jus’ like that, baby,” Rafayel mewls into the crown of your head, taking in deep lungfuls of your scent. His arms are wrapped so tightly around you that you almost can’t breathe, but you only want him to hold you harder, tighter.
You can’t even be bothered to care that you’re fucking in such a public area, the risk of getting caught just a faraway thought. The only thing you can find yourself caring about is the way Rafayel drives deeper into your guts, forcing you to look at him as he buries himself into you.
“Hah – pretty girl,” he breathes out, his body slowing. You realize the alcohol must be making him tired, and you force your weight onto your knees.
“L-Let me, Raf,” you whisper, sitting up as much as you can until your head brushes against the car roof. Rafayel watches you with wondrous eyes as you begin to ride him.
“Oo-oh shiit,” he groans, mesmerized by the way you roll your body into him, “You're so perfect, Y/N. Just like that, please don’t s-stop.”
You whimper, biting your lip and trying to control the way his cock has your body screaming for release. You lean back onto his knees, one hand grappling at the window for leverage, the other cupping his balls.
Your hand is met with the wet condensation of the frosted window, the mixture of yours and Rafayel’s torrid breaths fogging up the interior completely. It’s such a sensual sight that you clench down on Rafayel, thinking about the passion of this moment, in the confined space of his favorite car.
Rafayel lets out the most delicious string of moans and expletives as you gently massage his balls in your fingers, fondling them delicately, “Oh God, that feels so good, you feel – angh – amazing.”
You throw all your energy into rolling your hips against Rafayel’s pelvis, wanting to use him until you were utterly spent.
“So big Raf,” you wail, struggling to keep up a rhythm as his size splits you in half, “I-I’m soo clo-ose.”
“Fuuck, me too,” Rafayel grunts, his neck craning back, back arching slightly at the way you ride him so filthily, “Don’t stop, I’m almost – ngh – there.”
His lewd words are your last straw, your hips stuttering as your cunt coils tightly around his length, your body orgasming so intensely through your tightly shut eyes. You desperately hope no one is nearby, because the muffled screams coming from the inside of the car were sure to be audible.
“You love me, right?” Rafayel slurs, his eyes wet and on the verge of coming undone, needing your words to be the final push.
“I love you Raf,” you gasp brokenly, still bouncing on his lap, “Soo-oo much!”
Your vice grip on him has Rafayel seeing stars of his own, the blinding pleasure signaling his own release. As he cums, he brings you back to his chest in a heated embrace, babbling into your mussed hair.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” comes his strangled mantra, the words overflowing from his wet puffy lips, “My Queen.”
You whimper as Rafayel fills you with rope after rope of his hot seed, it already beginning to seep out of your hole and down his still hard length. He gives you everything he has, the soul nearly being sucked out his body through his cockhead.
Rafayel digs his nails into your back as you overstimulate him with your languid thrusts, urging you to stop.
“N-No more,” he whines, holding you in place, “You’re trying to kill me.”
You still your hips with a chuckle, listening to his rapidly pounding heart, “I would never.”
Rafayel strokes your hair, holding you against his body, his cock softening and slipping out of you. You wince at the feeling of how much dampness leaks out of you, sitting up and trying to cup yourself so it doesn’t leak all over Rafayel’s seats.
But Rafayel holds you back down, “No. Stay.”
“Rafayel, it's going to ruin the seats!”
“I don’t care,” he mumbles, his voice still sluggish from the alcohol, nuzzling his face into your chest as he hugs you to keep you from moving.
“You care, you love this car. I love this car,” you whine, trying to pull away and keep the slick from spilling everywhere, but he doesn’t relent.
“Just say you love the car more than me,” he sulks, his bottom lip protruding.
You glare at him, before deciding to tease him and play along, “I love the car more than y–”
Rafayel covers your mouth with his hand, squinting at you, “If you finish that sentence I’ll scream.”
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
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